#steal these design and i’ll skin you

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 2

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not. Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Part 3

Chapter Summary: You're anxious before your date.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.1k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You loved working at the flower shop. Putting together beautiful arrangements and bringing joy to others made you happy. But today, the morning after that stranger showed up in your home, you weren’t fully alert as you went about your tasks. The air around you felt different, thicker. Flipping through the order book, you attempted to look busy instead of walking around in a haze.

Whenever you began to focus, your mind would drift back to Bucky Barnes and your upcoming date. You hadn’t told Addison or anyone else about it because what could you tell them? How could you explain your situation?

You hadn’t even slept in your own bed thanks to that man.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed seated on the couch once Bucky left your place. You’d have to move eventually, but you were replaying what happened in your head like a song on repeat and tried to make sense of it. A man broke into your home, but didn’t steal anything. Held you in his lap, but didn’t violate you.

No, that last part wasn’t true. That was exactly what he did. He violated your safety. And demanded a date with you.

You jerked when your phone dinged, but your heart only pounded faster when you saw a message from a new contact.

Bucky.

“I wish I could’ve stayed the night, but I’ll dream about you and count down the minutes until our date. Don’t forget about your gifts.”

He knew the date was on because how could you say no?

Your stomach dropped as you glanced down the hall. Wiping the remaining tears away, you got to your feet and cautiously made your way toward your bedroom. You weren’t expecting anyone to be there, but who knew what he did while you were at work? And what if he came back?

Would you scream for help or call the police?

“Just go in,” you whispered.

Pushing the door open with a shaky hand and flipping on the light, everything looked normal as you looked around and approached the bed. Everything except the garment and gift bag in the middle of it. They taunted you, daring you to look inside. At the very least, to read the small card on top of the bag.

You caught a small whiff of the cologne he wore as you picked it up and read the single statement.

“This is just the beginning, doll.”

The card slipped from your shaky hand. It would’ve been romantic under normal circumstances. You looked inside the gift bag next, but it did nothing to calm your nerves. Not only was it your favorite perfume as he stated, but it was the largest size available.

You unzipped the garment bag after and gasped at the sight of the dress. It was from a designer you admired, but could never afford. Simple yet beautiful in design, you had to stop yourself from running your hand over the fabric. Yes, it was a beautiful dress and it was just the right size.

But it came with strings attached.

“How?”

You half expected to see a blinking light when your eyes darted to the corners of your bedroom, but everything still looked ordinary. Nothing looked out of place. It didn’t stop your skin from crawling at the thought of him watching you. Because how did he know your size and the kind of perfume you liked? That you liked having a glass of wine when you took a bath? The password to your phone?

How did he know anything about you?

That was perhaps one of the most terrifying aspects about your ordeal: He was clearly powerful and connected, yet you didn’t know exactly what he was capable of or how far he’d go.

It took you a minute to type back a message to him. “Thank you for the gifts.”

A response came back almost immediately. Was he waiting by his phone for you? “Like I said, it’s just the beginning. I have another gift waiting for you, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for that one. It’s a surprise.”

You suddenly didn’t like surprises.

Could you accept gifts wrapped in pretty bows if it meant keeping those you cared about safe? Would you be a living doll to satisfy whatever craving he had that led him to you? At the very least, you’d have to play along for one night to try and get some answers.

“I’m sure it’ll be a nice surprise. Good night.” You sent, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you be.

“Sweet dreams.”

Grabbing a blanket, you made your way back to the living room and curled up in your oversized chair. There wouldn’t be any sweet dreams. Not tonight. Not with the way your mind raced.

Because who the hell was Bucky Barnes and why did he want you?

The bell over the door rang, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that you had a job to do. You blinked as a tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes walked in. A new customer from what you gathered, and an intimidating one at that. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled once he smiled in your direction.

“Hi,” you said, closing your book. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to get some flowers for my girl,” he replied, the deep timbre gentle yet commanding. “No special occasion or anything. I just want to surprise her.”

A smile touched your lips. “That’s one of the best reasons to get someone flowers,” you said. You liked to imagine your future husband would get you flowers just because he felt like it. “Does she have a favorite?”

“Tulips,” he answered without hesitation. “Any color as long as they’re tulips.”

You stepped around the corner and led him to the premade arrangements. “We have this multicolored bouquet that she may like. Brightens the room and has an uplifting aroma.”

The gentleman reached out to touch one of the petals before he nodded. “She’ll love them,” he said more to himself than to you.

He sounded like a man in love.

“I’m sure she will,” you agreed, carefully carrying it to the counter so you could ring it up. Your skin prickled when you felt his eyes on you, but you told yourself to relax. This guy wasn’t like Bucky. You were paranoid after last night and he was likely watching just to make sure you didn’t drop the bouquet. “Will this be all for you?”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You repeated as he waited for your response. The question surprised you, but you nodded to one of the recent arrangements you made. “It’s hard to choose a favorite, but I like stargazer lilies.”

You sometimes brought arrangements home for yourself since you couldn’t remember the last time anyone got you flowers.

“I’ll take those, too,” he said, going to get the vase himself. “I really appreciate your help.”

“It was nothing,” you smiled, ringing up the order. “And you made my job very easy, so thank you.”

“Your partner must feel very lucky to have you,” he said before you paused.

Biting your tongue, you stopped yourself from correcting him. You didn’t have a partner. A possible stalker? Yes.

His brows furrowed as he quietly paid. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

You shook your head and put your best customer service smile back on your face. “No apologies. I actually have a first date tonight. Maybe he’s the one,” you told him, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. “I hope your girl enjoys her flowers.”

He smiled back as he took the bouquets and receipt. “Me, too,” he said, something sparkling in his eye when he added, “Good luck on your date.”

The blonde left without another word, leaving you to grip the counter and wonder how the hell you were going to get through your evening.

You stood in front of your bedroom mirror hours later, admiring yourself in the dress. It fit you well. Beautifully, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You spritzed yourself with the perfume too. Might as well use it since Bucky was likely expecting it.

The scent should’ve brought a smile to your face instead of tears to your eyes.

“Hey! Still on for hanging out tomorrow?” Addison messaged you as you checked the time on your phone.

You blinked the tears away and realized you hadn’t messaged her once today. You were afraid to. If you mentioned Bucky, it would tempt you to spill what happened since you hardly kept anything from your best friend. And if you told her what happened…

Bucky would know.

With a shudder, you messaged her back. “Yep! See you then.”

The tension in your body skyrocketed when your doorbell rang at 7pm, right down to the second. “Be right there!” You called, shoving your phone in your clutch before you took one last look in the mirror. What did it matter if you looked good or not? It was a forced date.

You exhaled as you opened the door and froze when you saw Bucky standing on the other side. You foolishly thought he wouldn’t show, but luck wasn’t on your side. The sharp, dark suit he wore and air of confidence he carried had your heart pounding in your chest. The glove covering his left hand somehow worked with the suit.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze sweeping over you. Why did he look at you like you were something to be desired? “You are so beautiful.”

Butterflies filled your stomach despite your fear. If only he had approached you and asked you out like a normal guy. “Thanks,” you whispered, locking the door once you were in the hall.

Did he have your spare key or did he find a way to get a copy?

“I wore this suit to match your dress,” he said, giving you an expectant look.

The guy was actually fishing for a compliment. “And you look very handsome,” you said, a smile lighting up his face.

“Thanks.” He held his arm out, satisfaction filling his eyes when you took it. “I’m glad you said ’yes’ to this date.”

“I’m sure you would’ve found a way to convince me if I didn’t,” you told him, reminding yourself that accepting this kept your loved ones safe and sound.

“I would have,” he agreed, keeping you close as he led you outside to where a luxury car was waiting. The car likely cost more than what you made in a year. “But you saved me the trouble by agreeing like the good, smart girl I know you are.”

You didn’t thank him for the “compliment”.

Bucky didn’t wait for the driver to open the door, grabbing the handle and helping you inside himself. You slid across the seat and tried to keep your dress from riding up as he got in beside you. He didn’t allow you any breathing room as the glass partition went up and the car took off. You were alone with him.

He could do whatever he wanted.

“You can sit in my lap if you’d like,” he said to break the silence. “It’s nice and comfortable.”

“No thanks,” you said, glancing ahead at the glass when he took your hand. You’d been in his lap the night before and that was more than enough. “Doesn’t seem safe.”

“You can sit here after dinner then,” he suggested, smirking when you glanced out of the corner of your eye.

Your stomach turned at that. He mentioned it took everything in him not to drag you to bed. You believed him. How long would he hold out before he tried to make a move?

“Sorry I didn’t text you today. I didn’t want to bother or overwhelm you while you were working,” he continued, kissing each of your knuckles as you stared straight ahead again. “At least not right away.”

“How considerate of you,” you muttered.

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your hand before he held it in his lap. You stiffened and for a moment you thought he’d put your palm to his crotch. You weren’t sure what to expect from him.

“Look. I want tonight to be good for both of us. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’ll do my best to give you answers,” he said, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear as he addressed the elephant in the room. “I know a lot about you, but I imagine you don’t know much about me.”

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. As tempted as you were to look up his name, you refrained and couldn’t put your finger on why. “If I ask you questions, will you lie to me?”

“I have no reason to lie.” He brought a gloved hand to your cheek and forced you to meet his gaze. Even in the dark of the car, you could see the want in his eyes. “I want you to trust me.”

Trust the man with zero respect for boundaries? Could you do that? “Addison’s bachelorette party was a month ago. Was that really the first time you saw me?”

“It was. Everything changed when I saw you,” he replied, moving his hand from your face down to your neck. Like he just had to touch you. “Though it didn’t take a month to track you down, it did give me time to do my research and find out everything I could about you. Where you live, where you work, your interests, your routine. I like to be thorough.”

You turned your head away when it began to spin, trying to understand how he sounded so casual in his admittance to stalking you. You also couldn’t keep looking into those blue eyes. They would drown you.

What you wanted to ask was if he was watching you in your home. But trapped in that small space with him, what if his answer freaked you out more? He said he wouldn’t hurt you, but would he keep that promise?

The question that came out instead was, “And you just decided during that time that you wanted me?”

Your eyes shut as his lips touched your ear. “I wanted you the moment I saw you,” he whispered, making you shiver at the feel of his breath. “And the more I learned about you, the more you pulled me in. I’m just a moth drawn to your flame. And you’re exactly who I want by my side.”

His words washed over you, wearing you down like a stone sinking in the water. It was too much. Too intense. “Where are we going?”

“Mmm. Our date.” You exhaled when his fingers brushed along your arm. “I thought about renting out a restaurant or taking you away to an island for our first date. Something intimate and private. Then I thought, what’s more intimate and private than my penthouse?”

“Your penthouse?” You asked, opening your eyes.

“Yeah, my home,” he smiled, either not noticing or caring when your eyes rounded. “It’s the best spot in town, of course. Can’t beat the view. And we don’t need any eavesdroppers now, do we?”

Your heart sank as you reached for your phone. People would at least be able to see you in a public place, but his home? That was like going into the heart of a lion’s den. It would be so easy to message Addison or Dana and ask for some sort of help without giving too many details. You could-

Bucky took the phone from your hand and tucked it in his jacket pocket. “You won’t need that tonight,” he stated, something in his calm tone telling you not to argue. “I have a chef preparing dinner and a dessert and I selected a nice bottle of wine for us to share. I also want to give you a tour after the meal since it’s going to be your home sooner or later.”

You choked on your next breath. “It’s what?”

“We’re here,” he smiled, terror gripping you when the car stopped in an underground parking garage. “You can ask me more questions inside.”

“Bucky, did you say this is going to be my home?” You pressed as he helped you out, having to rush to keep up with him as he pulled you to an elevator.

You hoped that wasn’t the gift he wanted to surprise you with tonight.

“Not right away, but yes. My place is a bit safer than yours and it’s close to my club and your shop. A win-win,” he said, scanning a key card before the doors opened. “Don’t look so surprised. Most couples live together.”

You refrained from telling him that you weren’t a couple. “I think that’s moving a bit too fast,” you said, your voice cracking as he pulled you inside, keeping you right beside him even though there was plenty of space to be apart. “This is only our first date,” you added, not wanting to upset him.

“That’s why I said it wouldn’t be right away,” he teased, pressing the button for the top floor as his other hand rubbed your hip. “But soon.”

You kept your breathing under control as the elevator climbed higher. The man had your future mapped out and you had only known him for a day. Was this some sick, elaborate game that he was playing to scare the hell out of you? Or had he convinced himself that this was romantic?

“I hope you like it,” he said softly as you stepped out together and walked toward a man who stood by the door. He was just as large as Bucky, but didn’t dare make eye contact with you as he opened the door and let you in.

The spacious entrance opened up to a large living space with high ceilings and marble floors. It was admittedly gorgeous and you hadn’t seen the rest of the place yet. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the flowers in the middle of the table a few feet in front of you.

The coy smile on Bucky’s face made your blood freeze when you faced him. “Those are your favorite, aren’t they?” He asked.

They weren’t just your favorite flowers.

It was the same arrangement of stargazer lilies you sold to the blonde gentleman earlier today.

“I told you, doll. I know everything about you,” he began as the clutch fell from your hand and the door shut with a heavy thud. “And I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Zero chill, lovelies. What's the surprise he has for you? How will this date go? And did you like the appearance from the man in the shop? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Bruises/Hickies, Church

AN: Surprise shawtyyy! I was fighting demons to keep a poker face up until this point lolol also normally, I'd have a follow up post for Tuesday if I post on a Monday - but next update will be later this week, as I'm at the point where I'm just straight up making poses for the whole thing lol. (trying not to, because it's time consuming).

Transcript under the cut

Malcolm: Are they done yet? This is boring!

Jonathan: You don’t get it.

Malcolm: Get what!

Jonathan: Mom and Dad. They’re in love and stuff.

Malcolm: Bleh!

Nancy: [whispers] I’m sorry.

Geoffrey: Hm? What for?

Nancy Narrates: [For betraying you]

Nancy Narrates: [For always wanting more when this should be enough]

Nancy Narrates: [You don’t deserve this..]

Nancy: [whispers] Nothing. Nevermind.

-

Jonathan: What happened? What’s wrong with Mom?

Geoffrey: She’s ok, she just needs to rest-

Malcolm: Is it cause she’s drunk?

Geoffrey: Malcolm- Ok, how about you two find a movie for us to watch for boy’s night and I’ll get Mommy ready for bed.

Geoffrey: Nance. I need you to sit up so I can get your night gown on.

Nancy: Mhm.. s’fine.

Geoffrey: [snorts] Alright, suit yourself. Don’t try and steal all the blankets when you get cold tonight.

Nancy: [whimpers] M’ gonna be better, Geoffrey. M’so sorry..

Geoffrey: There you go, apologizing again. You know it’s ok if you do steal them, right, silly? I run hot at night any...anyway-

-

Nancy Narrates: [I made a silent promise to my family that I’ll never stray away from them again. I would make it right, somehow]

Deacon: Today we gather to reflect on the sacred gift of family. God created humanity in His image. From the beginning, we see family is part of His design.

Deacon: It is within our families that we first encounter unconditional love that mirrors God’s own love for us all.

Priest: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Nancy: Amen. [softly] Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been- [exhales] a while since my last confession.

Priest: What is troubling you, my child?

Nancy: I’ve- fallen prey to my weakness for the same sex. I fear what I’ve done will ruin my family.

Priest: Have you struggled with this before?

Nancy: I’ve never really acted on it, until now.

Priest: How do you feel about what you’ve done?

Nancy: Guilt. Shame. Disgust.

Priest: My daughter, these emotions are a sign of your conscience at work. You have acted against your own values. You know these unnatural ways is not in accordance to God’s design. For your penance, I want you to spend time in prayer and consider the harm you’ve caused for yourself and for your soul.

-

Judith: Oh, brother. He said that?

Nancy: It’s nothing I’ve never heard before, growing up in the church and all.

Judith: You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?

Nancy: [scoffs] I cheated on my husband! That’s unforgivable, in any situation. If Geoffrey ever found out, he’d leave me. The boys would have to suffer through a divorce- a broken family. The media would eat us alive. And my mother, God, if she knew-

Judith: Oh, I am so sick of hearing about that old broad!

Nancy: I just need to put it behind me. Move on. I got it out of my system, so I have no reason to speak to Lily ever again. I’ll never think about another woman. I’ll be good. Normal.

Judith: What the hell is normal, anyway? If you’re abnormal, than so am I.

Nancy: [sighs] You’re not married or a mother.

Judith: Have you even allowed yourself a moment to revel in this?

Nancy: Why would I?

Judith: Because you finally gave yourself something you wanted. Put the shame and all those nasty feelings aside for a second and tell me about it.

Nancy: [groans] God, it felt so good. The sex yes, but there was something about her obeying everything I said that thrilled me. If I close my eyes now, I can still feel her teeth in my skin, her gasps when I squeezed her throat.

Judith: There.

Nancy: What? There what?

Judith: The real you. You pack her away so much that when you finally allow her to show, she shines.

Nancy: She frightens me..

Judith: Good! She’s a real bitch, and she’s ready for her debut! I want to see you at your brightest, darling. It’s when you’re the happiest.

Nancy: I don’t know if happiness was in the cards I was dealt.

Judith: I believe it is. And when it comes, bask in it, darling.

-

Jonathan: Move, Malcolm! I have the phone!

Malcolm: NO! Let me talk to mommy!

Nancy: Quit bickering, you two. Jonathan, let your brother speak too, please.

Malcolm: YEAH!

Jonathan: [groans] Fine! Mom, are you almost home? Will you be late again?

Nancy: I’ve just wrapped up my last client and I’ll be on my way.

Malcolm: Then we can look for a Christmas tree?!

Nancy: We sure can, my love. I’ll see you both very, very soon.

Jonathan: Promise?

Nancy: I promise. I love you both so much.

Assistant: Mrs. Landgraab, you have a guest asking for you in the lobby.

Nancy: [scoffs] You’re joking? No, no I can’t. Have them book an appointment. I’m leaving for the evening.

Assistant: I suggested that, but they refused to leave and insisted on seeing you.

Nancy: Oh, fucking hell.. fine. Page my driver to wait for me out front anyway. I’ll make this quick.

Nancy: [breathlessly] Vanessa.

Vanessa: Hello Nancy.

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Sandwiches And Sticky Fingers

Pairing -> Husband! Dad! Bucky Barnes x Wife! Mom! Fem! Reader

Total Wordcount -> 1.8K

Summary -> As your daughters are growing up, Bucky enjoys spending as much time as possible with his little family. Today, as the weather is lovely, he offers to have a picnic in your backyard, which is an offer you simply can’t refuse as it’ll be some welcome family time after a long week.

Tags & Warnings -> Canon compliant, stay-at-home dad! Bucky Barnes, established relationship (marriage), domestic fluff, a tiny bit of angst, references to Bucky's past (nondescriptive), mention/reference of a bad past relationship (nondescriptive), reader is nicknamed ‘Sunshine,’ no use of y/n.

Story rating -> Teen

Author’s Note -> As of right now, I officially have a tag list where you can add yourself! I will also add to the list as I write for different characters and participate in writing challenges. If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

Writing Prompts @fandombingo -> “There was never anyone else for me.” | Bucky Barnes @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition -> “You’re so red.”

The sun outside shines brightly, covering the entire garden and your house in a beautiful golden hue. Your husband, Bucky, is enjoying some alone time as he makes breakfast for you and himself, and two pink bottles of milk are slowly warming up in the designated machine. He’s usually up an hour or two before you, and your twin daughters, and he likes to use that time to go on a long morning run with his best friend, Steve, to burn off some extra energy that is a result of the super soldier serum pumps through his veins.

As the sunlight enters your bedroom, showering everything in a warmth that always makes you happy, you wake up before stretching out, ready to start the day. After a quick look on the baby monitor—where you see both girls still sound asleep—you grab one of Bucky’s well-worn henleys, slip it on, and bring the fabric to your nose to inhale his masculine, comforting scent. A hum falls off your lips as a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth.

Finally, you make your way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Bucky is humming along to some music from the 40’s, his entire body moving to the beat as he effortlessly flips the next chocolate chip pancake - your favorite.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says as he looks over his shoulder, meeting your gaze as he does. A flurry of butterflies is going wild in your stomach, heat surging through your veins as Bucky’s eyes darken from their usual bright blue to a darker blue while the pure need for you surges through his body. Within less than five steps, he’s standing in front of you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he takes a moment to admire your features.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs before leaning in, his lips on yours in a captivating kiss that has you gripping his shirt tightly. Even after a few years of marriage, he still takes your breath away every single day. Bucky’s hands wander from your cheeks down to your neck, his thumbs tilting your head slightly to get even better access to your soft, pink lips, and goosebumps arise on the skin he’s touching.

“Bucky-” is all you can say, but you don’t finish your sentence as the machine warming your girls’ bottles is beeping, letting you know they’re ready to go. A wide smile spreads as you push your forehead against your husband’s, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“I love you, Sunshine, so much. Now, if you go get the girls, I’ll finish breakfast, okay?” he asks softly, and you nod before stealing a few more pecks and turning around, your hips swaying a little extra with every step. As soon as you open the door to the room your twins share, you can hear them babbling away at one another, and your heart swells with love.

“Good morning, girls! Are you two ready to get some breakfast with Mommy and Daddy this morning?” you ask as you lower the side of the crib that houses your first daughter - Isabelle - ready to scoop into your arms. She coos happily at you, and you kiss her chubby cheek as you walk over to her sister - Rebecca - scooping her up with your free arm. Thankfully, Bucky had already changed their diapers before going on his run earlier this morning, meaning you don’t have to worry about them until after breakfast. You can go straight to the kitchen as your stomach is rumbling with hunger.

“Who’s ready to go and see Daddy?!” you ask them excitedly, making Bucky smile as he hears you over the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. He lets out a content sigh as he finishes setting the table, just in time for you to walk in with your daughters. Rebecca immediately stretches her arms out to be held by Bucky, which has become their morning routine whenever you’re home.

With you being gone for work early in the morning and Bucky taking on the role of a stay-at-home dad at his request, he has been bonding with them in a way he never would have considered before meeting you. Ever since he got the chance to meet you, you have shown him what he deserves by giving it to him and more, and even though it is still a struggle some days, he now embraces his life with open arms, which is a massive help with his recovery, too.

“I’ve been thinking, what do you think of having a picnic in the backyard this afternoon? After they’ve gone down for their nap, we can spread out a blanket on the grass as we have some snacks for us, and they’ll get their bottles outside, as well,” he offers; you don’t have to think about it for even a second before you let him know you agree, and Bucky feels like he’s on cloud nine at the thought of spending the afternoon all together.

Bucky spreads a large picnic blanket in your backyard underneath a large beach umbrella to allow for shade. While you’re busy cutting up fruit in the kitchen, you suddenly get very distracted by the sight of your husband bending over in a pair of tight, black jeans that show off his backside beautifully as you start to salivate a bit at the thought of giving it a spanking or two. Then, as if he senses your eyes on him, he turns around with a quirked brow, letting you know you got caught.

In an effort to play it off like nothing happened, you go back to cutting the large, juicy watermelon you bought at a farmers market you and your twins attended after breakfast, but it’s all to no avail.

“You can’t help yourself, can you, Sunshine? Ogling innocent men as they’re just spreading out a blanket in their backyard,” Bucky purrs as he gently pushes himself against your back, his firm chest and chiseled abdomen pressed against you as his large hands rub your arms.

Why does he have to look and feel like he’s been cut out of marble? You think as you close your eyes. The way he presses against you has you wanting him more and more every second, and when his lips are leaving a trail of kisses on your neck and bare shoulder, your brain is about to shortcircuit completely. As you drop the knife on the counter, you and Bucky snap back to reality at the loud sound.

“Oh god, I-I’m sorry!” you say as heat surges through your cheeks, embarrassment and bad memories flooding your body and mind as you try to regain yourself.

“Sunshine, can you look at me for a moment?” Bucky gently asks, and you turn around after he steps back to allow you some room to move.

“It’s okay- we’re okay. I know you dropped the knife, but no one got hurt, and everyone is okay. I’m not mad,” he says reassuringly, and you can’t help but tear up a little as he says it. Before meeting Bucky, you’ve come out of a nasty relationship, and as much as you’ve shown him the life he deserves, he’s also shown you the life you deserve to live, even though it hasn’t been easy for either of you.

“Are you sure?” you ask in a small voice, and Bucky nods before extending his hand. He wants to give you the choice of being touched, and you put your hand in his before stepping into his comforting arms. As he whispers sweet words into your hair, your heart rate goes down, and the anxiety you felt earlier also leaves your body as you enjoy the moment.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you say before standing on your tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek, leaving him to blush intensely at your show of affection. A goofy smile splits his face as he feels like a teenager in love who just got kissed on the cheek by their crush, and he can never get enough of feeling this way. After you’ve returned to cutting the red, juicy fruit, Bucky has gone to get the twins, changing their diapers before taking them outside, ready to enjoy the picnic.

“Look who’s there with your bottles! It’s Mommy!” Bucky says enthusiastically as you’re holding the girls’ milk bottles in one hand and a basket with containers of sandwiches and fruit in the other. As you walk over, Bucky admires the way you look like a goddess with the sun shining beautifully on you, smiling as he does. While he always knows he’s lucky to have fallen in love with someone like you, moments like this cement it for him.

“What’ve you been staring at, Handsome? You’re so red, the colors of your cheeks are rivaling the strawberries I cut up earlier,” you say teasingly as you sit down on one of the pillows Bucky brought outside, and he turns his head to Isabelle, who’s looking up at him with big, curious eyes.

“Do you hear that, Izzy? Your Mommy is teasing me and telling me I look like a strawberry! Can you believe it?!” he says with faux-offense, immediately making you chuckle as he does. In moments like this, you’re falling in love with him all over again. He’s a natural dad, and it always felt right when you talked about him becoming a stay-at-home dad. He’s doing a fantastic job raising your daughters; you can’t help but tell him exactly that.

“Bucky?” you say, grabbing his attention for a moment.

“I love you and am so happy to have married you. Before meeting you, I only thought I had met the love of my life, but nothing was further from the truth - it was only when I got to know you that I realized there was never anyone else for me. You’re my soulmate, true love, and happily ever after.”

For a moment, Bucky stays silent as he lets your words sink in; the amount of love makes his heart overflow. His mouth opens and shuts a few times as his brain desperately tries to grasp words, but he’s unable to. Instead, he leans forward to kiss you, a soft moan slipping from your lips as he does. The kiss is unhurried, soft, and perfect, but you’re pulled out of the kiss when you feel something sticky and wet smeared on your arm.

“Oh, what’s that?! Did you get ahold of one of the strawberries?” you ask as you look down at Rebecca, who’s squeezed one of the juicy fruits before smearing it onto your arm. A deep laugh emerges from your husband’s chest, and you can’t help but laugh with him. What started as a sweet moment has become a core memory for you and your husband, genuinely making it a day never to forget.

Masterlist -> Bucky Barnes Masterlist

GIF: Source -> All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[ink-n-shadow]

dollification w/ sugardaddy!price where he thinks for you and dresses you up in all the clothing he spoils you in (in more ways than one ;) ) and whenever you snap out of that fuzzy mindset he's all there to hold you and anchor you back into reality i mean what

no because sugardaddy!price makes me SICKKKK😩

PRETTY DOLL

𝜗𝜚 the one where sugar daddy!price gets his doll ready for a fancy dinner

𝜗𝜚 pairing: sugar daddy!price x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: no smut but adult themes (minors—DNI), dollification, slight dumbification?, soft dom!price, price just being in complete control, so unedited

sugar daddy!price loves nothing more than dressing his little doll, fingers ghosting up your spine as he zips up dress and sponges gentle kisses up your throat. it’s one of the new ones he had just bought you, expensive price tag laying crumpled on the floor at your feet as he spins you around to face him.

“y’look good, doll,” price murmurs softly and reaches behind him to pick up is still lit cigar the its porcelain ashtray, taking a mouthful of vanilla-tinged smoke and breathing it out across your exposed skin as his hand caresses your hip gently. “think y’should wear the louboutins tonight.”

you don’t even argue, simply dipping your chin down in a demure nod as you lean forward to bury your face into price’s hairy chest. the gesture makes a lithe chuckle leave his lips, his free hand skirting up your body to card through your hair gently. “sit on the bed f’me, doll. i’ll get ‘em for you.”

you let price push you back onto the foot of his expansive king-sized bed, leaning back on the palms of your hands and blinking dumbly as you wait for price to return. when he appears from the walk-in closet, designer heels in hand, you sit up eagerly with a lovesick smile stretched across your lips.

as always, price places his cigar between his teeth as he (rather slowly) falls to his knees between yours, calloused palm dragging up your calf to remind you to put your leg up for him. with practiced ease, price slips the heel onto your foot, adjusting the straps as necessary and sponging more prickly kisses up your leg with a soft hum.

“whatcha think of ‘em, doll? they pretty enough?” price murmurs into the lotioned skin of your other calf as he slips the other shoe onto your other foot, eyes fluttering up to meet your glazed ones. when you simply answer with a dazed nod, he’s clicking his tongue and pushing up onto his knees, one hand continuing to adjust the straps of your heels and the other pushing your cheeks into a soft pout. “c’mon…use y’words, sweetheart.”

john’s words make a soft whine leave your lips, trying halfheartedly to pull away from the grip he has on your cheeks as your glossy eyes flutter down to meet his.

“mhm. really pretty, daddy,” you breathe shyly as you glance down at your feet, admiring the nearly thousand dollar heels now adoring your body. "do you think m'pretty?"

they aren’t the most expensive article of clothing on your body (hell, the dress you’re wearing has to be a couple thousand), but they might be the prettiest, a sleek white with swarovski crystals lining the straps and the classic red bottom sole glinting in the light. not to mention the expensive lingerie hidden beneath your dress, or the diamond jewelry littering your skin.

john brings you out of your floaty headspace by tugging you up to your feet, hands finding the slopes of your hips to stand you upright and push down the skirt of your dress that had ridden up. he moves a hand up to push the stray strands of hair that had fallen into your vision, tucking them behind your ear with a gentle sweep of his calloused thumb.

"mhm—always think you're the prettiest doll in the world. now c'mon, we're late for our dinner reservations."

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[leighsartworks216]

Honey, I'm Home

Zayne x gn!Reader

Wrote this literally at 2-3am last night while trying not to fall asleep. And now I'm trying to quickly post it so I can get breakfast before the place I want it from gets too busy lmao

Inspired by this video

Warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, desserts & sweets, sleepiness, kissing, couch cuddles

Word Count: 911 (oh)

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (fill this out to be tagged in future fics)

“I’m home,” Zayne calls into the house as he shuts the door behind him. He shucks off his coat and toes off his shoes, putting them neatly in their places, before following the sound of the TV to the living room. A bag of goodies crinkles in his hand. “I got you the…” His words trail off as he takes in the sight before him.

You lay along the length of the couch, head propped up on some decorative pillows. A soft blanket drowns you, layered and bunched up all around you to compensate for its excessive size, having been initially meant for use on a king-size bed. One of your arms drapes lazily over your eyes to protect them from the lights of the room and the TV. The other rests over your stomach.

Earlier, you’d sweetly asked if he could pick up something from the bakery on his way home. Of course he agreed. He didn’t expect you to already be asleep when he got back, though. He wonders if you had a long day, or if the comfort movie you have playing eased you into sleep on accident.

He creeps closer. Trying to soften his steps and keep the bag from making too much noise. He sets it lightly on the coffee table once he’s close enough. With the push of a button, the TV screen goes dark, and he sets the remote back in its designated spot. The sudden silence is filled with your even breaths.

He moves part of the blanket aside so he can sit on the edge of the couch, his hip against yours. Carefully, he lowers your arm. “Darling?” He holds your hand, absentmindedly rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “I’m home, love.”

You breathe deeply as you stir awake. Eyelids fluttering, you force your tired eyes open enough to see your partner, bathed in the lamplight. His fond smile warms you to your bones. You smile dumbly in return. “Hey…”

He brushes your cheek with his long fingers. They’re soft and warm. You manage to angle your head ever so slightly into his touch. “You’ll hurt your back sleeping out here.”

Your arm feels like lead when you lift it to brush his bangs out of his eyes. That quickly leads to you running your fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Not yet,” you murmur. “Wanna keep lookin’ at you.” You seem to be on a mission to try keeping his bangs from falling into his face. You try tucking them behind his ear, pushing them up over the top of his head, gathering them into a little ponytail. He jostles the last one from your sleepy hold and guides your hand to his cheek instead. “How’s your day?”

He turns to kiss your open palm. His warm breath fans over your skin. “It was busy today. I had a lot of surgeries.”

“Did’ju eat lunch?”

He nods. “Mhm. Thank you for making it. It was delicious.”

You smile brighter, like you just found out his parents are coming to visit. “I’m glad.”

“How was your day?”

“Good,” you hum. “Long.” You yawn. He brushes away the little tears it brings to your eyes. “Really boring. Mnh! Did you go to the bakery?”

“I did.” Your hand slips down to his chest as he turns and draws the bag closer, sliding it across the tabletop. He pulls out a couple of boxes, marked with the logo of the bakery. “I got your favorites. They had a sale on macarons, so I got us a box each.”

You poke his collarbone, drawing his hazel eyes back to you. “And no stealing from my box, Mr. Sweet Tooth.”

He gives you a wry smile. “I’ll exhibit some self-restraint.”

Your fingers trail with intent up his neck, coaxing goosebumps to jump out on his arm, but the execution is messy and lazy otherwise. Once they reach the sharp angle of his jaw, you guide his face down to yours. He kisses you sweetly. It’s chaste, but no less adoring. Every time he pulls away, you pull him back in, over and over, until you let out a satisfied little sigh. His heart runs rampant in his chest.

“We should get you to bed,” he whispers, so close that speaking any louder feels blasphemous. “The sweets can wait until tomorrow.”

You hum, quieter this time, as sleep begins to creep in once more. Your eyes are fighting to stay open. It’s a losing battle. Zayne smiles and stands up. Your arm slips from his jaw to your lap. He releases your hand in favor of releasing you from your blanket prison and scooping you up into his arms.

The trip from the couch to the bed is fuzzy. You remember letting your eyes close, and the way you rocked with each step. His heartbeat resonated through you, until you’re pretty sure your heart adjusted to match his rhythm. You remember the cool caress of your sheets as he laid you down, and the soft press of lips to your forehead.

“I’ll be back soon. Goodnight, my love.”

You mutter something incoherent back, but the message is loud and clear. He kisses your forehead again, covering you in the blankets. By the time he returns, you’re already dreaming of eating sweets with him beside a fire on a cold winter’s day.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 6 | 7 | 8

masterlist

your story

topthornton replied to your story:

did you really get nan to take this?

rafecam replied to your story:

sleeping beauty

sarahcameron replied to your story:

i see you’ve got room for me 😉

your phone

yourusername

liked by rafecam, sarahcameron and 3,098 others

yourusername girls day @ the beach

view comments

sarahcameron my baby

yourusername love u momma 😜

kiaracarrera i love having rich friends

itscleo literally

yourusername thanks for letting us sugar momma you!

jjmaybank did my invite get lost?

user it’s nice to see you in front of the camera!

sarahfan101 literally she’s really pretty

kiaracarrera

liked by heywardpope, yourusername and 72 others

kiaracarrera i got my girls!

view comments

jjmaybank and me, pope and john b

yourusername it’s giving fomo

heywardpope we just wanted an invite!

kiaracarrera worried i’ll steal your gf pope?

johnbr if you look closely you can see me crying

sarahupdates

liked by sarahfan101, user and 51,098 others

sarahupdates photos of sarah and y/n at the beach today, they were joined by cleo and kiara!

view comments

user2 how does it feel to live MY dream

sarahfan101 fr how do i get in on this?

user3 ugh they’re always having a good time

user4 when does sarah go back to la?

your story

rafecam, itscleo, johnbr and 5 others liked your story

a day at the beach, with your girls, was exactly what you needed to distract your mind from the weight of the whole situation with rafe. the combination of sun, laughter and alcohol brought a wash of calmness over you that you hadn’t felt since you’d arrived in outerbanks.

the sun began to set on the island, golden hues reflecting off of the water; a beautiful image of a sunset right before your eyes. that’s when you knew, it was time to go home.

you headed back to the comfort of your grandparents’ cozy home, your bikini still damp and the scent of saltwater lingering on your skin.

before sitting down with your grandparents, you excused yourself to shower — desperately needing one, to wash away the sand and tension of the day. feeling refreshed, you slipped on a pair of flowy, silk pyjamas; they were long, but their design allowed for air, making them perfect for the warm nights in obx.

you nestled yourself into the armchair, joining your grandparents in conversation; only the warm glow of the lamp beside you to light the room.

“good day?” your grandfather asked, as you placed yourself across from him.

“the best, pops.”

“how’s rafe doing?” your grandmother pried, causing your smile to falter, the casualty in her voice only revealed that this was just the beginning of a long and messy situation.

a/n: nan and pops about to be my fav characters.

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe

[mwahbabe]

Tattoo artist chloe! x fem reader

you get a tattoo from an “out of the way” tattoo artist, you end up getting more than just new ink….

Men DNI !!!

tags: v fingering (r! receiving), sesbian lex, cunnilingous (r! receiving), porn w plot, loser chloe + yearning chloe rahhh, stoner chloe, reader smokes some weed, kinda friends with benefits?? or client with benefits idk shut up.

a/n: totally not based of a real event in my life. (i wish it were chloe instead 😔)

‧₊˚. °♱༺ ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

You had been wanting a tramp stamp for the longest time, you found Chloe through a friend. At first you were skeptical because her prices were cheap, but looking on her page and seeing her designs, they looked really good and honestly she was hot. You messaged her and sorted out a time the day before. She had told you to just come in whenever since she had no bookings that day.

You nervously walked into the tattoo studio, You had worn short shorts and a crop top so she could tattoo you easier.

As you sat in the tattoo studio room, waiting for your tattoo artist to arrive, you looked around at the various art pieces and designs that adorned the walls. The anticipation of your upcoming tattoo started to build, a mix of excitement and nervousness buzzing in your chest.

Just as you were thinking about how long you had been waiting, the door to the room opened and in walked the tattoo artist – none other than Chloe, as fate would have it.

She smiled warmly when she saw you, her electric blue eyes scanning your exposed skin, taking in your outfit and the area you were interested in tattooing.

"Hey." she greeted, closing the door behind her. “y/n right? sorry i was just having a smoke break.”

“You’re fine.” You smiled “yeah that’s me. Chloe right? i’m here for the tramp stamp i sent you.”

Chloe nodded, “The one and only.”

her smile growing wider as she took a few steps closer to you. "Right, I remember. Tramp stamp, classic."

She looked you up and down, her gaze lingering on your exposed skin for a few seconds before she gestured towards the chair. "You can take a seat and i’ll get it drawn up."

“Okay perfect.” you went to sit on the chair and couldn’t help stealing glances at her, Her arm tattoo was really cool. As well as the one she had on her chest. “I like your ink.”

As you sat down, Chloe picked up a drawing pad and started sketching on it, preparing to draw up the design for your tattoo. She looked up briefly, noticing your glances at her tattoos. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, appreciating the compliments.

"Thanks." she said, her gaze meeting yours for a moment. "This one was done a while ago by someone else.. these ones i designed myself..” Her voice having a hint of nervousness in your presence.

“that’s so cool…”

“can i… look at them closer?” you blurted out.

Chloe looked up again, her hand still sketching out the design on the drawing pad. She chuckled softly at your excitement, clearly enjoying your interest.

"Sure." she said, glancing down at her own torso, where a few of her tattoos were visible. "You can… take a closer look, I mean if you want."

Chloe felt a shiver run down her spine as your fingers traced over her skin, following the lines of her tattoos. Your touch was light, but it sent a jolt through her, one that she hadn’t expected. “Damn these are sick..” you were being a bit forward touching her body when you had only just met her but thankfully chloe didn’t seem to mind.

She watched you closely as you examined her tattoos, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "T-thanks." she said, her voice a bit shaky than usual. making her curse internally for being so nervous

"So…is this your first ink? "

“yeah… i’m sort of nervous.” you admitted

Chloe nodded, her expression softening as she heard your admission. "It’s normal to be nervous.” she reassured. "But don’t worry, I’ve been doing this for a while. I’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible."

Her hands continued sketching on the drawing pad, designing the tramp stamp that would soon be permanently etched onto your skin.

“okay.” you nodded with a smile. This girl seemed so laid back and not the usual professional and stoic tattoo artists you had been recommended. But her aura was just inviting and you just trusted her.

Chloe noticed the smile on your face, and it made her feel more at ease. She was glad to know that you weren’t feeling intimidated. She turned the drawing pad to you. “how’s this looking?”

You looked at the sketch pad and saw it was a bit different from what you sent her but you actually liked it a lot more.

“ohh i actually like that a lot.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up as you expressed your approval of her design. “yeah?” she asked, her nervousness melting away in the face of your enthusiasm. “I tweaked it a bit, but i think it’ll look great on you.”

You smiled and nodded. You definitely trusted her design and process. “I think so too.”

Chloe’s confidence grew with your assent. Seeing your smile and hearing your trusting words gave her a boost. “Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” she said, setting aside the drawing pad and preparing some of the necessary equipment.

“You good to lie forward on the chair?”

You nodded and got up on the old ass chair that seemed like it was about to break honestly but again you trusted her. “yup. if the chair doesn’t break under me.”

Chloe chuckled, shaking her head at your comment about the chair. "Don’t worry, it’ll hold up. it’s seen many ass and tits in its day." she assured you, patting the chair for good measure, earning a laugh from you.

She took a moment to adjust the chair so that it was more comfortable for you, making sure you were situated properly. “Comfortable?”

You laughed at that as you settled yourself, it was a little awkward at first but you got comfortable and rested your head on your arms as you heard her moving around. “yeah.”

Chloe watched you get situated into the chair, taking a few moments to appreciate the view of your body in this position. She shook her head to clear her mind, reminding herself to stay focused on the task at hand.

She picked up the ink gun and prepared the needle, cleaning the area where the tattoo was going to be placed. “It’s gonna be a bit cold,” she warned, her voice soft and soothing. "But try to relax, okay?"

You nodded and when the cold water suddenly landed on your lower back, You tensed but soon got used to it. Trying not to shiver at the feeling of her hands on your back.

Chloe chuckled softly as she noticed you tense up when the cold water landed on your lower back. She continued to wipe the area, preparing it for the tattoo, her hands moving carefully and steadily.

Her fingers trailed across your skin, mapping out the spot where the tattoo would go. "You doin’ alright back there?" she asked, her voice low and smooth as she worked.

“mhm. still a bit nervous.”

Chloe hummed in acknowledgment, her eyes focused on her work. "It’s okay to be nervous. It’s a big step, getting your first ink." she reassured you, her voice gentle and soothing.

She gently wiped the area clean. “alright.. I’m gonna put the stencil on now okay?”

“mhm.” You nodded and looked back at her shyly.

Chloe smiled subtly as her eyes met yours, seeing the shyness in your gaze. She liked a nervous client, it made her feel in control.

"Hold still for a sec, babe." she said, her voice soft as she positioned the stencil over your lower back.

Babe.

the nickname echoed in your brain. But maybe she was flirty with all her customers.

You nodded and stayed still as she put the stencil on.

As she applied the stencil, Chloe's touch was light and delicate against your skin. She could feel the heat radiating off your body as she worked.

As she placed the stencil, her hand stayed on your lower back for a moment longer than necessary. She smiled at your compliance. "Great. We’re almost there."

You nodded and waited for her to take off the paper.

Chloe finished placing the stencil, her hand lingering on your skin for a moment before pulling away to remove the paper. "Perfect."

She examined the design against your skin, a few inches above the waistline of your shorts, making sure it was centered just right.

"Take a look. What do you think so far?" she asked, her voice eager.

You got up slowly, arching your back a bit as you did. You went and looked in the mirror, your back turned and your head turned to look. you checked it out before you nodded satisfied with the design and placement on your skin. “Oh that looks fucking hot. Yup. looks really good.”

Chloe watched with a grin as you stood and admired her work. She chuckled as you complimented the design, her eyes tracing over the lines of the tat.

"Hell yeah, it does." she said, pride in her voice. "I knew you'd look good with some ink. You like the placement?”

You looked and really liked where it was. not too high not too low. it sat perfectly right above where your panties where.

“I do. it’s perfect.”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree, her eyes darting over your body, taking in the placement of the tattoo. “it really is.”

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused. “alright then. Let’s get started.”

She indicated for you to lay back down on the chair. “you gonna be able to stay still for this?”

You laid forward on the chair, arching your back again, seeing if you would get the same reaction.

Chloe sucked in a small breath as you laid back down, arching your back and giving her an extra view. She had a hard time maintaining her professional demeanor as she took in the sight, her eyes raking over you for a momenlt.

She swallowed and cleared her throat, her hands itching to touch you in a way that was definitely not tattoo artist appropriate. “yeah, just like that..” she said, her voice a bit huskier than usual.

You pretended like that didn’t make the area between your thighs pulse. You laid forward and wiggled your ass a bit as you arched your hips slightly before laying flat. Acting as if you were just settling. You were definitely feeling bold today..

Chloe’s eyes widened as she watched you arch and wiggle your hips, her hands clenching slightly as her mind went to very unprofessional places. She took a moment to compose herself as you laid back down, trying to maintain her usual cool and calm demeanor.

“I can’t tell you whether it’ll be easy or not, everyone’s different...” she said, her voice a bit strained as she prepared the ink. “Just focus on your breathing and tell me if you need a break kay?.”

You nodded. “okay..” you knew it was obviously going to hurt, especially in such an area first time, but in a weird way it was also thrilling.

you rested your face on your hands looking in the mirror, your watched as she moved your shirt up for her and pulled your shorts down just slightly so your lace panties were visible. The fact that she did it for you instead of asking you to was a huge turn on. You couldn’t help squeezing your thighs together subtly as her large hands touched your exposed skin.

Chloe felt her heart skip a beat as she tugged your shorts down, exposing the lace underneath, her hands lingering a moment longer than necessary on the soft fabric. She swallowed hard, her eyes lingering on the sliver of skin she exposed, before forcing herself to focus. She hoped that her hands wouldn’t be too shaky. Having a hot chic in her tattoo chair making her lose all professionalism.

“Just try and stay still. I’m gonna start now.” she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

You watched her in the mirror, your eyes wandering over her body and her masculine demeanour.

Chloe could feel your eyes on her as she started to tattoo you, her own eyes flicking up to glance at you in the mirror. The heat of your gaze was making her feel flushed, and she had to focus extra hard to keep steady in her movements.

Her hands were deft and practiced, but she found herself struggling to concentrate on anything but your body and the way you watched her.

You tensed up slightly as the needle met your flesh. The burning sensation took a few minutes to get used to before you did.

“Breathe.”

Chloe’s voice was soft and soothing, but it held a commanding tone. She watched as you tensed up, feeling the way your body reacted under her touch. Her eyes flickered to your face in the mirror, checking to see if you were okay.

“Doing alright still?” she asked, her hand stilling for a moment.

“mhm.” you nodded. it didn’t hurt as much as you thought. But it was still unpleasant. Small sounds came from you now and then.

Chloe nodded as you assured her you were still good, her eyes flickering back down to focus on her work. She could tell that while the pain wasn’t too intense, it was still uncomfortable.

Every now and then, a small sound would escape your lips, and each one sent a jolt through her body. She could feel her own breathing getting a bit more ragged but she steeled herself, trying to stay professional.

You watched her in the mirror, the way her hand rested on your upper back… and her focused face, her brow furrowed and the way her hand worked… You hoped you weren’t getting the chair wet.

Chloe could feel the heat radiating off your body, her hand resting on your bare skin, feeling the little trembles as you adjusted to the pain. Her mind was racing with thoughts and urges that were completely inappropriate given the situation.

She could feel your body shifting under her hand, the small sounds you were making, and she had to use every ounce of willpower she had to keep herself from touching you in a very unprofessionally way.

As she hit a more sensitive spot, you made a small sound. Your hand gripping the chair.

Chloes hand stopped momentarily as she checked in with you, "Hurts a bit there huh?" she asked, her voice soft and soothing.

She glanced up at you in the mirror, seeing your hand gripping the chair, and she had to resist the urge to gently run her fingers over your skin to comfort you.

“it’s okay… I can take it..”

Chloe could hear the determination in your voice as you said you could take it, and it only made her proud. She nodded and got back to work, her hand moving with a firm and steady touch.

“You're doing great babe." she said, her voice low and smooth. "Just a bit more and then we're done."

You stayed still for her until she was done. your mind distracted by her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and yet not long enough, Chloe finished up the tattoo. She cleaned it gently, her hands gentle and sure.

As she put the tools away, she took a moment to admire her work, her eyes studying the tattoo on your skin. "That's it. We're done." she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

As she cleaned it up. The worst part of the process you found out.

Chloe chuckled seeing you tensed up as she cleaned the tattoo, knowing that part usually wasn’t very pleasant.

“Almost done now." she said, her voice soothing as she finished up. "Just a sec…”

She reached for some of the anti inflammatory cream to help with the healing and applied it carefully, her hands gently rubbing it into your skin.

You stayed still for her.

Chloe was careful as she applied the cream, her hands moving gently over your skin, trying to soothe any pain. Once she was finished, she stepped back, her eyes flickering over the tattoo once more.

"You can look if you'd like." she said, gesturing to the mirror, a hint of pride in her voice.

You got up and looked excitedly. you admired your new tramp stamp loving how it looked especially with this outfit. “fuck… i love it so much.. you did really good.”

Chloe's stomach flip as you looked at the tattoo, a smile crossing her face as she saw the look of love and excitement in your eyes.

"Hell yeah, you look damn hot." she said, her voice a bit cocky as she admired her work. "You really like it then?"

“fuck yes. It looks amazing, Thankyou…How much do i owe you?”

Chloe's chest felt warm as you complimented the tattoo again, proud of the work she’d done.

"Considering how much I enjoyed working on such a hot chick, it’s on the house." she said, her voice nonchalant but her eyes filled with a hint of mischief.

“oh? is that what you say to every chic you find hot that walks through your door?”

Chloe chuckled, her smirk growing wider as you called her out on her statement.

"Not every chick." she said, her eyes holding your gaze as she leaned back against the chair. “Wouldn’t have much business then.”

“Right…” You chucked softly as you leaned against the counter.

Chloe watched as you leaned against the counter, her eyes flickering over your body, taking in the way your shirt rode up, the way your hair framed your face.

She couldn’t remember the last time she became so flustered and turned on by a client. It was unprofessional and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“well.. uh.. my schedules open for the rest of the day. Any other ink you’ve been wanting… or randomly decided on?”

You couldn’t believe she would tattoo you for free and then willingly offer more. but hell you weren’t about to pass that up.

“i’ve wanted a chest tattoo… “

Chloe raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face as she heard your request.

"A chest tattoo huh?" she said, her eyes slowly raking over your chest, lingering on the exposed bit peeking out from your top. "Anything in mind?"

She shifted on the chair and leaned forward slightly, her eyes dark and intense, her voice low and slightly rough.

“Honestly the design you did for this one was sick so… hit me. draw one up.”

Chloe was surprised but thrilled that you wanted her to design another tattoo for you, and right now.

"That’s a lot of pressure you’re putting on me here, babe." she said, a hint of banter in her voice. "You sure you put that much trust in me?"

“Of course. Unless you want me to leave?”

"No way."

Chloe's response was instant and firm, surprising even her. She didn’t want you to leave. She wanted you to stay here with her for as long as possible.

“Alright. I have something in mind then.” she said, as she grabbed her smoke kit and began to roll. “you smoke?”

“Not much…” you admitted

Chloe nodded as she focused on rolling her joint, listening as you told her you didn't smoke often. It didn't surprise her. You didn't seem the type.

"Do you mind if I smoke then? I find it helps loosen up the creative brain." she said, holding up the joint in her hand before reaching for a lighter.

“Not at all.” you smiled and sat on the couch, wincing at the tenderness on your lower back against the leather.

Chloe lit the joint and took a slow drag, holding the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. She felt the familiar relaxing effect of the weed as she walked over and sat on the couch next to you, her eyes flickering to your wincing.

"How’s the pain level?“

She asked, her voice a bit softer.

“honestly. hurts more than when it was being done.” you said with a slight chuckle, both out of nervousness and forwardness.

"Yeah it feels like hell once the adrenaline wears off." She said with a laugh, taking another drag on the joint.

Her eyes wandered over your face, studying your expression as the pain hit you a bit more.

"You sure you want another one then? Right now?"

“Hell yeah.”

Chloe watched your unwavering determination with amusement and admiration. You were one stubborn, fearless chick, and she liked it.

"Alright then tough girl." She chuckled, taking another drag before offering you the joint. "Hit that and let's get some art goin' here."

“Okay.” You agreed with her no questions and went to take it before she held it for you to hit.

Chloe watched as you leaned forward, your lips around the joint as you inhaled. Your head was mere inches from her own, and she could feel the heat rolling off your body.

Her eyes were locked on your mouth as you finished taking a drag and leaned back, her mind clouded with a combination of the weed and the close proximity.

You looked her in the eye as you did it and blew it out coughing only a little. Thank god.

Chloe swallowed hard as she watched your lips purse around the joint, the cloud of smoke that appeared as you blew it out making her wish she was sitting even closer than she already was.

She took the joint from you and blew out a long stream of smoke, trying to maintain her composure. "Not bad." she said, her voice low and a bit strained.

“Thanks.” You said with a small laugh, impressed you didn’t have a coughing fit,

Chloe also found herself smiling, watching as a small laugh passed over your lips. She was used to seeing people flinch and cry from the pain of getting inked, but here you were laughing, relaxed on her couch hitting her blunt, and wanting more.

"Now..." she said, her eyes lingering on your chest, "I gotta see some skin before we can start."

You nodded and pulled your top down a bit the top of your breasts, where chloe had definitely noticed you were in fact braless.

Chloe swallowed, her body reacting involuntarily to the sight before her.

She took another drag on the joint, trying to calm her racing heart, before shifting in her seat and leaning closer to you.

"Perfect." she said quietly, her eyes lingering on your skin. "Right here..."

“yeah i like around this sort of area” You traced your finger across the area between your collarbones and the beginning of your breasts. indicating where you wanted the tattoo. Chloe followed your touch with her eyes, her breath caught in her throat.

"Right there?" she asked touching the area you showed her, her voice a bit strained as her mind began to imagine the design there, permanently attached to your skin.

You nodded.

Chloe cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus. She had to be professional, she reminded herself. Despite her body and brain having very un-professional thoughts and feelings.

She leaned forwards, her eyes focused on the skin that would soon be inked. Her fingers gently traced the same path you had, feeling the smoothness of your skin.

"You know it's gonna hurt like a sonuvabitch right here." she said, her voice rough. "You really sure you want it there?"

“yup. positive.”

"Damn girl."

Chloe chuckled, admiring your determination. There was no way she could talk you out of that now, and she knew it.

"Alright then." she said, her fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary before she pulled away. "You relax on the couch and don’t move. I'm gonna get my sketchbook."

You nodded and stayed there obediantly, you felt your chest flutter as you watched Chloe get up from the couch and moved towards her desk, her body feeling a bit unsteady. There was something about you that made her feel so off kilter, and it was exciting as much as it was a bit irritating.

She bent over to grab her sketchbook, knowing full well that you had a perfect view of her ass from behind, and didn’t bother to hide the small smirk that tugged at her lips.

You, of course looked. You couldn’t help yourself.

Chloe could feel your eyes on her as she leaned over, choosing to linger there a few seconds longer for your viewing pleasure.

She made her way back over to the couch, sketchbook in hand, making sure to sway her hips as she walked. She sat back down next to you, leaning closer to you than before.

“can i have another hit..?” you asked with more confidence than before.

“go for it hotstuff.”

Chloe took another drag on the joint before handing it to you. As you reached for it, her fingers grazed over yours, a subtle, almost electric touch. You couldn’t hide your reaction to that nickname that would havw otherwise given you the ick from anyone else.

She kept a watchful eye on you as you took another puff, her eyes locked on your mouth as you inhaled, her own lips parting slightly at the sight.

You inhaled and blew it out keeping eye contact. the sexual tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

Chloe’s throat was feeling drier and drier with each passing second. The way you held her gaze as you exhaled the smoke, your lips slightly parted, your chest rising with each breath… it was driving her crazy.

She had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep herself in check, her leg bouncing up and down nervously as the tension increased. Her eyes never left yours, the connection between you two almost tangible.

After a bit of talking and smoking back and forth chloe got started on your chest tattoo, You were laid back in the chair with her leaning over you, her face inches away from yours as she worked on you.

Chloe’s mind was in overdrive. The position you both were in, with her body bent over you and her face so close to yours, was driving her insane.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, the tattoo ink, the steady buzz of the gun in the background. But all she could think about was you, the way you looked, the way your chest rose and fell with your breath, the scent of your skin.

You made sure to control your breathing when she pulled away, You inhaled and as she worked on you, exhaled slowly as not to fuck up her ink.

Chloe was both grateful and frustrated by your breathing. Grateful because you were making things so much easier by not flinching and squirming. But frustrated because every time you drew in a breath, your chest rose slightly, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes on her work and not get distracted.

She was silently thankful that the constant buzz of the tattoo gun was covering up the sound of her heart, which was pumping at a million miles an hour.

Chloe's eyes flicked up to your face as you made small sounds in response to the pain. She could see the slight wince of discomfort, the tightness around your eyes as the gun ran over the more tender parts of the tattoo.

But even that couldn't stop the heat pooling in her gut as you lay beneath her, writhing slightly as she worked her magic.

As she worked on the other side instead of moving around she chose to lean over you. her face inches away now. Not that you minded. You could feel her breath on your skin, she held you still by holding you by the arm gently but firm, besides the uncomfortable sting of the tattoo gun you were soaked

Chloe didn't even realize she was getting closer to you as she worked. All she knew was that she wanted to be closer to you, to feel more of your skin against hers.

She held you still with a gentle touch to your arm, her breath coming out in short shallow puffs against your skin, her eyes fixated on the ink on your body.

Her own body was reacting involuntarily, her pulse racing and her chest heaving as she leaned over you, the scent and sight of you almost overwhelming.

The scent of weed was thick in the air, the buzz of the tattoo gun blending in with the heavy metal music playing overhead. And as Chloe leaned over you, her chest hovering mere inches from your face, her bullet necklace dangled over your face every now and then when she moved to dip the needle end in.

She was completely focused on the task at hand, but even as she worked, her body was screaming at her to touch you, to get closer, to satisfy the ache within her.

“you… can hold my hand if you want.”

You did and gripped her hand hard but not too hard as she worked, You were excited for how this tat would look and also getting excited in a different way.

Chloe felt a jolt of electricity shoot up her arm. Holding your hand, feeling your fingers grip tightly to her own, sent her mind spiralling.

She could feel the tension in your hand, the way your fist tightened as the needle ran over sensitive skin. But it also grounded her, gave her something to focus on as she tried to suppress her own urges.

"Breathe." she said, her voice a bit rougher than normal. "Just keep breathing for me."

You nodded. you were quiet indicating it hurt otherwise you would be more vocal.

Chloe could feel the tension in your body as she continued working. You were being quiet, only letting out small winces every now and then, and she could see the pain in your eyes.

"Almost done, babe." she said quietly, her hand firmly holding yours. "You're doing so good. You're doing great. Just a few more minutes."

You nodded, squeezing your thighs together at her praise.

Chloe's eyes glanced down to your legs briefly as you squeezed them together, and she quickly looked back up, her gaze darkened. She could tell you were starting to lose control, and she was on the same edge as well.

"You're being so good." she repeated, her voice soft but firm. "We're almost there. You can take a little bit more, right?"

“yeah… i can take it.”

"Good girl."

Chloe's breath hitched as those words slipped from her lips, her eyes boring into yours as she looked down at you. Your submission, the fact that you were willing to take the pain for the sake of the tattoo, it was driving her wild.

She was so focused on you, on the tattoo, she was nearly done but she didn't want it to end.

You gave her a look through your lashes, you wondered if she was feeling the same way, but from the way her breath hitched at your sounds and how she gripped your body you could sense it.

Chloe could feel your gaze on her as she continued working, her body shuddering as she felt your eyes on her. And the way you looked at her, those big sultry “fuck me” eyes, nearly made her knees buckle.

She was losing control, losing herself in the sensations, the pain, the pleasure, the sheer need to touch you. But she had to keep it together for now, just until the tattoo was done.

As she dipped the needle back into the ink she took a hit of the joint sitting in the tray, before blowing it out.

“open your mouth.”

You opened your mouth obediently for the joint.

Chloe leaned over you, bringing the joint to your mouth, her hand gripping your chin. As you parted your lips to take a drag, she nearly groaned out loud.

The sight of your mouth open, your tongue darting out to take the joint, had her mind spinning. She was so close to the edge, she could feel her own control slipping by the second.

As she gripped your chin you tried not to moan. You looked her in the eye as you inhaled, your thighs squeezing together.

The look you gave her as you took the joint nearly broke her. Your gaze, your soft lips around the joint, she gripped your chin hard now, her body leaning over yours, her eyes fixed on your mouth as she watched you take a long, slow drag.

Her mind was racing, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, the sounds in the room blending together in a fuzzy mix of sensations. You blew it out towards her face.

Chloe couldn’t stop the small shiver that ran through her body. as you did this. The weed in her system combined with the sight of you, laying on the chair, eyes heavy, breath coming out in soft pants, was intoxicating.

She took the joint from your mouth and tossed it onto the tray, before leaning over you, her hands planted on either of your shoulders, trapping you in place.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice low and rough.

You giggled softly. “maybe…” clearly the joint had loosened you up and made your nerves less stiff.

Chloe smirked at your response, her eyes darkening at the sound of your soft, breathy laugh. She had you right where she wanted you.

“Yeah? You’re enjoying being a tease?, being all laid out for me to work on?”

She shifted slightly, leaning over you a bit more, pressing her body against yours.

Your breath hitched as her body pressed into yours as she towered over you. You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “yeah…” you admitted “I do like it..”

Chloe's gaze darkened further as you admitted, in that soft, breathless voice, that you liked this. Being at her mercy, pinned beneath her body, the pain and pleasure mixing together in a dizzying whirlwind.

She leaned in closer, the scent of your skin, the feel of your body against her, driving her crazy. “you’re really fucking hot...” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“so are you…” You mumbled, your breath fanning her lips.

Chloe was done. All the control she had left was gone as you spoke to her in that soft, breathy voice, your breath fanning her lips.

She leaned in closer, her body pressing against yours, pinning you to the chair. “You wanna do something about it?” she asked, her voice a low whisper, her lips just millimeters from yours. absolutely you did.

“fuck yes.” you said before she kissed you hungrily, your legs wrapped around her and your arms gripped her lean but strong upper back. Chloe had waited long enough, and as soon as the words left your lips she captured your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss. Her tongue was demanding and possessive as it parted your lips, her body pressed completely against yours.

Her hands trailed down your body, gripping and grabbing at your skin as her body moved between your legs, her hips rolling against yours.

You moaned as her hips rolled against yours, your moans being swallowed by hers. The sound of your moans was like music to her ears, it drove her crazy. Her body moved against yours in a slow, steady rhythm, each roll of her hips sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

Her hands were all over you, touching and grabbing, as if she couldn't get enough of you. The taste of your lips, the scent of your skin, the sounds you were making... it was intoxicating. As her hand snuck down into your shorts, she looked up at you, her pupils dilated, “can i?” she asked in what sounded like a whimper, you nodded a little bit too fast, with your consent chloe’s hand cautiously slipped into your panties finding your soaked folds and puffy clit, you let out a shaky moan and tipped your head back, your hips bucking into her hand.

Her mouth moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking at the tender flesh while she gently but firmly drew circles on your clit. Watching in fascination as you squirmed in her seat. She needed more.

Feeling her tug at your bottoms you lifted your hips eagerly letting her pull them off down your legs letting the soaked fabric of your panties join them and kicked them off your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Chloe ran her hands up your thighs, gripping them in her hands as she looked down at you. Her eyes darkened seeing you spread out beneath her, exposed and at her mercy.

You sat up on your elbows and watched in anticipation as Chloe’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of you, laid out before her, so willing and wanting. She dropped to her knees in front of you, her hands running up and down your thighs, getting closer to your cunt. You couldn’t help but let out an audible moan and watched her as she lowered herself,

Slowly, almost torturously, she leaned in and planted a kiss on your inner thigh, her lips tracing a path upwards towards your cunt, her eyes never leaving yours. Chloe smirked at the sound of your moan as her hand came down with a playful slap on your thighs She repeated the action a few times, alternating between gentle kisses and stinging slaps, watching as your body writhed beneath her touch.

“That hurt?” she asked, her voice a low whisper, her lips against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You nodded, “I like it..”

“Course you do.”

Chloe chuckled as she came back up to kiss you, her shaky breath against your lips, which she captured again in a fierce, hungry kiss. Her tongue was demanding and possessive as it parted your lips, her body pressed completely against yours. “you taste good.. ” she said, her voice sultry and low, as she once again got back down between your legs continuing to plant kisses on your inner thigh, her hands gripping your legs, holding you in place.

Her fingers dug into your skin, her touch firm and possessive, as she continued to explore your body, her kisses getting closer and closer to your pussy. “bet you taste better down here…” she sounded as if she was breathless, like the sight of you had taken her breathe away.

You watched her and felt her blue hair tickle your thighs as she moved closer and closer to where you needed her.

She leaned in, her breath hot against your skin, her eyes locked on yours as her lips finally made contact with your pussy. You let out a moan through your teeth and your body reacted to it, Her eye contact was so intimate you looked away flusteredly

Seeing you look away made something possessive flare within Chloe. She didn’t want you looking anywhere but at her, she wanted your full attention.

She reached up and gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look back at her. Her mouth was still planted between your legs, her tongue dancing over your sensitive bud.

“Look at me.” she commanded, her voice firm, her eyes fixed on yours.

you turned your head making eye contact shyly.

Her tongue flicked against your clit, her lips sucking gently, her fingers gripping your hips, holding you in place as she worked on you.

“Oh… fuck chloe.” you had never in your life been eaten out this good, she was hungry.

Hearing you say her name in that raspy voice, the way you cried out, filled Chloe with a sense of power. She loved having you like this, completely at her mercy, your body responding to every flick and touch, every movement of her tongue and lips.

Wrapping her arms around your legs, she pulled you closer, her mouth working hungrily against you, her eyes still locked on yours Your cheeks were hot as you tried your best to keep eye contact with her, keeping yourself propped up on your elbows

You were struggling to keep eye contact, your body trembling and quaking with pleasure under her touch, but Chloe was relentless. Her eyes held yours captive, demanding your attention as her tongue worked its magic on your most sensitive spot.

She could feel your legs weakening, your arms shuddering as you tried in vain to hold yourself up. With a growl, she gripped your hips, pulling you closer, her tongue and lips applying more pressure, more intensity, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You moaned and one hand moved to grip something, anything, you settled on the back of her head, your fingernails gently raking on her neck. Chloe groaned at this.

Her mouth continued its assault on you, her tongue moving with a frenzied pace, her lips sucking at your clit with a fierce intensity.

Your chest rose and fell as your moans got louder and more whiney, you wondered if you were the first client she had done this to or if this was a common accurance with the way she was devouring you so good.

As your moans were growing louder, higher pitched and more desperate, Chloe was consumed by this act, completely lost in the moment. Her focus was solely on you, on the sounds you were making, the taste of you on her tongue.

She’d had clients come onto her before, yes, but nothing could compare to this. The connection she felt with you, the way your body responded to her touch… it was different. It was intimate and intense and utterly addictive.

“Chloe… shit.. oh my god you’re so good at this…” your shaky voice filled her ears.

Hearing your voice, breathless and ragged from pleasure, your words of praise only made Chloe double down. She wanted to give you as much pleasure as she could, make you moan and cry out her name in ecstasy.

She flattened her tongue against your clit, a guttural noise escaping her throat as she feasted on you, her hands gripping tighter at your hips to keep you still.

“So good… fuck.. yes baby… right there.” You praised.

Hearing your words of encouragement only fueled Chloe's desire. She loved the way you responded to her touch, the way you writhed beneath her, the way you called out her name.

She focused on the spot you had praised, applying more pressure with her tongue, swirling and lapping at your little clit, wanting to push you over the edge, to make you lose control completely.

When she added a finger you cried out, her digit entered you, slipping inside your wetness, you were lost in pleasure, her relentless double action on your cunt had you a squirming, whiney mess.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from your face, watching as you came undone beneath her touch. The sight of you, squirming and writhing, your body trembling and quaking as she worked her fingers and tongue, it was almost too much for her to handle.

She wanted you to fall apart completely, to lose control completely, and she showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

As she added another finger, stretching you open, you let out a louder moan making her pussy throb.

The stretch felt so good as her tongue continued its action on your clit. When she started to pump her fingers, you were utterly out of your own control.

“Fuck… fuck..!! chloe..” Hearing you cry out her name, so breathless and wanton, was doing things to Chloe that she couldn't explain. It was the most delicious sound and it fueled her desire to push you further and further, deeper into the abyss of ecstasy

"That’s it," she purred, her voice low and sultry, "let go babe, I got you."

You obeyed her and a string of girly whines, cusses and groans came from you as you came, making a mess of her to her utter delight.

Chloe was hypnotised as you came undone, crying out her name in waves of ecstasy, Chloe slowed her actions but didn't stop completely. She watched in awe as you trembled and shook, your body a trembling mess of pleasure and exhaustion.

She lifted her head up and looked at you, a satisfied smirk on her face, her chin and mouth glistening in the lamplight. "damn..." she said breathlessly, still reeling from the sheer intensity of what had just taken place.

Chloe slowly withdrew her fingers, her breath still ragged and uneven from the intensity of moment. She climbed up from her kneeling position, her eyes never leaving yours, and perched on the edge of the chair beside you.

She placed a hand on your stomach, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, and watched as you laid there, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

“jesus christ… that was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen,” she said, a hint of awe in her voice.

You laughed softly, Still recovering from the most intense orgasm you’d had in a while. “fuck…”

Chloe chuckled softly in response, a satisfied and lazy grin tugging at her lips. She was still coming down from the intensity of the moment herself, but she couldn't stop watching you, taking in the sight of you lying before her, flushed and breathless and beautiful.

She reached out a hand and gently brushed some stray strands of hair away from your face, her touch light and gentle. "You okay there?" she asked, her voice still a bit rough.

“Yeah.. i’m good.” in your mind you couldn’t believe that really happened, your first tattoo and you get your pussy ate by a hot tattoo artist chic. But you somehow managed to play it cool.

Chloe smiled at your response, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns on your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your skin under her touch.

She knew what you were thinking, could see it in your eyes, and she couldn't help but smirk. "Not quite the typical tattoo experience, I know," she teased, earning another laugh from you

“I would have got one sooner.”

Chloe chuckled at your comment, her smirk widening into a full-fledged grin. "I'll have to keep that in mind for future bookings," she joked, her eyes sparkling.

She continued to trace her fingers over your stomach, her touch light and gentle, as if she was savoring the feeling of your skin beneath her fingertips. "You're welcome to come back anytime," she added, her voice low and suggestive.

“I think i will.” You giggled. but you meant it. completely.

“lemme clean you up hot stuff.” she gave your thigh a pat before rising up and grabbing some paper towels and her water bottle before returning to your side, gathering a generous amount on the paper towels before cleaning up any remaining fluids from your “encounter”. You winced a bit from the sensitivity. Much like when she cleaned your tattoo.

Chloe continued to clean you, being mindful of the tender flesh between your thighs, she knew how sensitive you were in that area now, and the sound of your wince went straight to her core.

"Sorry babe.," she murmured as she gently cleaned you up, her touch deliberately gentle.

“Don’t be.”

"She hummed softly in reply, her eyes still fixed on your body as she continued her gentle cleanup.

She couldn't resist the urge to touch you, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your sensitive skin, as she took in the sight of you lying there before her, so open and vulnerable, your body still quaking from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Can i have my shorts and panties back?” you asked with a slight grin sitting up straight.

Chloe nodded, her gaze lingering on your body for a moment longer before she reluctantly pulled away. She moved over to the side of the room where your discarded clothes were lying, and picked up your shorts and panties.

She walked back over to you, a cocky smirk still playing at the corners of her mouth, and handed your clothes over, You slipped the panties on your legs and then pulled them up doing the same with your shorts, with Chloe watching you silently as you put your clothes back on, her eyes roving over your body appreciatively. She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as your tantalizing skin disappeared under the fabric, but she tried to mask it with her usual cocky demeanour.

“alright. Lemme finish up the tattoo. got a bit distracted.” Her voice carried a teasing tone.

“Yeah just a little.” You teased. “but i think we both did.”

Chloe chuckled at your remark, unable to deny the truth in it. “Yeah, yeah.”

She moved back up to your chest, her focus shifting back to the task at hand.

As she resumed working on the tattoo, your mind kept replaying the events of the past few minutes over and over again, the feeling and sight of her buried between your legs eating you like you were her last meal still fresh and vivid in your mind.

As she finished your chest tattoo, the pain contrasting with the pleasure you had seconds ago surprisingly pleasant. Once she finished you smiled.

Chloe took a step back, admiring her work. The tattoo looked perfect on your skin, a permanent and sexy mark on your body that she had put there.

you gave her a warm smile “let me see.”

Chloe pulled a handheld mirror from the table and held it up so you could see your reflection in it. Her gaze followed your every move, watching your reaction as you took in the sight of your new tattoo.

"what do you think?" she asked, her voice steady but eager. She was silently desperate for your approval, her heart aching to hear your words of praise.

As you looked at the tattoo through the mirror, admiring it from every angle, chloe was behind you, both checking for your reaction and getting another look at your ass.

“fuck… I love that..” you said as you looked at it through the mirror from different angles. “you did amazing chloe.” that sentence had two meanings. Chloe's heart skipped a beat. The words you said sounded like music to her ears, and she couldn't help but bask in your praise. Her eyes roamed over her ink on your skin again.

"yeah? you really like it?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of insecurity. she needed to hear you say it again, to know that she had truly satisfied you with her work.

“absolutely Chloe. thankyou so so much.” You wanted to kiss her but didn’t know if that was weird, even during this weird exchange. Seeing how much you loved the tattoo, how satisfied you were with her work... it meant everything to her. And when you looked at her like that, like you wanted to kiss her, she felt her walls crumbling, her usual cool and collected facade faltering.

When she saw you were going in your purse to pay a mixture of anticipation and reluctance coursing through her veins. She didn’t want this moment to end, didn’t want to go back to the cold and professional exchange of money.

“Uh..right yeah. Yeah, money.”

Truly she did need the money but she just couldn’t bare to see you go. She didn’t want this to end.

she spoke up, her tone a little bit needier than she liked.

“honestly… it’s fine. honestly after what we did, forget it.”

You gave her a look, insisting you had to pay her. “Chloe c’mon..”

“No. seriously it’s fine. As long as you’re willing to…y’know make this a regular thing. it’s totally on the house, if that’s okay …”

Your eyes lit up, it wasn’t everyday your tattoo artist fucked you silly and then gave you a good tattoo, free at that. You definitely weren’t about to say no. This was a dream to anyone that wanted tattoos.

“Sure. I mean if you’re okay with it.” you gave a slight smirk to the blue haired punk girl with various tattoos across her arm and body, pretending like inside your jumping for joy at the thought of doing this kind of thing with her again.

“Course. Hit me up whenever you want some ink. …or anything else. I got you.”

Needless to say, You had found gold when you found Chloe price.

[featherandferns]

day 8/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘Tell me baby, do you recognise me? Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me’ - Wham!, Last Christmas | angst | jj maybank x ex!kook!fem!reader

The country club was donned in green and gold. Every room had at least two Christmas trees, trimmed with golden tinsel and ruby red decor and designer baubles and ornaments. Garlands were wound around the staircases and intricate paper chains that looked as though angels themselves might have created them hung in every room around the window frames. It was dark outside and cold with December chills but the building shone like the northern star. JJ couldn’t care less though. The jazz covers of Christmas classics were nothing more than buzzing in his ear. The strong smell of champagne and cinnamon and dried orange and roasted chestnuts were nauseating. The whimsical, warm glow of the fairy lights only fuelled the fire in his heart. The fire that started to burn the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

You’re sitting at the dinner table dressed in an emerald green glittery dress. Your hair falls in perfect ringlets around your beautiful face, flawless from blemish. A face that haunts JJ’s dreams. A face that’s now nothing more than a phantom of his memories. The ruby red lips lift with an easy smile and you laugh melodically at something Kelce says. And then JJ watches as your hand sinks onto Topper’s like falling snow, softly enveloping his hand with yours, and JJ can almost feel the warmth of your palm on his skin. Remembers how it felt to have your fingers trace his face, sweeping over his cheeks like he was something expensive. Like he was something valuable to you. 

“Merry Christmas,” JJ smiles. 

You gasp angelically as he offers out a small box. It’s wrapped in blue and silver paper. There’s a wonky bow that’s fighting to stay stuck atop of the gift. It’s nothing impressive but JJ took his time whittling the ornament that you carefully retrieve. Your smile is one of awe as you take in the intricate design. He’s mesmerised by your eyes as they trace over the wooden angel; the Christmas tree lights reflect on your irises. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper. There’s something in the look that you lay onto JJ that has his heart stirring. He feels like a pre-teen having his first kiss all over again when you lean over to kiss him on his tattered old sofa. His hands go clammy and his cheeks grow warm and his heart wants to break and beat right out of his chest. Your breath is warm and sweet from candy as you quietly speak a hair’s width from his lips. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”

The tray in his hands feels light as a feather as JJ stands and stares. He keeps his distance from you - has been all night - and watches from across the room, stealing glances, trying to see if you’ve noticed him. Trying to see if you care. A part of him is angry. He feels cheated. Hell, he was. A part of him wants to march right up to you and force you to meet his gaze. To ask you if you recognise him, in some rhetorical quip. After all, it’s been a year - it wouldn’t surprise him. 

But there’s a longing there too. It lingers as JJ does his rounds of the tables of the country club’s Christmas party, as he tops up champagne flutes with the fizzy wine. An urge to ask you if you remember last Christmas. If you remember the handmade present and the sleepless nights and the tryst-filled mornings and the conversations that roamed far and wide in topic and scope. If you remember how it felt to be seen and to see him, and if you remember the feeling of the walls breaking down from kook to Pogue, until you were nothing more than a boy and a girl, falling in love. At least, that’s what he thought. Now, watching you sit pretty as a Magnolia in May, decorated like some gingerbread house, giggling and grinning amongst your peers in their designer threads: now it feels laughable to think that JJ Maybank had fallen in love with you. It’s hysterical that he thought you might be able to love him too. 

But as JJ walks past party-goers dressed in his work attire, he loses himself in a daydream. One of you rising from your seat and seeking him out in the corridors. He can practically smell your perfume as your hand reaches for his cheek; can recall the feel of your cool rings against his skin as you guide his lips to yours. If you kissed him tonight without an apology, JJ knows deep down how easily he’d fall under that spell again. 

His friends were right. Pogues and Kooks don’t belong together. To save himself from tears, he oughta give his heart to someone more fitting. Not just that - he oughta give his heart to someone special. 

Your eyes finally catch JJ’s. He can’t help but freeze. He holds your gaze. His lips don’t move, staying steady set in their half-frown, and he waits. Waits for some flash of recognition. Some flash of understanding. Of sympathy, for him having to see you with your kook boyfriend on what was almost the anniversary of what JJ had once marked as the most treasured day of his life. JJ stands still and unchanging as he watches your eyes break away from his gaze. They latch back onto someone sitting across the table from you. He feels as if he’s hallucinating as you laugh at something someone says. He feels like he’s the butt of the joke.

To think, he thought you were someone to rely on. Maybe all JJ had ever been was a shoulder for you to cry on. A vessel for you to pour your worries and fears into, of living a life lacking in adventure and passion. It seems to him, standing here in the country club, a waiter and an attendee, that you’re rather comfortable in your world. A world that JJ would never be a part of. A world that he never would want to be a part of, either. 

“Screw this,” JJ mumbles. He ditches the bottle of champagne on some random table and ignores the complaints of the guests. He nudges his way through the gaggles of guests until he gets to the door. Screw this and screw you. He’ll find someone else. Maybe, one day, he will. 

As he’s about to pass through the doorway towards the staff room, JJ falters. Sighing, hanging his head, he can’t help but take one last look to your table. 

You’re looking right at him. His lips part in surprise. 

There’s a heaviness in your eyes. A sadness, deep and longing, that tugs on his heart just as it would have done a year ago. Back when JJ knew you. Your lips part as if you might mouth something. But then they close and you purse them together. Instead, you just stare at him. And somehow, someway, JJ knows what that look means. Last Christmas was a thing of the past; as fickle and passing as a Hallmark movie. JJ gives a subtle nod and turns away, and he pushes open the door to the staff room, closing it on your world. 

He’ll try and look for someone more fitting. Maybe he will find someone who suits his life and who makes sense in his poverty stricken, abuse-soaked life. But they’ll never be as special as you were.

[highladyandromeda]

Shadows of the Heart

Part 6

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of wounds hurting, but nothing particularly graphic but it is located on the arm.

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4], [Part 5]

The House of Wind, perched high above the glittering city of Velaris, offered a view that could steal the breath from the lungs of gods and fae alike. Yet, the sight of the ten thousand stairs winding down to the city dimmed the splendor of the vista before Y/n. Memories of youthful races with Rhys and his sister, of nights spent laughing under the stars until they were too intoxicated to winnow home, brought a nostalgic smile to her lips. There was a particular memory, hazed with the fog of drunken mirth, of them staggering up these very stairs, each step a battle against gravity and their swirling heads, pausing periodically to empty their stomachs into the bushes that edged the ascent.

She considered, not for the first time, leveraging those memories to coax Rhys—or even Mor—into assisting her down, no questions asked. 

Cassian, too, would have offered a lift without a second thought, especially after her rigorous training session with the Valkyries that morning. But admitting, even silently, that she couldn't manage on her own was a concession Y/n wasn't ready to make. Not after her display of strength and defiance the day before. Her pride, stubborn and fierce, whispered warnings that Rhys and Mor would see right through her, and Cassian...well, Cassian might not connect the dots immediately, but word would spread.

Biting her lip, Y/n weighed her options. It was only ten thousand steps. She wasn't so frail, so weary, that the descent seemed insurmountable—though the unhealed cut on her arm begged to differ. She had concealed it beneath thin bindings and a long-sleeved blouse of pale blue, cropped at the waist and chosen in the hopes it wouldn't appear too out of place on such a warm, sun-kissed day.

"Are you headed to town?"

Y/n looked behind, half-expecting to find Azriel clad in his typical leathers, silently admonishing herself for letting him surprise her once more. Instead, she found herself caught off-guard by the casual attire he donned—a black pair of pants and a navy shirt loosely tucked in, revealing a hint of his Illyrian tattoos at the v-neck. Her gaze lingered a moment too long, tracing the intricate designs across his skin and the way his shirt clung to the contours of his well-defined chest. 

Azriel's smirk, a rare break in his stoic facade, acknowledged her wandering gaze. Before the silence stretched too thin, he offered, "Would you like a ride?"

The question hung between them, weighted with unspoken implications. Y/n turned back to the stairs, the vast descent looming before her. 

"Y/n?" His call, soft yet insistent, pulled her back from the edge of her thoughts.

He had stepped closer, almost as if drawn by her hesitation. 

"No...I mean, no thank you, Azriel,"

At the uncertainty in his gaze, she felt the need to elaborate, “I wouldn’t want to hold you up, I’ll go myself just…a bit later”

Her excuse sounded thin even to her ears, yet Azriel's offer remained, undeterred by her wavering resolve. "It would be my pleasure to escort you. They say the view is even more spectacular by air."

Y/n seized the opportunity, masking her relief with a playful curiosity. "They?"

Azriel's cheeks tinged with red, his words stumbling over themselves. "You know, Mor, Nesta, Elai—" His voice faltered, a rare display of vulnerability.

"Very well," Y/n conceded, allowing him a graceful escape from his flustered explanation. "I wouldn't want to be late for our meeting. And, I suppose it's been ages since I've seen Velaris from above. Only if it's no bother to you."

"No, it's no bother at all," Azriel assured her, his words tumbling out with an eagerness he couldn't mask.

Y/n positioned herself, lifting her arms in readiness. Azriel's touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted her, a care in his hold that sent an unexpected warmth flooding through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resisting the urge to draw closer, to seek comfort in the strength of his embrace.

Instead, her eyes traced the tattoos she had glimpsed before, a silent admiration for the art that marked his skin. Around them, Azriel's shadows danced with a life of their own, keeping her secure and holding her hair from flailing in the wind. 

In the silence that enveloped them, Y/n could discern the faint, rapid beating of Azriel's heart, its rhythm slightly too hurried for an Illyrian warrior on a leisurely flight. But Y/n kept her thoughts to herself, knowing that her heart was perhaps skipping as well.

Upon reaching the bustling heart of the town, Azriel gently descended, allowing Y/n to stand on her own. His arms reluctantly released her, a sense of loss washing over him as the warmth of her presence receded.

"Thanks for the ride, Azriel," her gratitude lit up her features with a warm smile.

"It was my pleasure," he managed to reply, his voice steadier than his racing heart.

Seizing the moment before doubt could diminish his resolve, he found himself suggesting, "If you'd like, I could show you around as well... around Velaris and its newer sights, after you're done with your errands, of course."

Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the town's lively expanse before settling back on him. "I'd like that," she agreed, a softness in her voice that coaxed a hopeful glimmer in Azriel's eyes.

"It's been so long since I've seen Velaris, I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”

As she stepped away, Azriel realized then, with startling clarity, that he had no actual business in the town. Yet, the prospect of spending more time with Y/n, of reintroducing her home seemed like the most significant task of all.

He should use this period to plan. To think about the places in Velaris that would spark interest in her eyes, the hidden corners and new developments he'd watched over from the shadows. It wasn't just about filling the time; it was about crafting moments that might bridge the gap between them.

As he lingered in thought, Azriel's attention was momentarily drawn to his shadows, which had, unbeknownst to him, begun to reach out towards Y/n's departing figure, specifically curling towards her left arm. With a subtle command, he reeled them back, a silent acknowledgment of her right to privacy. Despite his longing for closeness, he respected the boundaries between them, even those unseen.

Y/n was ashamed to admit it, but she double-checked every reflection she saw, cautious of any lurking shadows. The idea of anyone, particularly Azriel, tracing her steps to this particular location filled her with unease. Besides, she was embarrassed at the several missed turns it took before she finally arrived at her destination. Velaris had indeed changed; the streets still boasted their characteristic cobblestone pathways and white marble houses with green roofs. Yet, the atmosphere was distinctly different—teeming with fae from all corners of Prythian. It was a strange notion, to feel like a stranger in the land she had once called her home.

This sandstone building, however, was unchanged, just as she remembered it from all those years ago, tucked away in a nondescript corner. The walls were still lined with shelves that reached up to the high ceilings, each crammed with jars and bottles of varying shapes and sizes, filled with mixtures of different herbs. In the center of the room, cozy couches were draped with handwoven throws inviting patrons to sit and bask in the tranquility of the space. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light, already comforting her tense nerves. 

“Just a moment!” she heard stepping in, before being greeted by a High Fae woman with dark skin, spindrift hair now touched with grey, and brown eyes that still sparkled with an inner warmth, despite the new wrinkles framing them.

The shock of recognition was mutual. “Y/n?” the woman exclaimed.

“Madja! It’s been too long,” Y/n said, moving in for a hug.

They embraced warmly before Madja pulled back, eyeing her with a mix of suspicion and affection. “It’s never been good when you’ve entered this store,” she remarked, an eyebrow arched in playful admonition.

Y/n laughed, the sound mingling with a sense of nostalgia. “Rhys and I weren't that bad, were we?” she quipped, attempting to deflect.

“Oh no,” Madja shot back with a smile, “You both were absolutely terrible.” Her tone softened, betraying the fondness behind her words.

Memories of past injuries, ranging from the ridiculous outcomes of foolish dares to the more serious wounds acquired during brutal training sessions, flashed through Y/n’s mind. She nodded, conceding the point. “But you were always there for us,” she said, gratitude lacing her voice.

"Yes, always there—mostly wondering which of you would walk in next, and whether I'd need a broom or a stretcher."

Then Madja’s expression turned more serious. “How can I help you today, Y/n?”

Fidgeting, Y/n glanced around the shop before responding. “I’m just here to look at some herbs...” Her voice trailed off, unconvincing even to her own ears.

Madja’s gaze narrowed slightly, but not unkindly. “Planning to brew your own tonic, are we?” she teased before adding, “If you need something for sleep or pain, I can prepare it for you. Discreetly, of course.”

Caught off guard, Y/n hesitated, then muttered something about merely experimenting in her free time. However, to divert Madja’s prying eyes, she offered a truth and quickly agreed to the offer of a sleep tonic. “Yes, that...my insomnia has been relentless lately.”

Madja nodded, her expression softening into one of understanding. “I’ll prepare something for you. No one needs to know,” she assured. 

While Madja busied herself, Y/n’s gaze wandered across the shelves, laden with jars of herbs, vials of potions, and artifacts of healing and magic, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She’d never admit it out loud, but her alchemy and potions for healing weren’t particularly up to par. For poison, well she already clocked 5 different ones she could create from the herbs she’d be able to identify thus far.

But for healing, and particularly for a wound that she’d not thought twice about before, with her magic and fae heritage naturally taking care of it; she realized then that she should have made a stop at a bookstore or visited the library this morning. 

By the time she had gathered the herbs she hoped would do, Madja returned, handing Y/n a small, unmarked vial. 

“Take two drops before bed,” she instructed, her voice low. “And Y/n,” she added, her eyes meeting the sorceress's, “whatever you’re facing, remember you’re not alone. Velaris isn’t just a city; it’s home.

Y/n’s heart clenched at the sincerity in Madja’s words. “Thank you, Madja,” she said, her voice thick with gratitude. She paid for the tonic and her bundle, seeing Madja’s impartial glance as a sign that she hadn’t chosen anything too offputting.  

Stepping out of the shop, Y/n took a deep breath, the air of Velaris filling her lungs, mingling with the scents of the river and the blooming night flowers. The city might have changed, but its essence, the heart of it, remained the same—a haven for the lost, the brave, and those in need of healing.

As the agreed time approached, Azriel's gaze was constantly drawn towards the path Y/n would emerge from. The anticipation had woven a tapestry of nerves and excitement within him, a feeling unfamiliar yet thrilling. His shadows, ever-present companions, danced around him with an energy that mirrored his own. When they alerted him to her presence, a wave of something akin to relief washed over him. 

She was making her way towards him, her steps confident, yet he noticed something different—a bag clutched in her hand, an addition to her ensemble.

Curiosity piqued, Azriel couldn't help but ask about the bag as soon as greetings were exchanged. "What's in the bag? If you don't mind me asking," he inquired, his tone light, trying to mask the depth of his curiosity and concern.

Y/n glanced down at the bag, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, just some cosmetics," she joked, her voice laced with humor. "I felt my complexion still looks very pallid. Thought I might need a touch-up if I continue to stay in the illustrious night court."

Azriel, taken aback by her answer yet finding it endearing, responded without hesitation, his voice sincere. "You look beautiful, Y/n. You don't need anything more for that."

The moment the words left his mouth, a warm flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks, mirroring the blush that bloomed on Y/n's face. Azriel couldn’t help but feel pleased with her reaction, though he tried to ignore how he longed to see where else that rosy hue would appear. 

Seeking to recover from the moment, Azriel cleared his throat softly, gesturing towards the city. "Shall we begin our tour? Velaris has much to offer, and I'd like to show you everything I've planned."

Y/n nodded, her smile bright, the earlier blush still present but accompanied now by a look of genuine happiness. "I'd love that, Azriel. Lead the way."

As they ventured into the heart of Velaris, Azriel found himself sharing stories and lore of the city, each tale carefully chosen to entertain or spark curiosity in Y/n. He noticed how her eyes lit up with each new sight, her laughter more melodious to his ears than any music. It was as if, with her by his side, Velaris transformed into an even more magical place, its beauty magnified through her presence.

“It’s said that this fountain,” Azriel gestured to an ornate structure, water dancing under the sun’s fading glow, “was built by a high lord as a tribute to his mate’s beauty, which he believed surpassed even that of the Night Court’s stars.”

Y/n’s laughter, light and infectious, filled the air. “A high bar for beauty,” she remarked, her gaze lingering on the play of light over water. “Do you think such comparisons are fair, comparing someone to the stars?”

Azriel found himself caught in the depth of her gaze, her curiosity igniting his own. “Perhaps not fair, but it speaks to the beholder's awe. Don’t we all aspire to find a love like that, where the connection is so intense, that it could rival the stars?

But just as their souls seemed on the verge of whispering secrets only the heart could hear, the boisterous cry of a vendor shattered the stillness.

"Delicacies of the night! Taste the wonders of Velaris!" His voice, loud and full of life, tore through the tender veil of connection they had cocooned themselves within.

In an instant, the world rushed back in—a flood of sounds and lights, washing away the moment of intense closeness they had found. They were left adrift, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of the night market, the poignant ache of a moment lost too soon lingering in the air between them.

The day gave way to evening almost without notice, hours spent in exploration and shared discovery. 

Azriel led her through the vibrant heart of Velaris, showcasing the city's architectural marvels—the four Palaces. They spent the most time at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, a bustling market square alive with the hum of creative energy. Here, amidst stalls adorned with fabrics that whispered tales of distant lands and jewelry that sparkled with the promise of untold stories, Y/n came alive in a way Azriel hadn't seen before.

He watched, fascinated, as she engaged with the vendors, her knowledge of gems and textiles flowing effortlessly, her eyes lighting up with each piece she examined. Her hands, graceful and assured, would trace the lines of cloth, her touch eliciting stories from silk and satin alike.

In one of those quiet moments, shared over a stall draped in velvets and brocades, Y/n turned to Azriel, a softness in her eyes. "When I was much younger," she confessed, "I dreamt of being a fashion designer. I wanted to create clothes that weren't just worn but experienced—garments that would steal the breath from those who beheld them."

Azriel's gaze softened as he listened, the ambient noises of the marketplace fading into the background. "That's a beautiful dream," he responded, his voice low and thoughtful. "The clothes we wear can speak volumes, tell stories, and even protect us. Your designs could have done all that and more, I believe."

She laughed, a sound that mingled with the evening air, rich and full of possibilities. "Maybe in another life, Azriel. For now, I'm content with my path, though it's nice to dream a little."

As they continued to explore the stalls, Azriel couldn't help but see the market—and Y/n—in a new light. Every thread, every jewel, seemed to hold a piece of the dream she had shared with him. And in that moment, he made a silent vow to himself to support her dreams, in whatever form they might take, hoping that they could come true with him at her side. 

As the gallery’s doors closed behind them, Azriel realized the day had slipped away into the evening, the sky a canvas of deep blues and purples. “You must be hungry after our day,” he said, the thought striking him with sudden concern. “Would you join me for dinner?”

The smile Y/n offered in response, wide and genuine, set his heart racing. “I’d love to, Azriel. Thank you.”

Choosing a quaint restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate ambiance, Azriel had such joy when she accepted his invitation. However, as they approached the entrance, he reached out to gently guide her by the arm, a gesture meant to be polite. To his surprise, she recoiled—a flash of discomfort shadowing her features.

Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had overstepped, his mind replaying the moment she flinched. Despite the array of dishes that graced their table, she barely touched her food, her usual spark dimmed to a quiet reserve.

“Y/n, if I did something earlier to upset you, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention,” he ventured, hoping to bridge the silence that had settled between them.

Y/n shook her head, offering a small smile. “No, Azriel, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just not very hungry tonight, that’s all.”

Despite her reassurance, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a gnawing insecurity for the rest of the evening, wondering what unseen barriers still lay between them. The night that had started with laughter and shared secrets now seemed cloaked in a quiet tension, and Azriel found himself wishing for the ability to read her thoughts, to understand her silence.

As they stepped out of the restaurant into the velvet night, the streets of Velaris were bathed in the soft glow of starlight and lamplights, casting ethereal shadows around them. Azriel, still filled with guilt from the earlier incident, searched for words to lighten the mood and make amends. He longed to suggest they fly back, to offer her the breathtaking views of Velaris by night from the sanctuary of his arms. Yet, the memory of her recoiling from his touch echoed loudly in his mind, a reminder of the boundaries he feared to overstep again.

With a heavy heart, he proposed instead to winnow them back, a quicker, less intimate mode of travel. "We can winnow back, but it's a bit of a drop—we'll land on the balcony. I'll need to hold you for just a moment to manage the descent," he explained, trying to mask his disappointment.

Y/n, fiddling with her bag, offered a small nod, her voice quiet.

"That's fine. I'll just hold onto your arm. I should be okay with the drop," she replied, the simplicity of the arrangement failing to hide the distance it imposed.

As they landed with soft thuds on the balcony, Azriel couldn't help but notice how the moonlight painted Y/n's features, highlighting her beauty yet highlighting her pallor. She thanked him, her voice a whisper against the night, as she turned to leave. The urge to reach out, to bridge the space between them with a touch, surged within him, but he halted, his fingers hovering mere breaths away from her shoulder. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier," he found himself saying again, the words heavy with unspoken feelings.

Y/n shook her head, a gesture of dismissal or perhaps forgiveness, Azriel couldn't tell. "I'm just tired, that's all. The day finally caught up to me," she offered, her voice carrying a fatigue that went beyond the physical.

The silence that followed was filled with things unsaid, with Azriel's silent plea for understanding and Y/n's unspoken reassurances. When he hesitantly asked if she was still alright with him assisting her with her research, she nodded, her agreement to meet at the library the next day offering a glimmer of hope, a possibility of redemption.

As she retreated into the night, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts on the balcony, he watched her go with a sense of loss.

A/N: Hi eveyone!! So I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter. Tbh I had a lot of writer's block and I wasn't really sure where I wanted Y/n and azriel to go during these chapters. But I do LOVE a blushing Az!!!

I have plans for future chapters and I really want to add in some more snippets about Y/n and Rhys as children and teenagers, messing and playing around with each other. Let me know if you have any ideas you'd want to read!

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin @herondale-lightworm @5onedirection5 @namelesssav

[kiestrokes]

Day 1: Dior You | NSFW

▸Idol: Jung Hoseok of BTS ▸Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸Genre: WIP from the graveyard 😬, soft angst, smut. ▸Vibe: former lovers, Hoseok is an idol that is guest designing for Dior, reader is a model that was selected for the show in NYFW, this scene takes place after all of the buildup of the show and planning that happens before. ▸Warnings: cursing, sad feelings, their relationship did not end of happy terms, still very much love and care for each other.

Sexually Explicit Content: shower sex, relationship ended sadly, body appreciation.

🗝️ Note: ft. an old ass cover I made under my old pseud bc I wrote this back in November of 2022 😅 just a reminder this is a WIP, it is not close to the finished product this is actually the first draft of this scene!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

You fall into your hotel bed, exhausted and happy. The post-show adrenaline consumes your body, and you drift thoughtlessly into a sleep coma. 

A few hours later a knock at your door that jolts you out of your sleep, dragging yourself to it and tugging it open without so much as a glance into the peep hole you're surprised at who you find on the other side. Jung Hoseok stands before you, dressed down from his earlier outfit in thick gray sweats, and multiple coat layers. His eyes look wild, animallike, as he rights himself from his lean against the doorframe.

“Can I come in?”

You nod and he slips past you, his body brushing past yours with cracklings of chemistry. You swallow thickly as the sight of Hoseok sprawled with open knees in gray sweats on your unmade bed sends your braless nipples erect. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Hoseok barks a laugh.

“Well, you have spent the last week with me,” you offer sarcastically.

His eyes jump to yours, “can I stay?”

You nod, also drunk under the tension shared between the two of you.

His hands slide flat palms against the white sheets, you watch the movement thoughts running rampant over the sight of his vascular hands, before his attention is diverted back to yours, “have you showered?”

The shake of your head has Hoseok on his feet instantly, he is already peeling off his clothing to drape across the reading chair at the front of the suite before you can blink. 

“You overpacked right?” His eyes scan the room for your overflowing suitcase in the corner, not even needing your response. He just knows you that well. “Let’s have a shower then.” Hoseok’s fingers skim your chin as he slips past you headed to the bathroom, his limber body still hidden by the oversized t-shirt and sweats. 

Stealing your nerves, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you had been holding and begin tossing all of your clothing onto the chair with his.

The shower is already running full blast, fogging up the bathroom with bone warming and skin prickling clouds of steam. Hoseok turns as you step in, still wearing his clothing much to your disappointment. Although he is quickly forgiven, when you get an eyeful of his bulging erection straining against the gray cotton of his pants.

“Fuck,” the curse slips past you without warning to your brain.

“I could say the same,” Hoseok’s eyes hood as he takes you in, lingering on your womanhood, your pussy was always his favorite next to your face of course. “You’ve been teasing me all week with this body in your fittings.”

“Just like your touches and eyes have me,” you cock an accusatory eyebrow at him.

“Go ahead, I’ll join you in a second,” Hoseok smirks at your jab.

You step in a sigh into the stream of water, letting the wet pelts work the tenseness of your shoulders. You feel, rather than hear Hoseok step in with you, his hands wasting no time skimming across your hips to your stomach. Turning in his grasp your heart stutters as you watch his pupils pulsate before a delicate hand comes to grip your jaw and slant his mouth over yours.

Gets you off with the shower head and enters you to bring himself to climax with you. Removing the condom and nestling his softening erection between your legs as you clean each other. He tells you how much he’s missed you between kisses over your body and face. Tears slip out as you tell him that you still can’t be together.

He kisses you again, muttering an, “I know” against your lips.

You kiss him harder with this acceptance and he gasps into your mouth. Fingertips running down your spine and smiling softly at you as you pull away, tucking hair behind your ear.

“You were holding back.”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t know you understood everything now.” He smiles at your warmth and sadness in his eyes.

“I understood when you left, my heart just needed some time to catch up.”

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[dual1pa]

his shirt

warnings: smut-ish, boob grabbage, thigh touching, language, no use of y/n, all characters aged up to 20

18+ ONLY Y’ALL

enjoyyy

(this one is short and sweet)

his shirt clung to your body as you tapped the tip of your pencil on your notebook filled with scribbled biology notes that even you could barely read — but your awful handwriting got you through high school and it could most likely get you through college as well. 

“HELLFIRE CLUB” was written on the front of his baseball tee. He, Eddie, your boyfriend, designed the logo himself for his old Dungeons & Dragons club in high school. Of course, he gave you your own version, but when you wore his — it was much better. It was a bit oversized and smelled like him. You wouldn't be surprised if it was still dirty from the previous time he wore it.

For college, you decided to stay near Hawkins. It was your home and you weren’t ready to concour the great big world just yet. 

When the professor let the class go for the day, you walked quickly outside, the warm spring air hit you as you opened the door. Right on time, you saw Eddie’s familiar car. He had all the windows down blasting some Metallica song — since that’s his favorite band in the history of music. 

Once he spotted you walking to your car, he noticed the shirt. 

“Why hello pretty lady — nice shirt!” he responded, tipping his sunglasses down to his nose to get a good look at you. 

“Thanks — it’s yours,” you quickly threw your backpack in the back and gave a kiss to Eddie’s lips. 

“I can tell, there’s a pink spot on the side that just won’t come out when I wash it. I love it when you where my clothes, feel free to wear them anytime you want.” 

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you, I’ll steal everything.” 

As he drove out of the college parking lot, his hand went straight to your thigh as your hair blew from the open window. 

His hand snuck in under your jean shorts — which he knows turns you on the most. 

Just then, an idea popped into your head. 

“I love wearing your shirts, it means that your skin is now touching my skin in a sense.” 

“Mhmmm,” he agreed. 

You turned to his direction and lifted up your shirt, “I decided to go braless today.” 

“Jesus Christ sweetheart! Do you want me to crash this van?” 

You shook your head, “No. I’m just teasing you and don’t deny that you don’t like it.”

You grabbed his hand, still on your leg, and bought it up under your shirt so he could feel your breast. 

He gently squeezed your flesh, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“Just wait till we get home.” 

[in-amor-veritas]

I keep saying this but chapter 5 is so close to being ready to upload. These past two weeks have been awful lol and I have had 0 time to finalize it so as an apology have another spoiler if you’d like ✨✨

Wilhelm is talking to a designer from Denmark who has come over to talk about the ARC collection, when Ebba comes over a cocktail in her hands and a curious expression on her face.

“Wille can I steal you for a moment?” She asks, sending the other man an apologetic smile.

When they step away she beckons him to lean in so he can hear better.

“Did you invite Simon? He’s here. He recognized me from the Showroom I think because he asked where you were.”

Eyes widening, he looks up already searching the room, “Yeah I did—thanks for letting me know.”

Ebba��s eyes drift to his neck, he knows the marks are covered up by the high collar of the top he’s wearing but he still flushes because he knows that she’s already put it together.

“Sure.” She pats his arm and gestures toward the blonde man Wille had been speaking with, “Go find him. I’ll stay here with Søren.”

“Thanks” he says gratefully and slips away through the crowd to where she had pointed to.

Twisting his way through, he’s searching, eyes scanning over the crowd. After several minutes he still hasn’t seen any sign of him and anxiously he looks toward the bar, restless and feeling a bubbling sense of excitement building under his skin.

After another moment of looking unsuccessfully he’s about to pull out his phone and shoot him a text when he feels a hand on his arm and hears a familiar voice in his ear.

“Wille.”

Turning he meets Simon’s gaze from behind him. He feels his breath catch slightly in his chest as he takes in the lights caught in his pretty curls, the way they reflect over his features.

“Simon hi.” He says, excited, nervous, full of a kind of buzzing under his skin.

“Hey.” Simon replies, lips pulling into a bright and inviting smile.

He actually came. He’s here.

[essycogany]

Hot Take! Nine’s Redemption Arc Was Rushed

I’m usually positive on this blog, but I believe it’s important to have a balance. This’ll be my longest post yet, so buckle your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Quick Positive Points

I like the idea of an antagonistic Tails. Nine’s amazingly voiced by a VA I recognize. His design is awesome. His attitude and sarcasm can be entertaining. Nine saving Sonic’s skin when dealing with the Chaos Council was nice. The scene with Nine and Mr.Doctor Eggman talking about Sonic is one of my favorite moments. The thought of creating robots who look like the other characters as if Nine still wanted friends was neat. (even if he tried to kill with them) And despite my grievances, I thought Nine’s hug with Sonic at the end was adorable. The animation is what helped with that.

Introduction

While I do like Nine, I’m going to talk about my glaring issues with his character development. I can see both sides of the argument, but let me tell you why there’s more proof of Nine not being well written. I will implore you to think for yourselves regardless of what I have to say. We all have our opinions and I’m only here to share mine.

Nine’s Characterization

This is how the fox carry himself throughout the show and why most of it isn’t written well. I’ll state my issues with Sonic in certain moments too.

Season One

Nine’s reasonably defensive at first when Sonic came to his home out of nowhere. He became annoyed by Sonic’s immaturity yet concerned for him once they’re captured. After they meet the Rebels, his sassiness begins to show. Replying “You’re welcome,” after saving Sonic by taking control of Rusty. Having a direct and harsh tone when advising others to take the Chaos Council’s shard. And not seeming to care about the rest of the group who gets trapped with Mr. Doctor Eggman.

Nine: “Sonic we have to get to the core!” “You heard her come on!” This I understand because Nine doesn’t know them, so they don’t really matter to him. But then Nine dismisses Sonic’s feelings even after he asked “are you okay?” Because he noticed the hedgehog was a little off.

-Because Sonic started remembering the events that happened to him before he broke the Paradox Prism.

After Sonic realized the prism shattering was his fault Nine says, “Snap back to reality! Grab that shard and we’ll sort the rest out later!” Then when Sonic stated the original Tails told him not to touch it Nine states, “Well, I’m telling you the opposite! Now grab it and let’s go!” Not realizing if Sonic is the reason for the prism being small, his original variant might’ve known touching it was a bad idea. I also can’t forget about these lines.

Sonic: “If there’s anyone who’s got the brains to put it all back together, it’s you.” Nine: “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.” Nice ego for a person who ends up getting Sonic sucked up by the prism after being warned. Back to what I was saying before, Nine seems to only care about stealing the shard away from the Eggmen here. Which is proven later on in season one. His care for Sonic has progressed, but Sonic learns from the Rebels that Nine abandoned them. And it’s never addressed by Sonic.

-Sonic also insist Nine’s “not a traitor” without any proof. Sonic hasn’t known Nine that long. The last time Sonic saw the fox, he ended up getting the hedgehog sucked into another shatterspace. Unless Sonic’s talking about Nine working with the group. But I’d argue it was more for Sonic and his own sake. Especially since Nine left the Rebels and Rusty at the drop of a hat.

When Nine comes to help Sonic, he shows off the Grim and discuss how it’s “Their bright new future.” Wanting to live in the Grim with Sonic. Even after the last time he saw Sonic, Nine knew how distraught Sonic felt about losing his home. Again, Sonic stated he believed Nine could put the prism back together. Meaning his original friends and world would come back. But Nine immediately assumes Sonic would be happy living with him for the rest of his life. Which is sweet on paper but very messed up in execution. I’ll get into why later. To be fair, Nine’s never had a friend before and was bullied for most of his life. His social skills aren’t the best and he isn’t use to caring about others. But even if Nine didn’t understand empathy, he has no reason to believe Sonic would forget about his home just because Nine didn’t care about his.

Nine: “That city hasn’t brought me anything but misery. I owe it nothing.” He hasn’t been around Sonic for long either, but Sonic’s demonstrated his loyalty before. By worrying about the Rebels instead of the shard while Nine did vise versa. Anyways, Sonic explains he needs to save the Rebels. Nine being Nine didn’t care about them, but came to help anyways because he “cared about Sonic.” I’d say Nine only helped because he thought Sonic would join him after getting the other shards, but that’s my opinion.

Nine: “With enough fortifications and enough shard energy, this could be home.” Because of this line, I believe he already knew about the other shards before Sonic. Which is also why he knew what Sonic was doing in season two. He also says, “When this is over, I’m going home and never looking back. Whether I go it alone is entirely up to you.” Still assuming things.

-Sonic doesn’t give Nine an answer for some reason. Only responding with “I knew you’d come back, buddy.” Projecting how he’d expect Tails to act. Which becomes a serious problem later.

Season Two

Throughout this season, Nine helped Sonic collect the shards. Which was a bonus to keep developing the Grim.

-Sonic and the Rebels have another debate on trusting Nine. At least this time when Sonic says “He saved you,” it’s true. Nine took down the Doctors before Sonic and co got killed. I’d still argue it was for Sonic, but Nine still saved their lives despite his intentions.

I’ll also admit when Mr.Doc used Nine, it was reasonable for him to feel as if he had no choice. He even apologizes to Sonic. We even learn how Nine first fount the Grim and see him make a hammock for Sonic. But the positives goes down hill once we get into the shard chase between Nine, Sonic, and the villains. Once away from the Docs Sonic stated, “Oh, things are finally coming together. We’ve got the shards! We can finally fix everything!” He’s still obviously talking about Green Hill and his friends. But Nine doesn’t notice this. Instead he says, “It’s going to be perfect.” Very specific you two. Nine seems to suddenly believe Sonic changed his mind and Sonic still thinks Nine and Tails are one and the same.

Dude even calls the fox “Tails Nine,” while introducing him to another character. What are the odds? Later on Nine says, “If you like surprises, wait until you see what I’ve got going on in the Grim.” Sonic responds with, “Grim? Cool. Can’t wait to here more. But right now, we’ve gotta get to Ghost Hill.” Talking as if if the Grim was an afterthought. Then the two talk about bringing the prism back together without knowing what the other’s thoughts were behind it.

Even if they didn’t have time to discuss things, I think they should’ve explained something to each other during the chase or before Sonic left to help the Rebels in S1. That way the unfortunate occurrence could’ve been avoided later on, but we’ll cross that bridge soon enough. Anyways, after the goose chase, they meet up with Shadow, who reasonably doesn’t trust Nine.

-The Blue blur defended the fox again with his projecting his friends onto strangers self. It’s also weird how often this dude doesn’t listen to anyone while also wondering why no one won’t listen to him.

After Nine put one of the shards back together and it brought everything back for a split second. Sonic: “Reality was flipping out over here.” “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Which must’ve went in and out of Nine’s ears because this show has no time for the characters to communicate properly. Instead of listening, Nine interrupts the hedgehog and shenanigans ensues.

After said shenanigans, another argument scene happens. Except somehow, it’s worsts then the last. I’ll criticize both characters. I want to address the “Sonic projecting” discussion first. I know people think Sonic’s wrong for doing it (he is) but I believe he’s doing it as a coping mechanism. Since his friends are replaced by ghost who repeat themselves and a bunch strangers who look like them, he might not be able to help it. I give him a bit of slack because we all know what he’s been through. Prime!Sonic is also a very sincere version of Sonic who instantly feels guilt. Even if he doesn’t completely understand what he did wrong.

For example, in the first episode, Tails didn’t tell Sonic why he was upset with him. He just said, “It’s cool really.” Tails brushes things off instead of discussing them. I can see where Sonic is coming from. What I won’t excuse is Sonic having a terrible amount of trust in Nine. I’ll discuss this in S3’s issues. And the rest I’ll summon up to Sonic never addressing problems which might’ve needed to be addressed. Like Green Hill almost coming back and other stuff I’ve already mentioned. Onto the fox. This argument might be a great time for Nine to explain what his plans are instead of saying, “We’re not making your old world. We’re building a better one.” Implying Sonic’s original world is inferior and he should deal with it being gone.

When Sonic says, “I think we can get it back.” Nine responds with, “You’re wrong about that.” Despite Sonic in the same episode said minutes before, “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Did the fox forget? Is he lying? Or does he not care? I’ll go with the writers forgetting about this line since it never gets mentioned again. Which seems to be a trope in this show. I understand Sonic’s done plenty of wrong when it comes to Nine as well, but I don’t see how Sonic wanting to fix the problem he made in the first place as selfish. Especially since Sonic’s not the only one who wants Green Hill back. Shadow’s dealing with the consequences too.

The “what’ll happen to me when you bring your friends back,” issue is never explored. There’s no confirmation on what happens, so this comment basically means nothing. Also, Sonic living with Nine forever is messed up. It implies Sonic and Shadow never going home. And their friends would stay ghost forever. Dead to be specific. Not to mention Nine’s home would be a copy of what Sonic use to have. You’re telling me Sonic The Hedgehog would allow his freedom to end because of a self centered fox who wouldn’t care if he wanted to go home? I could continue, but I’ll stop here. In the end, Sonic and Nine were both wrong. You could argue Sonic never said “no” to staying with Nine, but Sonic saying in S1 “It’s not going anywhere” was all Nine needed to hear. Sonic thinking Nine would love Tails and discussing Green Hill was prominent when talking to Nine before getting to Ghost Hill too. Dude was completely set on getting home and he wasn’t subtle about it.

To be fair again, Nine hasn’t been in enough good relationships to know who to trust. Then finds someone he thinks he can trust. Then gets treated like a reflection of someone else instead of a different person entirely. This goes to show I actually don’t hate the idea of the miscommunication. I only feel the show doesn’t give them enough time to breathe and only focuses on rushing the plot. Therefore having contradictions and forced conflicts.

Season 3

Nine’s first statement in this season is, “This could’ve been everything he ever wanted.” I wish Sonic had a moment to explain why creating a new world is a nice but bad idea. That way Nine could get a better understanding of how close Sonic is to his home and friends. Giving it a sense of importance. He could choose to stay selfish or to be reasonable. Nine tries to capture Sonic in order to get his shard energy throughout S3. In the next scene Shadow says, “So, it was all about power?” (Shadow is the MVP of this entire show) Then Sonic defends Nine for the millionth time.

Sonic: “No, that’s not…” Nine: “Exactly!” Wonderful.

Moving on. Sonic tries to reason with Nine again. Nine: “You were only using me to get what you wanted.” Sonic: “That’s not true.” The hedgehog doesn’t elaborate before or after this conversation. I love how the two barely have a coherent conversation. It’s honestly my favorite thing in the world.

-Sonic tells Shadow if reasoning with Nine doesn’t work, he’ll be “theirs .” Probably implying they’ll have to hurt or kill Nine if necessary. Then Sonic never follows through with it and doesn’t actually fight Nine. Sonic only uses his shield powers or tries to convince others not to hurt the fox.

After that Nine tries to attack both hedgehogs with a robot copy of Sonic and states, “This time, you’re on your own.” Shadow: “He’s not on his own” Nine: “We’re all on our own.” Describing his perception on loyalty is a detail I actually like.

Later in the season Nine tries to disrupt the bystanders worlds to get Sonic, so they disrupt their agreement. Nine attempts to kill them again and wonders why they wanted to protect Sonic. Almost as if Sonic has been helping them since the fox met him or something.

After constant fighting and begging on Sonic’s part, he tells Nine to, “LOOK OUTSIDE!” And that’s when Nine at last sees the shatterverse breaking and realizes what he’s done. All of this mess lasted 7 episodes by the way. The big fight took up 6 of them. Nine knew beforehand the shatterverse was ending and it didn’t phase him as long as his world was safe. Now he suddenly he feels guilty?

Sonic apologizes because he didn’t listen to what Nine wanted. Or appreciate what he was trying to do. This is Sonic’s words not mine. Nine doesn’t apologize for trying to kill everyone, but to Sonic instead. Sonic asked everyone to leave Nine alone. And asked Nine to not cause anymore trouble. Knucks: “How can we trust him?” Nine: “You can trust me.” Outstanding dialogue. Plot needs to occur, so we’ll skip the part where Nine and everyone else gains trust in a none forced way. Great.

Nine finally helps Sonic even if those problems could’ve been avoided a few episodes earlier and say their goodbyes. The End.

I hate how Sonic had to apologize to Nine about wanting to go home. It’s absolutely unfair. Then Nine doesn’t apologize to everyone else for the havoc he’s caused. What I believe Sonic should’ve apologized for was treating Nine like Tails, but it never gets brought up. But my biggest issue is the only way Sonic called out Nine on his actions was by saying, “This isn’t you!” “Don’t do this!” “I care about all of this. You, the shatterverse, and everyone inside of it. I know you do too.” The last bit being a huge lie.

I don’t make these kind of comparisons often, but Game!Sonic would have everything nipped in the bud. I’d assume by telling Nine, “What you’re doing is wrong. This is why it’s wrong. If you don’t quit, I’ll do everything in my power to make you quit.” He’d understand Nine needed to be stoped and act accordingly. I’d assume everyone would have to make him surrender and he’d be forced to fix everything. No, it doesn’t reform him, but I wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t get reformed because sometimes you can’t change people. This might not have been the perfect solution, but I tried. Yes, Nine is a child who was treated terribly, but it shouldn’t excuse his actions.

What’s hilarious is during his last talk with Sonic, he unreasonably guilts the hedgehog and called him selfish. Saying Sonic didn’t save everyone because he actually cared about them. But because Sonic feels guilty about breaking everything from the start. Except Sonic actually admits to messing up which was shown in the third episode of Prime. And took the time to right his wrongs. It’s the most hypocritical and short sided statement in the entire show. And if that wasn’t enough, Nine gets upset when everyone came to attack him. It admittedly was a dumb idea, but Nine made himself the enemy. He didn’t give the gang a reason to trust him before or after his deal with Sonic. Yes, including the end of the show. It made no sense.

Why Nine’s Reformation Was Rushed

First of all, I’m not saying I don’t like Nine because of his negative traits. That’s the main reason he exists. He’s a antagonistic or I’d even say evil version of Tails. Nine is suppose to be distant, selfish, and such. I simply don’t believe after all he’s done and how his character was established that he suddenly changed into a good guy.

Nine’s focus was on his own pain while he ignored everyone else’s. Including the one person who saved his life on multiple occasions and who (even if it’s wrong) still tried to stick up for him. Giving off the, “I suffered so everyone else should suffer,” mentality. Then blames Sonic by saying he, “Put him into this position.” As if Nine didn’t already make terrible choices before going evil. Sure, the shards could’ve been corrupting him, but it’s never explored and can only be assumed. Which are too different things.

-Also other characters like Thorn and Dread made bad decisions before they had the shards. So, there’s zero proof regarding that theory.

These are obvious toxic/red flag behavior and it never gets properly called out. Things are only fixed because the plot demanded it. Not because there was a natural progression. The only thing that progressed was Nine’s uncaring attitude until it magically fixed itself…at the last minute. And I hate that for him because he deserved better. Sonic deserved better. All of the Sonic Prime characters deserved better. But they all fell into the pit of unsatisfying conclusions.

Side Note: What also bothers me is how Sonic is almost the only character Nine interacts with. No wonder he doesn’t care about anyone else. Nine barely talks to anyone. Like Shadow, the blue blur is the main center of Nine’s attention. At least most of the other characters don’t have the same problem, but it’s still ridiculous.

How The Show Is Flawed In General

I have more glaring issues with this show. Sonic Prime’s plot almost never stops to breathe. The repetition is unreal. None of the characters (especially the OGs) get enough attention. Some things are both over and under explained simultaneously. There’s reused animations.

Reused conversations and dialogue are especially prevalent. “This isn’t you, Nine!” “It’s over, Nine.” “Gotta go fast!” “Game over.” “We’re gonna end/fix this together.” “We’re friends.” “Me Beauty.” “We have to take the fight to them.” “You’re even dumber then you look.”

This isn’t half of the repeated lines unfortunately. Some of them aren’t only said by Sonic either. It’s almost as if they ran out of dialogue. I am only scratching the surface of problems, but I won’t go any further. At this point “the show’s writing” is the main issue of Nine’s arc. It’s also why other parts of Prime feels rushed.

Conclusion

Yeah, I have a love hate relationship with this show. It’s seriously hard to watch sometimes. I know this has been a bummer, but here’s what Sonic Prime does right. I adore Sonic Prime in terms of how it looks and sounds. With the outstanding animation, voice acting, music, editing, and sound design. I’ll even say it’s one of the best looking 3D animated kids TV shows I’ve seen. There’s so much attention to detail and quality of the character facial expressions and movements. Furthermore, when the lighting is really good, it looks near movie levels of quality. Not to mention great writing still exists. All in all, Sonic Prime may not be the best written Sonic show, but it does have the most polished animation. Even with its plethora of flaws and lost potential, I’m glad Prime exists to prove 3D TV shows can look fantastic when given enough care.

Stay Creative! 💜

[an0nymousmessenger]

For I'll Keep Every Promise

Synopsis: He wakes up. Word Count: 2.4k tags. fluff, angst, happy ending Sequel to 'A Thousand Wishes Unheard' note: I was going to post this later but I think you guys need it. Ao3 Link

Darkness. That was all he could see. He felt nothing– as if he was floating in a neverending void.

He was dead.

He had to be. He remembers the bitter taste of blood coating his mouth– the way he struggled and choked on the very thing that ran through his skin. He recalls the loud ringing in his ear, growing ever louder as his vision faded out.

Well, he supposed he tried his best. Really. He gave it his all.

It just wasn’t enough.

What remained of his heart ached. He supposed he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to you. He hopes you won’t blame him…he had held on till the very end.

Death wasn’t so bad. Before he went he was able to see his students, laughing and smiling, he even got to hold you close before he had left. Not to mention he even saw his friends again, and he had gotten to say goodbye. 

He had no regrets.

Well…he supposes there is still one that lodges itself in the back of his mind.

It was you.

He had never gotten the chance to…

“Satoru,”

He turned his head to look at you, who was savoring your lollipop as you leaned back on the balcony.

Lemon flavored. The very sour kind.

He had a snide suspicion that it was to keep him away from stealing it…

“Satoruu~” you repeated, drawing his attention again.

“Hm?”

You flash him a smile, the kind of smile that lets him know that you are about to either stir up trouble or say something random.

It was the latter.

“What do you want to do when you're older?”

He snorts, “What kind of question is that? Of course– a sorcerer.” He wanted to add ‘what else?’ but decided it was obvious enough. Adding the last part would also ruin his good mood. His path has already been pre-designed and pre-routed for him. He has no other choice.

“No, what I mean is if all this didn’t exist.”

“Aw~ are you saying you would rather not have met me?” He sings out in a fake-pained voice, knowing that it was not what you meant.

You roll your eyes, having been used to his antics for a few years now, “Perhaps,” you say with a playful smile, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be better off.”

“Nah, I doubt it.”

You sigh before turning to face him. You widen your eyes when you notice he is already looking at you, but quickly move on, but Satoru doesn’t let the red creeping up on the tip of your ears go unnoticed. “I’m saying if you didn’t have cursed energy and stuff…like normal people, you know?”

He wanted to laugh and point out that it sounded like you were indicating that people like you and him were the odd ones, but he decided to let it slide.

“I dunno, maybe I’ll start a singing career, something like that.”

“Pfft, so what? That you’ll get even more admirers and fans?”

“Exactly! What? Don’t you agree? My face is pleasant to look at.”

Scoffing, you say, “One of these days I’ll make sure to crush that ego of yours.”

He rolls his eyes before looking back out at the school grounds, watching the sun slowly set behind the forest of trees. Although he had said the first thing that came from the top of his mind, he supposed singing wouldn’t be that far reached. 

After all, he excelled at everything. 

"How about you?" he asks. "Do you have something in mind already?" 

Observing the setting sun, you reply, "Mhm, yeah. Something like that." 

"Really?" He sounds surprised, not realizing how seriously you were considering it. "What is it?" 

Hesitating, you eventually respond, "It's... nothing." 

His interest is immediately piqued. 

"Come on! What's your idea? Share it with me!" He playfully pesters you with a grin. 

"No!" 

"You can't tease me like that! I told you mine, didn't I?" He whines a bit more before eventually coaxing it out of you.

It was when he saw you sigh, watching as the tension left your shoulders that he knew he won.

“Fine, I’ll tell you then. But you can’t tell anyone else– okay?”

He makes a gesture of zipping his mouth and throwing the zipper away, his curiosity increasing. It always does when it comes to you.

“I want to be…” you wait a bit, as if for dramatic effect, “...an author.”

You turn to look at him after a moment’s silence before breaking out in laughter.

“Haha- what’s up with your face? Surprised?”

Indeed he was a bit surprised. An author? He had no clue. When it comes to you it seemed as if he's only ever scratched the surface. It made him want to know more, want to ask more.

He never does.

"An author," he echoes thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

He wanted to ask why, but you had already started talking.

“An author. I guess it’s because I want to write stories, I grew up reading them you know? Made me feel safe.”

A hint of melancholy graces your smile as your thoughts drift elsewhere; it's a different kind of smile than the one before–a sadder smile.

"Who knows? I'm sure being a sorcerer has provided ample material for incredible stories. I'll be entirely unique. Maybe I'll even include tales about overcoming curses and how people like us save the day."

"Why not add in a ridiculously handsome guy who defeats all the curses with seamless ease too? Make sure 'remarkably attractive' is emphasized."

Laughing, you playfully smack his arm. "Okay, Satoru. I'll consider it."

He couldn’t help but break out into an amused smile. What an odd dream, he thought. Though he supposed he wasn’t against it.

Satoru Gojo excelled at everything, yet nothing he achieved seemed to measure up to you.

He felt his mind start to drift and fade away, threatening to join the other souls in their lost journey home. Wait…he called out. He didn’t want to go just yet. He wanted more time, more time to replay his memories, to live in them just for a second longer.

“Satoru,”

He could hear your voice, calling him in that familiar and recognizable way that was only special to you.

“Satoru.”

He wished he could’ve told you how much he loved hearing you say his name, it rolls off your tongue so nicely. He was never one to care about names, it never mattered to someone like him. 

All he needed was Gojo – a name denoting his status, lineage, and power. His first name barely held any weight compared to his clan's. No one needed to know who Satoru was, no one ever did…so he couldn’t have cared less for his name- and yet you somehow made him love his name– only when you say it does it sound special– like it’s his name like he is someone.

Someone other than the honored one. Someone other than the strongest.

“Satoru!”

There were a lot of things he never got to tell you, another thing to add to his regrets. If only he had been brave enough…if only he had picked up his courage and told you everything.

“Satoru- please!”

He paused. Ah- what is that feeling? He could feel something wet fall onto his face. Was it raining? How could that be? How could he feel if he was dead?

And yet that warmth around his face only made him more confused. He could feel as if someone was holding them, cupping his face carefully as if he could break.

"Please wake up… Satoru, I beg you…"

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

The first thing he saw when his vision came back into focus was your face. Your crying face looking down at him with your hands cupping his face.

Then he looked around, realizing that the battlefield on which he had been sliced in half was gone. He was in a room, a hospital room.

He looked down and saw the rest of his body, no longer split into two. Had Shoko done this?

“Satoru!”

He returned his gaze to you. You were smiling, smiling, and crying.

Questions, so many questions flooded through him at that moment, but he decided that he could ask those later. Right now was more important, right now felt like it was all happening inside a dream.

“Hey…crybaby, seems like you you missed me?” He teased with a small grin.

You gave him a look through your tear-soaked face as if you couldn’t even believe what he was saying.

“Y-You! You bastard! You annoying– infuriating- stupid dumbass!”

“Aw, come on…” he drags, “You don’t mean those…do you hm?” Although the tone in his voice is light– playful even as if he hadn’t just returned from death, as if all he wanted right now was to live this moment to the fullest, he was dearly wishing this– whatever this was– to last a little longer.

He slowly brings his trembling arm to hold onto yours, he wanted to hold on to you tight, as if everything he was seeing was about to break, to fall apart for him to realize it was all a dream.

He waited for you to disappear, to return to the part of his imagination that was playing tricks on him.

Instead, you move sideways to hug him, crying onto his shoulders.

"No...no, I don't," you managed through choked sobs.

He hummed softly, "I guess I kept my promise after all, huh?"

You nod into his shoulder, still holding him tightly.

You and him fall into a comfortable silence, he lets you cry on his shoulders just as how you let him hold onto you. 

Several minutes passed before you pulled away, sniffling and attempting to compose yourself while wiping away tears with your sleeve.

Satoru wanted to reach out and wipe them for you, but his newly healed injuries did not allow him to, moving his hand had already been hard.

It went on like that for a while; you sniffling and crying as Satoru stared at you quietly, taking everything about you in as if this was the last time he was going to see you, just the same way he did on that night underneath the torii gate, using his eyes to try to imprint every detail, everything, every aspect of you into his memory.

That night felt like a lifetime away.

He was the first to break the silence, “Where are the others?”

By now you had calmed down, and were able to answer in a coherent way, “Recovering…everyone is- they’re fine.”

Fine. Not good, but fine.

He’ll take it for now.

“We managed to win and…” you give him a look, “you know…the students declared their victory for you,” You say with a smile.

His students. They managed to do it, just as he thought they could. He sighed contently.

You then spend the next half hour going over exactly what had happened after he had passed out, how Kashimo had come out right after him, and how eventually the rest of the students joined in.

In the end, they had managed to pull through, but it wasn’t over. Sukuna had been dealt with, Megumi’s condition was unknown, and Kenjaku was nowhere to be found.

Shoko had indeed been the one to heal him. Immediately after the battle they were able to recover his body and managed to heal him back together just in time.

“We- we almost- I didn’t know if we made it in time or not…” You say, choking up again. He could see the tears you were desperately trying to hold back, to look brave in front of him, trying to break through.

“Hey, I’m right here, aren’t I?” He beckons you to come closer.

He eventually holds you in his arms, drawing slow circles on your back, as he knows it calms you, “Shhh, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere else.”

You mutter, “Better not,” which causes him to laugh.

He wanted to let this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, just you and him.

“This…this is real– right?” He says quietly, and in such a small voice he doubted you had heard him.

You raise your head to look at him, the soft kind of smile he’s always known playing on your face, “Yes, Satoru. This is real, as real as it can be.”

He can feel himself start to tear up, because if he had to be honest- he was scared too, he was terrified, but he had no choice. He had to play his role, his role as the strongest.

But now he could just be Satoru, just him holding onto you, keeping you close. 

“Then I’m glad.”

Bonus:

“Gojo Sensei!” Yuji, the always energetic kid exclaimed as he ran into the room, followed by You, Maki, Yuta, Nobara, Panda, Inanumaki, Shoko, and everyone else.

They all had recovered for the most part and seemed to be relatively okay. They all wore relieved expressions as they entered the room to see that their Sensei was alright.

Yuji was the first to arrive at his Sensei’s bedside.

“Hey, kid!” Gojo Sensei waved. He had recovered enough to prop himself up and do basic movements, which to Shoko had been a miracle itself.

Yuji then began launching himself into the things that had happened while Gojo had been recovering, and Gojo returned the energy. Everyone got their turn, talking until visiting times were over and they had to be ushered out.

You were the last to leave. Just before you turned the doorknob Satoru called after you, “Hey- wait.”

You turn around, waiting for what he wants to say.

“When- uh when this is all over and when you have some free time, let me take you out, yeah?”

You barely ever heard Satoru Gojo stumble over his words, and when he did you know it was because he was nervous, and everyone knows Satoru Gojo is never nervous, yet that always seemed to be the exception when it comes to you.

You found it cute, the way he would try to seem aloof as the back of his neck became a beautiful shade of bright red.

“Yeah, but let’s save that for when you recover.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be up and ready by next week,” he says as if it were a fact, his blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter.

You sigh, even after coming back on the brink of death he still acts like a child, but you smile nonetheless, “Next week it is then.”

[qierxing]

A/N: For Trey's bday and also my brain can't stop thinking about this. I gotta go crazy(mera i'm stealing your naming of magicord thank u)

Prologue | Sex Doll! AU | Yan! Trey Clover x Reader TW/CW: Reader is a NEET, self harm idealization, bad coping mechanisms

You're attending your brother's wedding, right?

The text is simple and innocuous. It’s a perfectly reasonable question. There's no hidden sub context that your mother would leave in such a sentence. Yet it sends cold sweat running down your back as you begin to bite your nails anxiously. 

Weddings meant people. People meant socializing and having to answer questions such as “So what are you up to these days?” or “Do you have a partner?” all while smiling and trying not to rip your own skin off.

You end up gnawing off a chunk of your nail off subconsciously, still stuck on the bright screen boasting the text message. Your thumb hovers over the textbox, unsure of what to even reply with that wasn’t a solid “hell no”. It wasn’t your brother or anything, and it would probably be nice seeing him again, but not when there’s the added pressure of other people and even worse, the subtle judgment that would definitely ensue at seeing your current form.

Sighing, you switch off your phone. You’ll come back to it later. Darkness claims your room again, but your sight’s adjusted well enough that you manage to avoid stepping on the various candy wrappers and instant noodle cartons littered around the floor. Pushing past the trash bags in the kitchen, you open your fridge and curse internally. Right. You ate the last frozen pizza from your stash. And of course, there’s nothing in your fridge besides milk.

You’ve no energy to go walking to the grocery store, so you lumber back to your room like a zombie, picking up your phone again and switching the tab to the maps to look at take out places. A Magicord message notification banner comes up, distracting you temporarily from debating which takeout place would be the cheapest to get delivery from. 

{21:37}: ohhh my seven, look at what they release!d!! [image attachment]

The image boasts a handsome man with sharp green eyes and long curved horns. He’s smirking as he brandishes a large staff at the viewer. A familiar gothic logo is splayed next to the figure. You roll your eyes. Of course your friend is going crazy over the newest Twisted Wonderland android lineup. She’s been going on and on about how their models are the hottest designs around and how cool they were. She even has several around (Sea Witch knows how much it cost) if you remembered correctly.

{21:38}: whos that lol

{21:38}: COME ON ISN’T HE HOT

{21:39}: it’s literally a robot what

{21:39}: 🙄 can’t even appreciate hot looking robots smh

You huff a tired laugh at the enthusiasm she has, even at a relatively late hour. Still though, you’re much too drained and worried to indulge in her endless fangirling.

{21:41}: i’ll start appreciating robots if it means i don’t have to deal with my brother’s wedding

Just as you settle on a fast food place for takeout, another message banner pops up and makes your eyes blink and widen.

{21:45}: wait bet?

Oh Seven–

{21:46}: bruh. dont you dare do smth stupid

{21:47}: >:3c

{21:48}: i swear to the seven what r u doing

{21:51}: dw bout it

You squint at your messages with suspicion before deciding it wasn’t worth your time to play mind games with her. A notification pops up about your delivery and estimation time for your food and you decide to take a well needed shower before the poor unfortunate soul could come face to face with you. 

When you finally leave the bathroom feeling somewhat better and refreshed, a knock echoes on your apartment door. Great timing. When you open the door, however, it’s not a person holding a plastic bag that greets you, but a man with a huge box next to him. Your mouth opens and closes silently in confusion as the man doesn’t even blink as he holds out a clipboard for you.

“Signature, please.” He blandly says, as if you weren’t standing there gaping at him with baggy eyes with dripping hair.

“I-I, uh, I didn’t order anything?” You try to reassure yourself that the delivery man messed up your neighbor’s order, calming the flaring nerves as best you can before your brain starts shutting down. “I think you got the wrong place.”

The man purses his lips and checks the clipboard. “Are you [First] [Last]?” 

“Oh, uh, yes?” You’re taken aback. Did you order something off of Sam’s Shop and forget about it? 

“Then it’s for you. Signature, please. I need confirmation you received the item.” The man looks bored out of his mind and you’re not willing to make a bigger nuisance of yourself than necesscary, so you hastily take the pen and sign your name in a barely legible scrawl. The man drones an insincere thank you out before turning on his heel and leaving right away, leaving you with a huge box that will no doubt break your back if you tried to pick it up.

After much sweat and puffing, you manage to scoot the box into your apartment hallway, before you give up and decide that was enough. Picking up your phone again, several notifications show up on your lock screen.

[Your food delivery is delayed by: 10 minutes]

{22:30}: teehee, enjoy the free gift UwU

{22:31}: and no its not the new malleus guy. i gotchu smth u would like

{22:32}: YOUR WELCOME

You have half a mind to call her and start yelling her ears off, but that takes energy and effort that you’re not willing to afford right now. So you rub the bridge of your nose and take deep breaths in and out, and remind yourself you can’t afford to be in jail for a murder.

Okay. It seems that your friend got ahead of herself and got you an android that you probably will hate and even worse, would be expensive as hell to maintain. That’s fine. This is fine. You could probably just return the box or something. 

Still, curiosity burns in you at what lays inside the package. You’re well aware that Twisted Wonderland has a variety of models, so what did your friend even get you? Couldn’t be a RSA model, they were often sold out and when they were in stock, it was always limited. 

Ah, screw it. Throwing your inhibitions to the wind, you scour your drawers to find that dollar store razor you keep for situations like these and start tearing into the tape and cardboard. Finally managing to clear the tape, you open up the top of the cardboard box and your eyes widen at the contents.

[peppymintdreams]

Shower with you

Elias x Barista

Steam rose, fogging the glass walls of the shower as the hot water cascaded down, muffling the outside world. Barista stood under the stream, eyes closed, letting the warmth ease the tension in their muscles. It was quiet, peaceful—until the sound of the bathroom door creaked open.

Elias’ voice cut through the hiss of the water.

“Didn’t think you’d leave me out of the fun, did you?” he teased, poking his head inside, his usual grin plastered across his face.

Barista opened one eye, watching him.

“You always take so long to join. I thought you were busy plotting your next Smash Bros cheating strategy,” they quipped, rinsing soap from their hair.

Elias chuckled, stepping inside the shower, the warmth quickly wrapping around him.

“Plotting? Me? I’m innocent,” he replied with faux indignation, positioning himself next to them, letting the water hit his back. “Besides, I could use the break. I’ve been stuck with boring stuff all morning.”

Barista shifted, making room for him, though the shower wasn’t exactly designed for two people. Elias accidentally bumped into them, causing Barista to smirk.

“Uh-huh, and here I thought you just wanted to steal my shower gel,” Barista teased, noticing him eyeing the bottle.

“Guilty as charged,” Elias admitted, grabbing it and squeezing a bit into his palm. “You’ve got the good stuff. The stuff that smells like—" he paused, giving a sniff, “—mango or something.”

Barista rolled their eyes, playfully nudging him with their shoulder.

“You could ask, you know.”

Elias laughed, smearing the gel over his skin, the scent filling the small space.

“What’s the fun in that?” he quipped, his voice dropping lower as he shifted to face them. His playful grin softened into something more genuine as his eyes met theirs, water dripping down his messy hair. “Though... I wouldn’t mind stealing one other thing while I’m here.”

Barista raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Without waiting for an answer, Elias leaned in and kissed them, soft and slow under the running water. Barista let out a small laugh against his lips, returning the kiss before pulling back.

“Pretty sure you don’t have to steal those,” they whispered, a warm flush on their cheeks despite the steam.

Elias smirked, brushing his thumb over their cheek.

“Good to know.”

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the water pouring down around them like a protective barrier. Elias rested his forehead against Barista’s, letting the quiet stretch on. As he rubbed soap across their soaked body, he kissed their shoulder leaving red markings, moans escaped them

Barista never wanted this to end, dragging their hands lower down Elias’ body, feeling every muscle.

“Think we could stay in here all day?” Elias asked, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant to leave the moment.

Barista chuckled, pushing a strand of wet hair from his face.

“If we did, the water would get cold, and you’d be the first one out.”

Elias grinned, leaning in for one last kiss.

“Maybe. But right now, I think I’ll risk it.”

They stayed there a little longer, soaking up the peace before the world outside would inevitably pull them back