#sun is pissed and continues to get hurt

[rosenclaws]

unworthy || worst!Logan x reader

summary: Even though he's in a new universe his past continues to haunt him in the form of you. You're nothing but nice but Logan can't take it, not after you died by his hands in his own universe.

warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashbacks of blood and death. Logan gets brainwashed/manipulated in his past, emotionally unavailable Logan.

a/n: I saw that one tiktok prompt and decided to write this! I really like angst and low key might write a smutty part 2 but we will see! I hope you like it thank you!!!

It's another sleepless night for Logan. He's been having a lot of those lately. Wade's couch isn't exactly comfortable either. Everyone here treats him like a hero. Praising him for saving their universe. He scoffs at the idea. He wears the damn costume but he doesn't feel like a hero. Not after what he did.

Logan stands up from the couch, throwing off the blanket and deciding he needs some air. He grabs his jacket and leaves the apartment. The door closes loudly behind him but he can't seem to care. He fidgets with a cigar as he waits for the elevator to bring him to the ground floor.

When the cool outside air hits his face he relaxes. With a finally lit cigar, he walks around aimlessly. The sounds of his past haunt him with every passing second. Sure he may have saved this world but he is far from the hero they think he is.

"Logan? What are you doing?" He closes his eyes as he hears your voice from behind.

He glances over his shoulder to see you wrapped up in a blanket, a tired look on your face. It's early, the sun isn't even up yet and you're clearly exhausted. Yet here you are, out in the cold for him. He grunts in response, turning back around. He hears you sigh and it makes his stomach turn. He waits for you to turn around and go back inside but you don't. To his frustration you stay, you can't seem to take the damn hint.

You never have, he's tried to stay away from you. Ignore you. But you're so persistent. Stubborn. It doesn't matter how little he speaks to you or even looks at you, you don't give up. How he wishes you would. How he wishes you could understand that he needs you to stay far away from him. That just looking at you hurts. Hearing your voice is even worse. And being next to you is a knife through his heart.

It's not fair that you're here, haunting him in this universe as you did in his own. Though he thinks it might just be his punishment for everything he's done. How cruel.

"Go back to bed." He grumbles, his voice is slightly muffled by the cigar in his mouth.

"No." You say simply. Staying right next to him, looking up at the sky as the sun starts to peek out. He stares at you in disbelief. Wordlessly he stomps out his cigar and turns to leave.

"Logan, wait!" You call after him and he clenches his jaw. Why do you have to follow him? Why are you chasing him? His hurt builds until all he can feel is white hot rage.

"For fucks sake! Can't you just fuck off?" His growls. "I am sick and tired of seeing you everywhere I fucking go! So please, just take the fucking hint and leave. Me. Alone." Venom dripping with every word. He watches you shrink under his angry gaze.

Words dying on your lips as you tighten the blanket around yourself. His chest heaves as his anger starts to dissipate. He watches your eyes grow glassy and your lip quiver ever so slightly.

"I..I'm sorry." You mumble out an apology before running past him. Guilt creeps up inside of him but he doesn't let it show. It's better this way.  That's what he repeats over and over. Trying to convince himself it's true.

-

You don't understand what you've done to piss off Logan this much. To make him hate you the way he does. All you wanted was to befriend him, to help him. That's what you did with your Logan. His first friend in the X mansion all those years ago. Sure your Logan was just as untrusting and gruff at first but he learned to accept his family. He changed. Maybe it's your fault for thinking it would be the same. He's not your Logan. You have to remind yourself of that.

He looks just like him though. Talks like him, even smells like him. Your Logan yelled and had his moments but he always came back, pulling you tight and apologizing. But the anger in his eyes is something you'll never forget. He's not your Logan and he never will be. After that night you make a point to stay out of his way. Refusing Wade's dinner invitations and waiting until odd hours to leave your apartment, not wanting to even risk seeing him out in the hallways.

Eventually you ran out of excuses that Wade would accept and you were dragged back to his apartment for Mary Puppins' birthday party. At least the apartment was busy. You awkwardly stand in the corner of the room as they sing Happy Birthday. Logan and Wade are surrounded by everyone with Mary Puppins in Wade's arms. A little birthday hat on her head and somehow Wade got on on Logan's head.

As Wade gives a long, heartfelt speech about Mary and you grimace as she licks his face. Logan lets out a noise of disgust as stares at the two of them. You let out a little laugh, thinking you were being quiet enough but Logan's eyes snap to you. Nerves creeps over you as he refuses to look away. Without another word you set you cup down and leave.

Logan wanted space, so that's what you're giving him.

-

Logan watches you leave, a pang in his chest as he watches the joy fade from your face.

"God it's like watching a wet cat stare into the window of a loving home." Wade shakes his head disappointingly.

"Shut up." Logan growls.

"Hey don't get mad at me. I'm not the one who lashed out due to my inability to process my emotions." Logan raises his fist and unsheathes his claws.

Deep down he knows Wade is right, but he'll never admit it. Instead he puts his claws away and rips off the party hat. He weaves through the party guests to get to the door.

"Go get her Crocodile Dundee!" Wade shouts but Logan ignores him.

He knocks on your door but you don't answer. His heart begins to sink as he realizes that maybe he's pushed you too far. All he has to blame is himself. He's hurt you yet again. A part of him tells him to turn and leave. Just give up and accept his fate. But He waits and waits.

There's a small part of him keeping him rooted to the spot outside of your door, telling him that this time he can make it right. People trickle out of his apartment but he pays them no attention. Hours pass and still no sign of you. Still he remains determined. He closes his eyes and leans back. Ready to wait as long as it takes.

-

The morning after Wade's party sucks. You feel like shit, physically and mentally. You barely got enough sleep last night with your mind running all night. Sighing you decide the only thing that can salvage your morning is a donut. Though when you go to open your door, you're met with a very heavy resistance.

"What the?" You mumble as you push hard against the door. You hear someone swear before shuffling on the other side. When you can finally open your door all the way you see Logan standing in front of you. Was he out here all night?

"What do you want?" You ask tiredly. You're really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

"I..." Logan doesn't know where to start. How to even begin to apologize. Sighing you close your door but Logan sticks his arm out.

"Wait! Please, just, I need to say some things. You don't have to forgive me but I need to say them." Silently you open your door and let him in. He watches nervously as you make your way to your couch.

"You're dead in my world." He winces at his own bluntness.

"And I killed you." Logan paces back and forth as he tries to piece together his nightmares.

"It was supposed to be a simple mission. Recon. I don't even go on those kinds of missions but I didn't want you going alone." He squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers.

"Logan!" You scold lightly.

"Keep your hands to yourself." He smirks as he walks you up against the walls of the jet.

"You don't normally complain about where my hands go." Rolling your eyes playfully, you place a kiss on his cheek.

"Just wait till after the mission okay?" He winks and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Fine, but after this I get you all to myself."

"We walked in and everything went wrong."

Something was wrong and he knew it. Still you insisted on finishing your mission. The moment you stepped through the door he wanted to take you and run. He should have. But he acted too late. The things he saw, A wall separating the two of you. Hearing your screams for help as he couldn't get to you.

"Well well, aren't you an interesting one." He looks around for the voice but all he can see is darkness. His claws swipe at the wall as he hears your voice pleading for his help. Suddenly the wall lifted and all he could see was someone with a gun to your head. He doesn't hesitate to jump into action. Fighting with everything he's got.

"Logan!" Your scream sounds far away as he shoves his claws deep into the man's stomach.

To his confusion the world begins to melt around him. To his horror he sees you standing in front of him. Cuts and bruises on your face, not caused by the enemies, but by him.

"It's okay," You whisper. Your hands shake as you try to reach out for his face. He doesn't want to look down, knowing that if he does, he'll see his claws deep in your stomach. Slowly your body sinks to the ground. His claws retract and you cry as they leave your body. He wraps his arms around you as you grow weak in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeats over and over again. His hands press on your stomach and you groan in pain. There's too much blood but he doesn't care. He can fix this, he can save you.

"Logan, It's okay my love." You brush his face with your bloody hand.

"No! I can fix this! We just have to get you home yeah?" He tries to move you but you scream in pain. It's too late, you've accepted it but he can't seem to.

"Come on sweetheart, please." He pleads desperately as he brings your body closer to him.

"Please, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," It's getting harder to breathe but strangely you're completely at peace. Logan doesn't understand how you can be.

"I'm sorry, I love you." He doesn't let go of you, repeating that like a mantra as you die in his arms. 

"I killed you, I let whatever fucking asshole inside of my head and I killed you." He stops pacing and finally looks at you.

He blinks and it's like he's back in his nightmare. Blood on your face, a pitiful look on your face as you try and comfort him in your last moments. It makes him sick.

"I saw you everywhere I went, I let it ruin me. I became the monster you said I could never be." You reach out of him but he recoils from your touch.

"Then Wade found me and now I'm here thinking maybe I had changed but now you're fucking here. I see you every time I close my eyes and now I see you here." His claws come out in a fit of anger as he slams his hands against the arm of your couch.

"And you're so nice, too nice. You look at me just like she did and it kills me inside." His claws retract as he slowly approaches you.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, I don't deserve this. Any of this." Tears pool in your eyes as you watch the man break down right in front of you. Weighed down by the guilt of his past. Things begin to click together, why he's been so hostile towards you all this time.

"Logan, what happened isn't your fault." You say calmly. His breath hitches, you sound just like you did back then. Same tone and everything.

"If I was stronger, smarter..."

"You were tricked, it was an accident." You slowly move closer to him, worried that you'd scare him like a wounded animal.

"How can you be so kind about this?" He asks in disbelief.

"I killed you!"  His claws come out as he brings them dangerously close to your face.

"I put my claws through you, I watched you bleed out in my arms."  You gently touch his claws, moving them away from your face and bringing his hand to your chest. He resists, not wanting to touch you. Not wanting to hurt you

"I'm not her Logan. I'm here, I'm alive. You don't have to push me away." His eyes close as relents and places his hand on your heart. The steady beating grounds him back to reality. His memories slowly fade as he listens. Now only focused on you.

Ba bump Ba bump Ba bump 

"I know you think you deserve the worst. But you don't. Maybe, maybe this isn't the punishment you think it is. Maybe, the universe is giving you a do over.” You two know that you're different from the ones that you loved. That no matter how much you look like each other, its never going to be the same. But the same for both of you means death, loneliness. So maybe this is a good different.

“You’ve always been too good for me.” He says.

“No, I think I’ve always been what you needed.” Logan lets go of you but he stays close.

His thumb reaches out to brush away a stray tear. He cups your face and leans in slowly. He seems reluctant to take the final leap. To truly accept that he deserves good things so you meet him half way. Tugging at his shirt you bring your lips to his.

It's soft and sweet. Like a first kiss you share on the front steps of your porch after a first date. A first kiss, a fresh start. Logan deepens the kiss, guiding you gently to the couch. His lips travel down to your neck, nipping at your skin as he mumbles apologies.

"Logan," You squeak. He sits up, worry on his face.

"Too much?" He runs his hand over where he bit.

"No, but maybe we start slower. Breakfast?" Logan almost laughs at the idea of something so domestic but a fresh start is what he wanted. It's what he's gotten and he's not going to waste it.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds good."

[43qh]

Summer Haze (M)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

word count: 3.7k

warnings: unprotected sex, pining

summary: there is nothing sweeter than coming back to quinn hughes.

it’s summer again.

you can feel the slight burn on your knees as you sit on a folding chair, watching as the hughes’ brothers all get the boat ready for the lake. it was warm, but nothing you weren’t used to. becoming friends with all three brothers growing up was a hassle, you could say. they liked to bicker every now and then, especially the younger two. quinn was a bit reserved, but that never stopped you from chatting with him.

to quinn, you were like the sun. every time you made your way towards him, he felt his chest go tight and his hands turn sweaty. you had a gorgeous glow, something he admired more and more as the years went by. you turned into a beautiful woman that he adored. someone who handled herself with grace and yet knew how to have fun.

you just graduated college, and the weight on your shoulders felt lighter as you stared into the water. you had some time on your hands before you got into your new job, and you felt relaxed.

“i heard you graduated, gorgeous,” you hear a familiar voice, a cheeky smile on jack’s face as you turn your head to the right to look at him.

you smile back, “sure did. with honors.”

jack nods, “impressive.” jack pauses before continuing, “we all missed you, y’know.”

you nod softly, looking away for a second out of guilt. you had avoided coming to the lake for a few years so you could study and get everything done. you weren’t aware how much it had affected the hughes family. they were so used to having you around, and when you stopped coming, they worried for you and your mental health. you had to assure ellen than you were fine and just taking care of your studies. you promised her you’d be back in no time. that phone call was two years ago.

“i missed you guys too,” you smile at him, and jack pats your back.

“show up more.” he finishes before rushing back to his brothers that were already bickering. quinn looked frustrated as luke had a smile on his face. you knew luke did something just to piss him off. you watch as quinn rolls his eyes when jack comes back to the boat, and quinn hops off.

quinn can’t stop himself from making way to you. he wouldn’t admit it, but he probably missed you the most. he watched as you raised an eyebrow at him, a questionary look on your face as he approaches you.

“is quinn approaching me right now? is this real?” you smile at him, getting up from your seat to meet him halfway.

quinn huffs, “i always approach you.”

“yeah, when someone else needs me.” you point out. you weren’t wrong, and quinn knew it, “so, who needs me?”

“no one,” he licks his lips, before quickly re-answering, “well, me.”

“you?” you tilt your head in a question.

“yeah, how have you been?” quinn tries not to make the conversation awkward, but there wasn’t really anything quinn did that wasn’t awkward around you.

you smile, “i’ve been trapped in studies, but doing good. graduated with-”

“honors.” he finishes, making you pause your sentence, “i know.”

the fact he knew and still kept up with you, despite you practically cutting everyone off, made your heart flutter. you stood there with blank eyes, looking like a deer in headlights. you didn’t know how to react, how to respond. how did he know?

“i watched a viewing of your graduation.” he says, like he was answering the question in your head, “i was impressed, but not surprised. you love outdoing yourself.”

you nod, feeling like your feet are stuck to the ground. he watched you graduate from your college from a viewing, despite his crazy schedule. he made time for you. god, that hurt. and he didn’t text you that night. you almost wanted to cry because you knew he thought you didn’t want to hear from him anymore. the guilt traps you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t-”

he shakes his head, cutting you off, “i wanted to tell you i was proud. maybe i should have, but you basically fell off the face of the earth, i wasn’t even sure you’d read the message.”

you breathe out a sigh, “i always read what you send.”

quinn smiles to himself, looking towards the water, “well, now i know.”

you nod, looking at him as the sun shines down on him. you see him squint his eyes as he watched the way the water splashes back and forth. quinn is gorgeous. you’re sure everyone knew. maybe not him, but everyone else.

“i’m back now, though.” you say, a light smile gracing your features.

quinn looks back at you, smiling back in a way that makes you start to sweat where you stand, “yeah, feels great.”

quinn was known for being genuine. someone who joked a little less than his brothers. someone who meant what he said, and never took it back. when a sentiment came from quinn, you didn’t have to doubt it came from the heart and nowhere else.

when quinn hears the call of his brothers, saying the boat is ready, he gives you one more smile before rushing off towards them. you stay planted in the grass, suddenly not wanting to ride the boat anymore.

you basked in quinn’s attentive nature, sighing to yourself. how could you have walked away so easily from this?

quinn made it his mission to remember everything about you.

when you left a few years back, he had to remember. it was a taste he couldn’t get rid of, even if he wanted to. so, instead, he embraced it. he remembered how you liked your tea, what temperature was considered perfect for you inside the lakehouse, what soap you used so he could grab it at the grocery store for you. he had to remember these things so it didn’t seem like you were really gone.

when you found out your bathroom was stocked with your favorite necessaties, you knew who did it. you felt a pang in your heart as you noticed that even the towel hanging on the rack was your favorite color. quinn may be silent a lot, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen. in fact, it means he listens the most.

what would have happened to you and quinn if you hadn’t cut everyone off? would things be different?

you cross your arms over your chest, looking around the spare bedroom they always saved for you. it felt unreal to be back. you could smell hints of quinn’s cologne hinting the room, confirming that it was him who set the room together for you.

it hurt. god, it hurt like hell.

of course you missed the rest of the hughes family, but something about quinn’s attention sent shivers down your spine. he was so attentive, always specializing your needs. it was like he stocked all of his memories about you just for this moment when you came back.

you sit on the edge of the bed, pressing your hands into the soft comforter and leaning back. you start to wonder that, if you had stayed in touch, maybe things would have been different. maybe your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it did now. maybe you would have been develop something with quinn. something deeper than watching one another from afar.

you hear a knock, shocking you and making you rise to your feet to open the door. on the other side is a smiley quinn. his hair slightly wet, draping over his features.

“like the room?” he questions, hands in his pockets as he looks at you.

“i love it. you remembered everything i like.”

“how do you know it was me?” he fiddles around.

you smile at him, “you’re the only one who would remember.”

quinn nods his head, looking away from you as you see his nose start to turn a shade of pink. quinn didn’t mean to get embarrassed. he wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling you gave him in his stomach when you two talked.

“when did you become this talkative?” you lean against your doorframe, looking at him with playful eyes.

the hockey player shrugs, looking you back in the eyes again, “when i became captain, i guess. i needed to have more assertiveness. pick up my voice a bit more.”

you nod, “makes sense.”

it falls silent, and you both just stare at one another. quinn’s scruff on his face shapes it perfectly, making him a little more attractive than usual. quinn always had features you adored, but he looked a bit more buff now, a bit more grown. it almost made you sad that you missed out on so much. so, so damn much.

“i wish i never left,” you blurt. and his eyes focus in on you.

“me neither.” he states, licking his lips.

you look away in shame, “i thought i knew what was best for me.”

“you don’t need to explain yourself.” quinn takes his hands out his pockets, slowly reaching for your hands. when his hands touch yours, you feel a spark rush down your body. his hands are warm. not too cold, not too hot. they were perfect, a bit calloused, but perfect.

you stood with your teeth clenched, trying hard not to become emotional. you wanted to say something, but he said you didn’t need to explain yourself. for some reason, though, you felt like you did. it was like an ache in the back of your throat begging to be released.

“i know,” you whisper, “but i would for you.”

quinn’s hands tighten on yours, and you desperately want to kill the distance between the two of you. but you don’t, and neither does he. when quinn hears ellen calling his name, he pulls back just as quick as he pulled in.

you sigh, watching as he smiles and bids you a ‘see you later’. you have to close your door hurriedly behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. you could still feel the lingering tingle he left in your hands.

you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

would it feel better than this?

you’re sure it would.

“he missed you most,” luke’s voice comes from beside you, making you look at him with a questionary look.

“uh- sorry?” you sit on the boat, luke making his way to sit next to you.

“quinn,” he says nonchalantly, “he had a hard time staying away when you stopped texting.”

there’s that ache again. that pain in your chest that makes you want to turn back time. if only you could. if only you could have been by his side.

you drop your head, looking down at your hands as you clutch the seltzer in your hands. the cold condensation in contrast to the hot summer made you swallow.

“i don’t mean to make you feel bad,” luke quickly corrects himself, making you tilt your head up a bit to see the raise in his eyebrows as he realizes what he said, “i just think you should make up for lost time. it really surprised all of us, but i think quinn never once stopped thinking about you. it was really obvious sometimes.”

you look at quinn from where he carefully drives the boat over the waters, making sure not to hit the waves too hard. he sits wearing his hat backwards, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

“obvious?” you don’t look away from the man driving the boat.

“yeah,” luke follows your gaze, “he mentioned you a lot. asked if any of us talked to you or heard from you. he would even see something and send it in the groupchat saying how much you would have loved it.”

you take a sip of your drink, throat suddenly dry as you take in the information like a sponge. this felt so unfair. you weren’t supposed to feel so guilty for prioritizing your studies and graduating like you always wanted. but quinn made it almost impossible not to feel that way. and it wasn’t even his fault that you felt this way. that’s what troubled you most.

you had no place to put down this guilt.

you sighed, “i wish i stayed.”

luke shakes his head, “everyone does. don’t let that change what you do now, though.”

luke was right.

you had nowhere else to look other than forward. maybe it would take fighting tooth and nail to get quinn back the way you used to be, or maybe it would be easy. you didn’t know. but as you looked at the eldest hughes brother, watching him focus on the waters, you knew you had to at least try.

none of this would have been worth it, without trying.

when night falls and quinn is finished packing up the boat, you approach him. he meets you halfway, smiling with his teeth.

“have fun today?” he asks, his nose slightly sunburnt.

you stand for just a second before planting yourself in his arms. quinn is a bit shocked, letting out a huff of surprise before instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist. your arms stay linked around his neck, one hand reaching to play with his hair. you hear him hum at the action.

“i’m guessing yes?” his voice is low in your ear, and you shiver as you close your eyes, leaning into him deeper.

“i should have stayed.” you start, and he’s about to pull back but you tug on him to stay, “but i’m not going to let what i did stop me from catching up with you.”

quinn sighs, “there’s not much to catch up on.” he pauses, “we’ve always been connected. always felt it.”

his musk envelopes your nose, easing you into his embrace like it was made for you. maybe it was.

“me too.” you confess.

even while gone, it was always quinn that came to mind. you loved the rest of the hughes family, but quinn never stopped wrapping your mind the most.

the rest of the hug was quiet, no words spoken as the tight hold on one another becomes a close understanding to one another.

this was moving forward.

you stand in front of the sliding doors, watching as rain falls almost violently. you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“admiring the rain?”

you hear a familiar voice, making you smile to yourself as you turn around and see quinn standing against the wall frame, hands in pockets. he looks good. sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, eyes drooping like he just woke up, hair messy, shirt clinging to his body. you swallow at the sight of him.

“you could say that.” you respond, and quinn raises an eyebrow. “where’s everyone else?”

quinn hums, “grocery shopping.”

“and you didn’t go?” you tilt your head, knowing he normally liked going so he could pick out what he liked.

he shakes his head, “no.”

you look at him with confused eyes, “why not?”

“knew you’d be here.” he confesses, like it’s almost something he’s not supposed to say, “wanted to stay with you.”

you watched as he shifted uncomfortably, leaning off the wall and standing awkwardly. you smile to yourself at the man in front of you, observing as his ears start to tip a color of red.

you walk towards him, and his breath hitches in his throat. he feels frozen as you approach him. quinn felt his brain stop working as you stopped right in front of him. your perfume engulfed him, hugged him like a blanket.

“you don’t have to kick everyone out to kiss me.”

your words linger in the air, your confident stare making him swallow and lick his lips.

“i- i didn’t kick-”

you roll your eyes, “i didn’t mean literally.”

quinn nods, the silence in the air becoming tense as he doesn’t move, no matter how badly his hands start twitch in his pockets. he wants to pull you flush against his body, kiss you like it matters. but the courage never strikes him.

you huff, taking matters into your own hands and clutching his face. your lips meet his, and he takes a minute before he’s responding back, hands slowly coming out of his pockets to delicately rest on your hips, kissing you softly and slowly.

it wasn’t rushed, just a kiss of silent confessions. you run your nails through his hair, earning yourself a soft groan that you swallow up. it’s heaven. nothing like you’ve felt before. it’s more than what you expected. you can feel his scruff scraping you slightly, and you sigh at the closeness. his hands become more and more greedy, starting to pull you close to him as the kiss becomes something more. something filled with need.

quinn swears he could die like this and be happy. the sound of the rain is buffed out by the sweet sighs you let out during the kiss. he appreciates the way you whine when he pulls back, biting your lower lip with careful teeth. you look up at him, breathing heavy. he swears you looked the most gorgeous than he’s ever seen. doe eyes, curious expression, attention all on him.

he can feel your hands still gripping onto his hair, like you were silently begging for something more. he huffs when he realizes just how close you are. chest to chest, breathing one another’s air, noses close to almost touch.

he wants you. he wants it all.

he’s quick to drag you to his room, making you squeak when he tugs your wrist to follow him. you let out a soft giggle, throwing your head back in some type of euphoria. when your back lands on his bed, you smell him instantly. his soap, his musk, his cologne. all of it. it only made you want him more.

“you’re so beautiful,” he finally spoke, “especially in my bed.”

you smile up at him, “won’t be the last time.”

quinn shakes his head as he makes work at both of your clothes, “hope not.”

it has felt long overdue for this moment. to have quinn all to yourself. to feel his skin on yours, to feel the way his heart beats for you, to feel the way his hands are on your sides and thighs as he spreads you apart for his hungry eyes.

“gorgeous,” he breathes, taking in your fully nude body, “so wet, too.”

you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, whining, “then you must know how much i need you?”

quinn smiles to himself, laughing under his breath, “yeah, definitely.”

quinn doesn’t think he can tease you any longer. the more he teases you, the more he’s teasing himself, really. it’s not long until he’s lining up to your entrance, making the both of you let out long strings of relief the second he enters you. he stretches you out, making you feel every throb and vein possible on his cock.

you clutch his shoulders, “fuck.”

quinn nods, “so tight.”

both of your breathing has become rapid, staggered and eager. quinn’s first thrust into you is slow, like he’s testing the waters. it feels so fucking good, like he was made for you.

“take my cock so well,” quinn says it like a prayer, “made just for me, only me.”

your walls flutter at his words, causing a hitch in his throat and a stutter in his thrusts. quinn can’t help picking up his pace, your pussy feeling too good. he felt almost drunk, nothing quite coherent coming to his brain. he can barely feel the way your nails claw at his shoulder and bicep as he picks up a brutal pace. it all feels too good. your moans echoing around his room, bouncing in his ears and sending him to cloud nine.

“want you to-” you gasp as he reaches that spot inside you that has you curling your toes, “fuck, cum inside me. want your cum inside me.”

quinn can feel sweat starting to develop on his forehead, and he groans at your confession. “gonna give it to you. want you to cum for me first, though.”

quinn makes a point by lowering a hand down to your clit, rubbing deep circles into you. you let out a soft yelp, surprise being taken over by pleasure too quickly. you can feel the way your pussy is starting to convulse around him, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to cum.

with one particular thrust and press of his thumb on his clit, you let out a string of curses mixed with his name as you cum. it doesn’t take much for quinn to follow right behind you, the fluttering of your pussy almost too much for him. you shiver at the feeling of his cum coating your walls, listening to the way his breathing slowly comes down from such a high.

quinn hugs you close to him, despite his exhaustion. he never wants this to end. never wants to be apart from you again. this is something he’s scared of losing. he pined too long for you to leave again.

you run your fingers through his hair, easing you both back to earth and reality. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

quinn has his head buried in your neck, “me neither.”

this wasn’t just a summer fling to either of you. this was something important.

“i’m never leaving again.” you kiss his temple, “especially not you.”

quinn relaxes, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. you can feel the relief escape his shoulders. he finally pulls out, quickly grabbing a towel from his bathroom to clean you up. he kisses your forehead, handing you a bottle of water he already had on his night stand from last night.

when he finishes taking care of you, he slips on a pair of boxers and hands you a pair yourself. you smile in gratitude. quinn swears he’s living in heaven. he swears this is what heaven looks like.

quinn gets in the bed next to you, watching as you slip on a shirt of his, too. “you’re pretty in my clothes.”

“you’d say that in anything i wore,” you lean into his embrace as he holds his arms out for you.

he just smiles, “maybe so.”

the sun starts shine through his window, the rain finally stopping and leaking in a special summer haze in the room.

your very own summer haze.

[lvnleah]

Moving Day | Alessia Russo

Based on this request!

Summary: it’s moving day and your wife, Alessia, gets protective over you due to you being pregnant.

Notes: a bit of a short one but it’s cute!

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You loved your wife, Alessia, you really did, but ever since you’d become pregnant with your first child she felt overwhelming. Since the moment you started the ivf process, Alessia treated you like fragile glass.

It was like you were going to break at any given moment and she needed to wrap you up in bubble wrap. It was at the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

When you became pregnant, you and Alessia decided it was time to leave your apartment and move into a house. Your apartment was only ever supposed to be temporary until you and Alessia found a permanent place in London. You had a house in Manchester but when Alessia moved to Arsenal, you decided that an apartment was better for you both for the time being.

When you started to look for houses, Alessia took it more seriously than you. You weren’t in any rush to find a dream house but Alessia was. She wanted a house that you could raise you baby and any future children in.

You viewed six houses before you found ‘the one’ that was perfect. You were convinced that your estate agent thought Alessia was crazy. Every house that you viewed had to pass Alessia’s check list. It had to have at least three bedrooms, a large kitchen and living room and a good sized garden.

You and Alessia stood in the doorway of your new house, the sun casting a glow on the freshly painted walls. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, something that was stressing Alessia out. It was moving day and you were 28 weeks pregnant.

The boxes were stacked high, and your friends Beth, Viv, Leah, and Vic were bustling around, carrying furniture and unpacking kitchenware.

“Lessi, please just let me unpack one box!” You pleaded with the blonde, a small pout resting on your face.

Alessia sighed, “Love, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Me and the girls have it under control.” She said, pecking your lips as she walked past you with a box.

You wanted to help. You wanted to be part of this exciting transition into your new home. Once Alessia was out of sight, you picked up a small box labelled ‘Books’ and attempted to carry it to the bookshelf. Alessia swooped in like a hawk, her protective instincts on high alert.

"No, love," she said gently, taking the box from your hands. "You shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Let the others handle it."

You huffed, frustration bubbling up. "Alessia, I'm not made of glass! I can carry a box or two."

You felt useless. You wanted to scream, to tell Alessia that you weren't fragile, that you could help but instead, you bit your lip and nodded.

As the day wore on, Alessia continued to shield you from any physical exertion. You watched as your friends laughed and chatted. Alessia was in her element, directing where things were to go and ensuring everything was in its rightful place. You felt like an outsider, a spectator of your own life.

When Alessia was outside, you picked up a small box of your clothes. You were halfway up the stairs when Alessia swooped in and took the box from your hands.

“Less!” You groaned in frustration, “just let me carry the goddamn box! I’m not glass, I’m pregnant. It’s just a box of clothes.”

“Babe, it’s okay.” She said, walking away from you. “I can do it.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, trying your best not to scream and Alessia and get pissed off. Leah joined you on the stairs.

“You alright?” She asked, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“I’d be alright if Lessi let me carry a box and stopped treating me like fucking glass!” You murmured, making your way up the stairs.

Alessia left the room once again and this time you decided to unpack a box downstairs in the kitchen. Just as you began to lift the glasses out of the box and into the cupboard, Alessia swooped in once again.

“Please be careful,” Alessia pleaded, taking the glass from your hands, “One of the girls can do this.”

Finally, you snapped. “Alessia, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not made of glass. I can carry a box or two and help unpack!”

She turned to face you, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “You’re pregnant! You should be resting, not lifting heavy things.”

“But I’m not helpless!” You said, your voice raised a little. “I can still do stuff!”

Your argument escalated quickly and you found yourself going back and forth. Your voices rose until your friends paused in their tracks, watching you with wide eyes. Alessia’s cheeks flushed, and you knew I’d hit a nerve when she stormed off and left you alone in the kitchen.

By late afternoon, exhaustion settled in and your friends had left your house. Alessia and you hadn't exchanged more than a few words since that initial clash. You sat on the edge of your bed, rubbing some lotion into your bump. Alessia joined you, her expression softer now.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible. "I only want what’s best for you and our baby, love.”

"I know," you replied, tears welling up. "But I need to feel useful too. I'm not just an incubator. I wanted to help today Lessi, I did, but I felt like you were stopping me."

She kissed your forehead as she pulled you into her side, "I love you, and I want to protect you both. I went overboard and I’m sorry."

"You did," you said, your voice trembling. "But I also need you to trust me, I know my own body, and that you won't smother me."

You sat there, your emotions swirling like leaves caught in a storm for a short moment. Alessia placed a delicate kiss on your temple.

"I don't want to control you," she whispered. "I just want us to be safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you or our baby, you're my whole world.”

"I know," you murmured. "But sometimes it feels like a cage."

“I’m sorry,” Alessia sighed, “Tomorrow I’ll let you help but just nothing heavy, alright?”

You laughed and tilted your head to be in line with Alessia’s. You kissed Alessia’s soft lips before you both crawled into bed together. The next day, you found a good balance between helping and not going overboard. Alessia let you carry the light boxes but also helped you unpack the heavy ones.

The next night, you laid down together in your bed, exhaustion overtaking the both of you. In each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep. Alessia’s hand rested on your growing bump as your baby kicked away. Despite all the stress of moving, you absolutely loved your new house and couldn’t wait to fill it with memories that you and Alessia were soon going to create together. The first starting with welcoming your baby into the world.

[suhkusa]

The pizzas the two of you ordered were long gone by the time the sun was coming to a set. 

The whole day felt unreal, because if Atsumu was honest, he never thought this day would come. The day where he’d be hanging out with you, alone at that. At least ever since that happened.

Most of the time was spent just chatting and joking around as if the divide in your friendship never occurred. Like he never even distanced himself from you. 

You’re looking at sunset, but his own eyes are caught on you. He’s caught up in his own head that he doesn’t register you turning to meet his eyes.

That’s not what snaps him out of it though, in fact, it’s the words that spill from your mouth.

“Atsumu,” you start, “Why do you do what you do?”

He’s befuddled, “What?” But he knows exactly what you meant.

“I mean like,” your eyes awkwardly wander before setting back on him, “why do you sleep around?”

He’s leaning back on his own hands before he offers, “Haven’t you asked that before?”

“Yeah, but you never gave me a straightforward answer,” you're fidgeting with your hands. Have you always had that habit?

“Oh,” he thinks for a second before continuing, “Well, I guess it’s easy,”

Atsumu thinks for a second that maybe the subject would change after he gave you a simple answer, but you push.

“How? Doesn’t it hurt?” your eyes are full of concern when he looks at you.

“Ah- No… not really. It’s somewhat agreed that it’s not serious by both sides when we do it,” he’s never been asked this before. And he never expected it would be you he’s having this conversation with.

It looks like his words are processing in your mind. “I see, but don’t you ever wish you could just be with one person? I- Well, I mean we’re graduating in a year. It won’t always be this easy,”

Your words hit him. Because yes, of course he’s thought about devoting himself to one person. He’s thought about it ever since he was younger. Days, nights, even in his sleep— that person was always a consuming thought of his. But that one person is out of reach. That’s why he drowns himself and distracts himself from the eternal feeling of never being able to have her. Drowning himself in girls that allow himself to distract his mind and heart from feelings for her.

“I think about it sometimes, but you wouldn’t understand,”

You look at him dead in the eyes, “Hit me,”

Atsumu’s eyebrows scrunch up in concern, what-

“Not literally, oh my god,” you laugh, “like, tell me,”

He internally face palms himself, embarrassing. “Oh, I just want to distract myself,”

“From what? Like volleyball.. or feelings?” his eyes widen a bit at your words.

“Er, I guess maybe feeling? I’m not sure,”

You lean in a bit closer with worried eyes, “Are you depressed?”

“NO,” he’s quick to reply. He laughs as he watches you sigh with relief.

Your head tilts as you think to yourself for a moment. “I think I understand you a little bit,” you look back at the sun, the golden glow hitting your skin perfectly.

The rays of the sun shines past your silhouette, creating a halo around you. You’re gorgeous.

 He’s always thought so. 

There’s a weird feeling in his chest as he admires looks at you.

“Hey,” he jumps at your voice, and then you’re turning around to face him once again, “I always tell you this but I hope you know I’m here for you. If you’re ever going through something, I’m here. Even if you and your brother piss me the fuck off sometimes, I’m here,”

The weird feeling that he thought was new started churning and churning in his chest. And before he knew it, the familiar feeling that he tried so, so hard to get rid of came tumbling back into his heart.  

Fuck, it’s coming back.

Atsumu simply nods at your words, and you smile before you keep talking.

“I missed this. When we would just hangout for the fuck of it. When we’d hang out because it just felt natural,” you pause, “but we’re missing Osamu, huh?”

“Yeah,” 

“We should hang out more when you’re not doing stuff.. or doing girls,” the last part is mumbled but he still hears it. He nudges you before the two of you laugh.

Atsumu is scared because this was what he was trying to avoid all this time. It wasn’t you, yourself. It was the effect you had on him. And the past couple of years of his poor attempt to get rid of his feelings for you had been tossed down the drain all because of this one day spent with you. 

If only you knew the effect of just being in your presence had on him.

BOTH AIN’T SH!T — DROWN TO DISTRACT

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

sorry this was very dialogue heavy

things will be explained in due time :0

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 22

Series Masterlist

Warnings: A bit of angst; Poorly written smut; oral (m rec) A/N: We all knew he'd be pissed and he has never been on good terms with emotions. This poor man, I swear. Regardless, he's getting better! We'll be moving forward soon!

The sun was warm against your skin when you finally felt awareness creeping into your subconscious. You must have slept all night. There was only the slightest hint of worry before you realized a warm chest was rising and falling evenly below your head, with only the slightest hint of a wheeze, the calming cadence of a heartbeat against your ear. You were safe and warm in bed with a recovering Daryl. He still felt feverish but it wasn’t so drastic anymore. Had Carol given him the tylenol since you had apparently fallen into a coma?

Stretching your legs, you smiled and snuggled closer, the baby obviously wide awake as well, rolling against the sore patch of skin you actually laid on. You had almost forgotten about it. Truly had almost forgotten about the entire ordeal. The hunt, the injury, your father, and—oh, god—the fact that Daryl had known you were gone and had to be sedated. Hadn’t you talked to him? Had he answered? It was then that you decided to look up at him—

And he was staring right back at you.

He didn’t say a single word, not yet, but his face said it all. Stoic, eyes calm but with a blue inferno burning just behind the surface. His hand was on top of yours, his fingers beginning to drum against your skin.

“Good morning?” You smiled behind a wince, knowing you were about to be reprimanded beyond anything Hershel could have said the night before. He only hummed, an upward jerk of his chin returning your greeting. “You’re mad.” You knew he was, and he had every right to be, but you stood by your decision to hunt, to find some form of independence whilst protecting him and caring for the group.

“Mhm.” He replied simply. If the impending backlash wasn’t looming, you would have thought it was amusing. The fact that he had yet to say anything at all was more daunting than any words he could have spoken. 

“Are you gonna yell at me now?” You moved back just the slightest bit and propped yourself on your elbow.

“Mm-mm.” Daryl shook his head. His fingers continued to drum on top of your hand. You distantly wondered if that hurt the IV lingering in those veins.

“Can you say something?” You sat up completely and pulled your hand away, rubbing at your sore belly with the other before you thought better of it but it was too late. His eyes had already moved to that spot and squinted. The hand closest to you, reached out to grasp your sweater and pulled it up. You let him. There was no sense in trying to hide it. The bruising was a bit worse but not so much that you were compelled to call for Hershel. “It’s fine. I promise.” He didn’t just let the fabric fall back into place. He jerked it down before retracting his hand. “Daryl.”

“What?” His voice was raspy, downright gravelly and he coughed from the use of it.

“I know you’re upset with me, and I—”

“Upset. Right.” He nodded, suddenly invested in the IV, turning his hand over as if he was contemplating tearing out the tubing. Keeping his head still, his eyes moved back to your stomach. “Hershel checked it?”

“Yeah, first thing I asked him to do.” Anxiety was bubbling up inside your chest. Somehow, his impassiveness was much worse than the anger you had expected. “The baby’s fine, doing pirouettes and shit in there.” His jaw was moving back and forth, a sure sign that he was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I knew you’d be furious with me, but it was something I had to do.”

“Don’t gimme that shit, Y/N.” There was finally a hint of vexation that, oddly enough, soothed some of your worry. “Didn’t hafta do nothin’.” 

“You needed—still need—to be in this bed. No matter what I say, you’re always busting your ass and running your health into the ground to provide for us—for me. I couldn’t let you—”

“I know what m’doin’ an’ I don’t regret it. You’re the one pregnant an’ s’my job to make sure you’re both eatin’ an’ safe.” The archer snapped, pushing himself up a little higher on the pillows, his arms trembling from the effort. “Ya had no business out there. Could’a got a lot worse than a fuckin’ bruise.” He swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing while he looked down at your belly again. It occurred to you then that he had improved enough to say full sentences without gasping, making your endeavor even more worth it.

“I won’t apologize. I got a bruise. You got fucking pneumonia!” You squared your shoulders and could have sworn you saw a flutter of admiration before his eyes returned to that stoney glare.

“Then don’t.” He hissed lowly. “Only reason I ain’t throwin’ ya outta here is cause I need to keep a eye on ya so ya don’t do something even more stupid.” 

“I’m a fucking adult! I don’t need your permission! Maybe I’ll go back out today!” You wouldn’t, and you knew damn well that he had grounds to act how he was but it just wasn’t who you were to back down. It just wasn’t. 

“Over my dead body.”

“Well, I won’t be waiting long if you keep this shit up!” You gestured vaguely toward him, to the whole of him. He’d been on death’s doorstep, the very reason you had gone out in the first place. Was there no way for him to understand where your head was when you made that decision?

“Ain’t fuckin’ drugged today.” 

Well, that was very true, and now he knew to watch for Hershel. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he would plow right through anyone who stood in his way. You were oddly thankful for that. He was getting better but he still wasn’t there. Not by a long shot, especially if the worsening of his voice was anything to go by; the way he started to wheeze and visibly hold back coughs that he needed to allow to happen.

“It’s done, Daryl, and I’m here. I’m alive. The baby is fine. Can’t you just let it go and focus on getting better?”

“Can’t you just stop bein’ a horse’s ass an’ take care’a our baby instead’a worryin’ ‘bout me all the goddamn time?”

Your hands flew up toward the sides of your head, ready to grasp handfuls of your own hair and rip it out. “We’d both like for you to be here when they’re born, you absolute stubborn, clueless jackass! We both fucking love you and want you to fucking be here!” You realized your mistake the moment the words fell from your tongue but you refused to take it back. 

Me too, crazy girl.

You gasped, watching the change wash over him from irate to docile to confused. Goddamn it, you had been so tired, you had missed it and it was likely he’d not admit it again without the influence of a drug loosening his tongue. 

He loved you. And you were fighting with him when all he wanted to do was protect you and the little life you had created together. You wanted to cry, wanted him to say it again. You had to find middle ground, had to find a way to make him comfortable enough to show you that part of him.

With a quick curl of his lip, obvious disdain, whether toward his own weakness or your actions, he leaned toward the bedside table for the cup of water. The sound he made when you reached to help could only have been described as a growl. “Don’t need ya to mother me.”

“I’m not mothering you, Daryl.” You snatched up the cup and held it out to him, the snarl he gave the gesture making you think he wouldn’t take it. In the end, thirst overpowered petulance. Still, he glared at you over the rim as he drank deeply. When the cup was empty, he tossed it across the room rather than handing it back. “Stop being such a child. There’s one baby in this room and that’s enough.” With a sound of utter frustration, you made to get off the bed, halted by a firm hand on your forearm. Middle ground, middle ground, middle ground.

“Where’re ya goin’?” 

“To get more water. You need to keep drinking.” When you moved again, he tugged you back. 

“You’re stayin’ right the fuck there.” 

You tried to pull free but he held fast, just tight enough to stay you but not enough to hurt. There was a conscious effort to keep your tone level. “Let go, Daryl. It’s just downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

“Nah.” His eyes narrowed, challenging. The staredown was rather intense and it was you who relented. His intentions weren’t out of anger even though that’s what he was displaying. He was scared. You had sacred this seasoned hunter, a man molded out of pain and a past that he still hadn’t shared with you. 

You acquiesced to his demand, sliding back toward him and up to the pillows to sink into them beside him. The shocked expression didn’t linger, reverting to stoicism before he released his hold and placed both hands on his lap. You didn’t stop him when he began to tinker with the IV tubing. As long as he wasn’t trying to remove it.

“I know I scared you and for that, I’m sorry.” You occupied yourself with rubbing your hands over the swell of your abdomen. You wouldn’t remind him that you didn’t feel a single hint of remorse for doing what you did, but the way he was handling this, you had terrified him. You were fully aware of that before you had left, but seeing the effect firsthand had you feeling horrible. As difficult as it was, you watched him and refused to turn away, bidding him to look at you. When he finally obliged, he looked so defeated, your heart crushed under the weight of his despondency. 

You could picture him tearing out that IV, blood flying, Carol begging him to stay in bed. Hershel would have run to the door by then, hearing the commotion. The old man might have tried to block the exit but he wouldn’t have stayed when he saw the determination, the anger and the fear. No, he would have gone for the morphine then and alerted Rick and the others. 

Hershel said he took on all three. Feverish, breathless, and weak, Daryl had fought three healthy men to try and get to you. Even when you were in no immediate danger, he had been so desperate. 

When exactly had he become your person? 

He once touched you so roughly, simply claiming you for pleasure. It wasn’t something you could ever hold against him. It had been the same for you. You had just wanted to keep feeling something when the world around you was dying. 

Daryl was all you ever wanted to feel now. You wanted to be surrounded by him, drown in him. Breathe him in and let him flow through your veins. 

Before you could say another word or think another thought, the archer was leaning toward you and curling a hand around the back of your neck to pull you in, simultaneously dragging the nasal cannula from its position, just in time for his mouth to cover yours. It was desperate, full of a need that he couldn’t articulate, and any objections you had were swallowed eagerly. Your hand came to rest on his cheek, lips moving against his, opening for him when his tongue probed the seam of them. His right hand found your belly, laying flat before twisting into the fabric of your sweater. You were the one to separate, nuzzling your cheek against his when you felt his grip on your neck tighten. It was too easy to reach and remove his hand, moving back only enough to bring his knuckles to your lips. 

“Scared the shit outta me.” 

“I know. I’m right here, Daryl. I won’t do it again. I promise.” 

There was a sound from deep in his chest, amplified by the rattle of what little fluid remained, as he shook his hand from your grasp and wound his arm beneath yours to pull you closer. “Y/N, I—” When you angled your head to search out his gaze, he avoided you, his cheeks tinted but not from fever. With a soft smile of understanding, you worked his fingers loose from your sweater, one by one, avoiding the IV line. 

“It’s okay.” You whispered against his ear, shifting back and kissing those knuckles just as you had the others. It was one of those moments you had played out in your head while hunting. Daryl needed reassurance. He needed to understand that when you promised, you meant it. 

He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him. 

He was watching you, brow drawn inward, as if he didn’t know what was happening, where to go next. This time, you would take the lead. He had been so open, so gentle with you after the incident in the forest. He had shown you his insecurities to soothe your own. Now, you’d show him that you were there and that you planned to stay.

Your lips slotted over his and this time, it was him to grant you access, your tongue licking eagerly into his mouth to savor that familiar taste of him. You couldn’t get enough, but you needed to keep things slow. He was still sick. You needed to take care of him. He chased you when you pulled away, halted only by your splayed fingers on his chest.

“Let me.” You stated softly, the corners of your mouth lifted when he settled back onto the pillows. Your sweater was the first thing to go, bra following shortly after, any shame you felt over your body quickly dissolving under the heat of his gaze. He said nothing but the hand limited by the IV came to rest at the hollow of your throat, his calloused palm flat as it explored each breast, round and fuller from the pregnancy. His touch was gentle, the memory of you explaining that part of you was sore and sensitive. Fingertips grazed your nipples and you gasped, quick to grab his wrist below the tubing. His hand was guided to his lap, where he left it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you slowly dragged the sheets away. Daryl was still only clad in boxer briefs, his desire for you already obvious. When you sat yourself on his thighs, your damp heat through the leggings lured his attention but only momentarily. His eyes lifted right back to yours. There was no objection when you slipped your fingers into the waistband of his last shred of clothing, creeping backwards toward his feet and pulling the fabric along with you.

He was fully hard before you pulled the underwear off his feet and tossed them aside, finding him once again chewing the inside of his lip. He watched you stand and slip off your own clothing, but he remained stock still, only his eyes shifting with your movements. Completely bare to him, you crawled forward, your belly heavy below you but unhindering. However, your thighs trembled ever so slightly to hold your embarrassingly slick core away from his groin, not yet ready to give in to that desire. 

His hands moved up your sides, over your ribs and back down to your hips, settling there. Each kiss you initiated was accepted and returned, small and chaste, your own hands exploring the planes of his chest and abdomen. Muscles twitched beneath your fingertips, his pulse jumped against your lips while your mouth carved a path to his collarbone. That special spot that made him suck in a sharp breath and, surprisingly, tilt his head to grant you better access.There was no scoff or sarcasm, no resistance, no attempt at control. He just gave it up to you. Maybe he just needed it. 

“Just let me take care of you, okay?” Your request was a whisper against his skin, each word spoken into a different area, your mouth ending just over his right nipple. Your tongue flicked against the nub, your lips puckering to blow cool air against it just to watch him shiver. You’d never tell anyone that the badass bowman had sensitive nipples. It’d be your own little intimate weapon. You paid attention to the raised skin of old injuries, a brief kiss to each one. He was so beautiful, scars and all. You wished he could see himself as you did. 

His breath stuttered with each wet press of your exploring mouth, muscles shuddering while pre-seminal fluid smeared over your skin on your journey. His cock twitched against you, the tip pressing into your sternum, your own nipples pebbling with your arousal. Daryl’s stomach spasmed when your tongue dipped into his navel, circling once before you continued downward.

It was difficult to suppress a chuckle when he growled, your intentional avoidance of his aching length not going unnoticed. His hip bones were prominent and deliciously inviting. You licked and nibbled over the ridge and then moved to the other side to do the same, eyes locking onto his hands fisting into the sheets. It wasn’t your intent to torture him, though the prospect of exploring that option in the future was indeed enticing. Before he could protest, your hand was wrapping around him, his body quaking with a heaving sigh of relief.

Rubbing your thumb over the tip, you collected some of the wetness there, finding it just enough to help your hand slide down in a smooth glide. Once, twice, and on the third stroke, he lost the battle with self control and his back arched, right hand holding the bed sheets so tightly that you could see the IV catheter that lingered in a vein just beside his knuckles. For a moment, you thought the simple touches were bringing him to orgasm but with a noise of discontentment, his eyes sought out yours. His gaze was dark, clouded with lust. There was no way you could deny him.

You never looked away while wrapping your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the girth before dipping it into the slit. You yearned to continue, literally ached to take him over the edge positioned just as you were but his breathing was too fast, too unsteady. With a pout, you pulled off of him and climbed upward to place a hand on the side of his neck.

“M’good.” He argued without hesitance, but fell into a coughing fit. Worry overriding desire, you shifted back slightly and let him sit up to get himself under control. His forehead rested just above the valley of your breasts, your fingers idly carding through his hair. When you tried to place the cannula back onto his face, he languidly swatted at your efforts.

“You’re not.” You pressed a kiss into his hair, hand releasing the device and gliding over the scars on his back. He didn’t react and that would always make your heart flutter, this time to a degree you were sure he could pick up in such close proximity. “Catch your breath. I’ve got you.” It took a few moments and you remained patient. Surprisingly, so did his erection. When he was breathing easier, he lifted his head, cheek and nose nuzzling your neck.

“Y/N.” He rasped, his hands smoothing over your sides and around to your back. “Need ya.” There was so much more than a sexual desire within that statement. It wasn’t something he actively tried to conceal. He wanted you to know of your importance in his life. For that time, it was as close to a declaration of love as you would get without some sort of influential stimulant.

“Daryl.” With a hand on each side of his face, you guided him, your lips meeting his. “Lay back for me.” The command was soft against his mouth, but he did as he was told. Even as he moved, you were reaching between your bodies and guiding him to your entrance. He met no resistance, eased by your arousal, and slipped inside. Your walls stretched and molded around him, dragging a whimper from somewhere deep within you that melded with the groan vibrating over his tongue. 

His hands scrabbled to your hips, jaw clenched and twitching, words grating out of him. “Are ya—”

“I’m fine. Just—” You exhaled and gave yourself a moment to adjust. “Just relax, okay.” You felt his grip loosen, only slightly but enough for you to pay closer attention to how his jaw was just shy of going slack. “Let me take care of you.” You placed your hands over his—mindful of the IV—with the first roll of your hips, his head pressing back into the pillow. Fighting the urge to chase the pleasure you knew awaited you was just simply so arduous but necessary. You needed him as desperately as he needed you. Maybe it was selfish to have him like this while he recovered, but you had come so close to losing him. He had been so scared that he was losing you. This was something so far beyond carnal. 

The rhythm you settled on was slow, leaning forward slightly to press your palms into the pillow on either side of his head. It allowed you to dip forward, stealing kisses and nuzzling against his cheek while you rode him so agonizingly slowly. His breathing only picked up slightly, if not a little ragged, rough palms exploring your hips, your thighs, the round of your belly. Periodically, his hips would jerk, a silent plea for more that you couldn’t give him, not then. He let you soothe him, allowed you to keep him on his back when you both knew he could change that if he truly wanted, sick or not. 

“Christ,” Daryl grunted, squeezing your waist. “Are ya tryin’ to kill me?”

You risked a chuckle, rising on your knees until he almost slipped out of you before sinking back down. “Quite the opposite.” 

“Goddamnit, woman, I ain’t gonna break! Can ya just—” 

You silenced him with your tongue shoving straight past his lips, swallowing the frustrated growl and drawn out moan that followed, your walls purposefully squeezing him. You’d get him there. 

Eventually.

In fact, you were almost certain it was you suffering the most. You were in control but forced to refrain, the hormones raging through your blood demanding a satisfying release that was just not approaching fast enough. Your clit was stiff and throbbing and yet to be touched. You were barely catching yourself before taking on a pace that would send him into a frenzy.

As if reading your mind, his left hand wedged its way between your bodies for his thumb to press against your neglected bundle of nerves, igniting a fire deep in your belly. “Daryl.” You panted, rocking against him while his digits continued to work at you. “Oh, god, don’t stop.”

“Didn’t plan on it.” He rasped, urging you forward to kiss you hard, teeth and tongues clashing. It wasn’t long before you could hear it in the way he grunted against your mouth, suppressing whines as well as wheezing. You could feel it in how he twitched and swelled within you. Regardless, he didn’t leave you to guess. “M’gonna—”

“Just let go.” You would be right behind him. Hell, maybe right in front him. You had just taken the liberty of attempting to swallow down any sound he might make when he reminded you how he could play your body like a finely tuned instrument and added just enough pressure to his strokes to send you spiraling, forcing your own shout against his tongue. 

The high you rode was seemingly endless, pulse after pulse and wave after wave. The contractions of your velvety walls had Daryl following you almost immediately, his release warm as your body welcomed it, pulled it deeper. His hips were driving upward in steady, shallow thrusts to meet your downward presses, keeping you suspended in bliss with him until you were too sensitive to move. Even in the aftermath, you had enough presence of mind to squeeze his bicep when the pressure became overwhelming. 

Your forehead rested against his when reality began to flicker back into focus, his wheezing breaths the first thing you were able to hone in on and react to accordingly. With clumsy movements, you grabbed the nasal cannula and positioned it on his face, pulling him to sit up so you could rub at his back, encouraging him to cough.

“Shouldn’t have let you take that off to begin with.”

“Quit fussin’, it ain’t that bad.” He promptly coughed but shot you a look when you opened your mouth. “Feel like a old man in a nursin’ home.” He rasped, trying again to clear his lungs. 

“But your dick still works just fine. May have gotten me pregnant, Dixon.” Your concern melted into laughter that had his eyes squinting.

“Think s’funny?” He snapped harmlessly, a hand pressed against his chest.

“Just imagine how Hershel would have reacted if I’d needed to go get him.” 

“Nah. Don’t really wanna.”

He was still inside of you, softening but the sensation somehow a comfort that you weren’t ready to give up. Fingers smoothed back his hair, just long enough now to be tousled and spiked, the epitome of proper sex hair. Fingertips whispered over his jaw, once and then again, the love you felt for the man threatening to doom your heart into an explosion. 

“Daryl, I—”

He caught your wrist, that uncertain, conflicted look in his eyes. Like he didn’t understand how you could be compelled to feel so strongly for him. Like he just knew you could find better in almost any man that wasn’t him. Maybe he didn’t remember what he had said, after all. Maybe you had read into his earlier words simply on a mission to find what you wanted to hear. 

His thumb grazed over your knuckles, back and forth. “I know.”

You wanted him to hear it again. Over and over until he believed it. Leaning forward, you brought up your other hand to mimic the previous actions of the first, lips brushing his, preparing to remind him of exactly how you felt and would continue to feel. 

As if on cue, there came a small knock on the door, your wide eyes meeting before you both turned to stare at the entryway. 

“If you two are done,” came Carol’s small voice, quivering with laughter, “I have Tylenol.”

[dsireland86]

Sunburn

Warnings*** smut, language, a little angst below the cut

TAGS: @shilohrosechicken, @pathion, @philomenie

                                             Sunburn

“Shit baby, that fucking hurts!” Noah yelled at me. 

He writhed in pain as I applied the cool aloe to his shoulders that were burning red from days in direct sunlight. I told him to keep the black button-up shirt on the entire set so this wouldn't happen, but he didn’t listen. His ego was too loud and in the end he did what Noah wanted to do. Now he was suffering the consequences. I’ll admit that I did feel a bit sorry for him, especially when seeing the small sun blisters that were visible even through the ink of his tattoos, but now I'd had enough of his whining and piss-poor attitude. “Just shut-up,” I chided, nudging the side of his head with my elbow. “And quit whining. It's just aloe.” 

I squeezed more of the sticky clear stuff out of the aloe leaf and lathered Noah’s burnt skin with it. 

“God- fucking- bless, woman! Gentle!” 

Sighing, I lowered one hand and placed the back of the other one on my forehead, giving him my best death glare.

“You’re making this so freaking impossible, Noah!” 

He crossed his arms and threw his head back with closed eyes. 

“It fucking hurts, Y/N,” he seethed. 

“I know it does, baby, but that’s not my fault. I told you,”

His head flew up, eyes wide. “Don’t you dare say “I told you so”.” 

Hiding my grin, I lowered my head, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath. 

“Whatever you say, Noah.” 

I was over this already. I was so tired, drained from all the heat, the running around, the back and forth, and the constant bickering between me and Noah in the past three days. I wanted to pass out and sleep until Christmas.

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose then took my hand, and placed  a soft kiss on the top of it. 

“I’m sorry, okay. Can you please try to be more gentle?”

His big brown eyes pleaded with me.

“That's more like it,” raising an eyebrow as I kissed his forehead. He wrapped his arms around one of my thighs and placed a soft kiss on my belly, making my insides flutter. 

“You’re too sweet to him, Y/N. I'd  lather that shit up and slap it on him,“ Jolly admitted over my shoulder as he walked by. “He’s being a fucking pussy about it.” 

“Fuck you, Jolly,” Noah barked.

“Whatever Noah,” Jolly chuckled, sitting down in the chair across from his best friend, staring heavily at him.

“You should have kept the shirt on like Y/N said. She knows these kinds of things, Noah.” 

Matt slipped his opinion in, giving me a wink. I smiled, tucking the loose hair that had fallen behind my ear.

Biting my tongue to keep myself from saying how I was really feeling, I continued to gently apply the aloe to Noah’s skin. But the more I thought about how he was acting and how he'd been making me feel the last few days, I was going to let the truth spill out. 

“You know what, it’s fine Matt.” I wiped my hands on my pants, throwing the aloe leaf in the trash.

“We all know how Noah can be a stubborn, hard headed ass sometimes. He deserves what he gets.” 

I leaned back against the counter next to the trash can and folded my arms over my chest, staring hard at the floor. I knew I crossed a line with Noah, but I didn't care anymore. I was done feeling hurt. Quickly glancing over at Noah, I found him watching me, eyes glued to my face with a look of shock. His hands, still wrapped in tape, gripped the sides of his chair and he was still as stone. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

I could tell what I'd said caught him off guard because the tone of his voice was sheer surprise.

“You heard me, I know you did.” 

“No, I'm sorry, no, I didn't. I'm a little hard of hearing in this ear,” he lied, pointing to his left ear and rising out of his chair. He started unwrapping his hands, balling up the tape, and tossing it in the trash as he walked over to me. He narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard his cheeks hollowed. 

Noah could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, with his 6 '3, monstrously toned body, but I knew he’d never, ever hurt me. He was just in a mood; a picking, fighting mood that I was trying really hard to overlook.

With a deadpan expression, Noah and I had a stare down, waiting to see who would look away first. 

“If you don’t tell me what you said, Princess, I might just have to take you somewhere quiet and fuck that pretty mouth of yours until I get it to come out,” Noah threatened, engulfing my entire body in deep arousal that went right between my legs. His lips brushed against my jaw line, sending chills down my spine the moment he leaned over and whispered in my ear. 

“And when I fill it with my cum, making you drink every bit of me, maybe you’ll think twice before using it for something else other than me.” His eyes were dark with lust and drinking me shamelessly. Holy fuck. I was so turned on. The smug look on his face made my knees buckle and the ache between my thighs burned like a raging fire, bringing me closer to the edge. All Noah needed to do was take me to that quiet place he spoke of and do whatever he had to do to push me over. 

His long tattooed fingers wrapped around my chin forcing me to look at him. 

“Is that what you want, Y/N? You want me to make you pay for all the sass that pretty mouth of yours likes to spill? You want me in your mouth?”

His voice was low and deep, the raspiness from all the yelling and screaming on stage still present and I was quivering from his touch alone.

“Answer me,” he demanded. His penetrating gaze was slowly undressing me and I was gladly letting him do it. 

I nodded. Slowly.

His fingers gripped my chin tighter and thankfully I had enough leverage to look down and see just how turned on he was by our little exchange. He was so hard for me and just as ready as I was. 

“Fuck me,” he breathed as a wide grin spread over his lips.

I was probably going to pay for what I was about to say because it would be the force to drive Noah over the edge, but that’s what I wanted.  

“Gladly,” I whispered, watching his fixed stare melt away. 

A deep rumbling growl fell from his lips and before I knew what was happening, Noah picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, the pain and discomfort of the sunburn quickly forgotten. I squealed and kicked my feet, demanding he put me down with slaps to his back.

“I swear to God if you don’t put me down Noah, I’ll,” 

“You’ll what, Princess?” 

“I will pinch you! Everywhere my fingers can reach!”

That got his attention and he lowered me down faster than he’d picked me up.

He was breathless and I was losing my composure over how fucking hot he looked right now. All my defenses were down; he knew that.

“Why are you such an ass?” 

“Why are you such a bitch?” 

My eyebrows arched.

“You started this!”

He smirked. 

“Did I? Are you sure about that,” he questioned, making perfectly good eye contact with me. 

My brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You know you did!”

“Are you sure?” 

The way Noah's body moved closer, barely brushing against mine but making the tender flesh around my nipples and entrance tingle, pleading for him to touch me, was making me lose sight of my frustration and how irritating he'd been. 

“You sure it wasn’t you and the way you were standing off to the side of that stage, all fucking hot and sweaty, soaking wet for me between those fucking thighs of yours?” Noah cocked his head to the side, reaching over and running a finger down between my breasts, hooking its tip over the front of my shirt and pulling me closer. “Those thick, warm thighs that hold me so well and let me kiss and bite them until I can taste the sweet juices that start to drip down the second I do this.” Noah slipped his hand down the front of my leggings so fast, placing his fingers between the warmth of my folds and slid his finger inside me as he shoved me up against the wall. “Fuck Noah!” I snapped when the back of my head hit the wall. But I could no longer feel anything other than the erotic way his finger was working me up to that edge I was so desperately wanting. “Look at you panting and needy already. Look what I can do to you just by a few words,” Noah teased, inserting another finger in me, knuckle deep, and moving in and out of me faster. “You're so filthy wet for me, Princess,” pushing my legs further apart with his knee before planting sloppy nibbled kisses on my neck. His word choices made unsubtle moans fall from my lips and I threw my head back, locking eyes with Noah, watching his face as he worked to bring me to that sweet release I'd been hungry for all day. Shamelessly, I grinded on his fingers that pushed further in me each time he pulled them back and back in. And then when he found that spot I couldn't hold back the scream that filled my throat.

“Uh, fuck Noah,” clenching my teeth and hitting him in the shoulder as my one hand clamped down on his arm while the other one covered his hand that had his fingers up in me. “God I fucking hate you sometimes,” I claimed, between a cry and a moan. “No you don't, you just like to think you do, Princess,” grinning and breathing a quick laugh before sinking his lips into mine and shoving his tongue in my mouth. It was wet and sloppy, but I welcomed it. I wanted all of Noah. Every last drop. “I hate you Noah,” I said again, his name coming out more as a moan than anything. His laughter echoed off the walls of the hallway as did my cries of pleasure. “I love you, baby, every fucking part of you.” I took his face in between my hands and frantically kissed him like I was terrified he might just slip away. The muscles in my stomach began to tighten and the all too familiar heat pooling in my back and between my thighs was the only warning I needed. It never failed; Noah knew exactly how to use his fingers to make me forget ever being mad or upset with him. “Right there, baby oh fuck don't stop,” I begged him, grabbing his arms again. Noah worked me faster and harder until my orgasm hit me so hard he had to throw his hand over my mouth to keep my quiet. Noah was laughing. ‘I love how loud you get. It lets me know I'm doing my job correctly.” I was completely out of breath, and once my body relaxed, I was able to fully look at Noah. He slid his fingers  slowly out of me and brought them to his face, smelling them before slipping them into his mouth sucking. “Mmm, I fucking love how you smell, how you taste.” He pushed his body into me, pinning me between him and the wall. We slowly kissed, tongues slipping and sliding together, and fingers and hands entwined. 

 “You had me pretty worked up on stage earlier. All I could think about was you and the way you fuck, the way you cum for me.” Noah slipped his hand behind my head and brought our faces closer together nudging our noses together. I ran my hands down his neck and chest, over the ink written stories his body told. 

“You really wanna fuck me, don't you,” he chuckled in between our kisses.

“Yes, I do,” mumbling while gripping his shoulders with no regards to the sunburn and if I was hurting him. 

“I want to drink you like you threatened me. I want you in my mouth,” admitting fearlessly. I gazed up at him only to find him staring as if he was ready to consume me. 

Noah lowered his forehead to mine, placing a soft kiss on my nose.

Suddenly I was being yanked down the hall and tossed to a room at the far end of the hall where Noah was sure we’d be entirely alone. He slammed the door closed and locked it, before turning to look at me. I couldn't wait for him to move. I needed him to know how badly I wanted him. Closing the gap between us, I grabbed Noah by the front of his pants and quickly undid the tie knot. “Slow down, Princess, I'm not going anywhere.” I smiled at him as his pants fell to the floor, revealing his hard cock that was ready and waiting for me to taste. My mouth was watering already from just the thought. 

“Are you ready? I have no intention fucking your mouth softly.”

The muscles in my stomach tightened as the coiling tension continued to build up. 

“I don't want you too,” I replied. I gave him a smirk as he pulled me into him, kissing me so hard that it took my breath away. My hands found the waistband of his boxer-briefs, yanking them down until his cock sprang free, revealing its beautiful self to me. I groaned the second I saw it and instantly took the long, thick, hard shaft into my hand and began to stimulate it more than it already was. 

“Oh God, Baby,” Noah moaned, sucking air through his teeth and throwing his head back. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good,” he whispered under his breath. I gripped him harder, working him up the faster I moved my hand back and forth. “Is this what my boy needed,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb over. his tip. Noah let out a loud moan, throwing his hands on my arms and squeezing them. “Fuck yeah it is,” he breathed try to keep himself together. “You want to cum already, don't you?’

Noah released a slight whine, looking down at me.

“I wanna cum in your mouth,” he stated unapologetically.  

I grinned and began to lower myself, feeling the pressure of his hinds pushing me quicker to my knees.  Noah’s cock was beautiful and having it in my mouth always made me feel prideful; like I owned him. I did just like he owned me, and didn't want it any other way. 

Slowly, I dragged my tongue up his long shaft, feeling the ridges and crevices that were the culprits of my many orgasims and wrapped my mouth around the thickest part of him to satisfy the hunger I'd had for days. I could hear Noah's breathing grow louder and heavier, and when I gathered him in my hands to keep him still, his hands found the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. I sucked him harder, tasting the saltiness of his precum on the tip of my tongue as he pushed my head further into him until the tip hit the back of my throat, making me gag. 

Noah, lightly laughed, pulling me back by my hair.

“That's it Princess, gag on it, let me fuck your mouth until your eyes water.”  

He moaned loudly, no longer caring who could hear as I swirled my tongue around him, letting my spit spill out all over him. 

“That's it, fuck me baby, fuck my cock with that pretty mouth of yours.” His grunts and growls grew louder as he continued to buck his hips into my mouth. It pleased me knowing I could bring this kind of pleasure to Noah. He deserved it; despite how much he whined and pouted and was a pain in my ass. I loved him and would do anything he asked me to do. 

“You suck me like a damn dream, Y/N,” he grunted. “So fucking greedy for this dick down your throat, Princess. I'm so fucking gone for you,” he moaned louder, tugging at the roots of my hair. 

I let Noah continue to fuck my mouth at an erratic speed. I gripped his thighs with as much strength as I could manage, holding him still so he wouldn't gag me anymore. I was engulfed in the sensual wet heat that was a combination of pleasure and pain, lost in the feeling of him surrounding me. 

“That's it, Princess, fuck yes, right there, use your tongue, oh god!” 

Noah’s praises fell from his lips like rain, hydrating every part of my body, my mind, even my very soul. “Look how you're fucking taking every inch of my me like a goddess, holy fuck Y/N!” Noah's voice was getting louder and his thrusts were getting sloppier. I couldn't see his expression but I imagined he had his hands up in his own hair, watching me work his cock until he came. “Shit, baby I'm close!”

Noah's breathing increased, his hips were starting to go limp, and with the consistent twitching of his cock against my tongue, I knew he was close.

“God- dammit Y/N you're making it, I fucking can't, shit baby I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm cum,” and without anymore warning, Noah let go, spilling his warm salty seed in my mouth. It hit the back of my throat like a bullet, forcing me to swallow most of it, while some spilled down my chin. 

I collapsed, my jaws sore and I was  out of breath, sitting on my knees and letting the taste and feeling of him pass before I could do anything else. Noah sat down next to me, looking just as worn out as I felt. But we weren't finished. In fact we were just getting started.

“I don't know where the hell that came from, but I feel like I should get you mad at me more often.” We looked at each other and chuckled. His sweetness was back, and it made me want to climb up in his lap and wrap my legs around him. I brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed him slowly.

“When are you going to stop being so mean to me?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he smirked, slipping his hands under my shirt and running them up my back.

“Yeah, I figured.” I lowered my head into his chest and breathed in his scent of what smelled like the ocean and salt. 

“I'm sorry. I do get mean when I get stressed out don't I?” 

“Mmmmhmmm.”

We sat in a brief silence. 

“What can I do to make it up to you?”  His fingers had already undone the clasp to my bra, but was waiting for permission to continue.  

“You already have. I’m good now.” 

He lifted my face.

Noah’s eyes shifted to my lips, making him lean in and take my bottom one between his teeth, sucking it lightly. Then our mouths met and for a few seconds we kissed, relishing in the feeling. 

“Sugar, I've developed a taste for you, now,” he began to softly sing. 

“Are you seriously singing Sleep Token to me right now?” I laughed, pushing Noah on the chest.”

“My arms keep you in the room, barely let you move, show me what to do.” His voice rang out in my ear as he lifted my shirt and pulled off, then removed his own.  

“Do you wanna see how far it goes? Do you wanna test me now my Love?” 

Noah’s brown eyes bore into mine, releasing the feral intentions he'd been hiding. 

“Well do you,” pulling down the straps to my red laced bra and planting soft kisses on my collar bone, with his warm breath gliding over my skin. His hands ran up my neck, gently pushing my head back and his lips found their target; sucking, biting, and sliding all over. 

“I need to cum inside you Y/N. I want to see me spill out of you and down these fucking hot thighs of yours,” gripping my legs and tugging me into him until I felt his swollen cock against my entrance. 

“I want you to, too,” I breathed, running my hands through his hair and grabbing it at its end. He seethed as he reached behind me and pulled my leggings and underwear completely off. 

“Hang on.” Noah paused, sliding me off him, but staying on his knees. “I just want a taste,” he admitted, grinning up at me before forcing my legs apart and lowering his mouth to my wet core. Out of impulse, I tilted my pelvis up towards him as an invitation and heard a deep, subtle growl escape him. He swiped his finger through my wetness, coating his finger with it, and then dived in, licking and lapping up every drop he’s made me create for him. His warm breath and the feeling of his tongue and lips circling my clit made me shamelessly moan his name louder than before. 

“God, you taste so fucking good,” he mumbled, and I almost came for him then, but he pulled away, leaving me empty and whimpering. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, I’m not finished yet,” Noah promised, removing his pants entirely this time then sitting back down.

“Come here,” he demanded, pulling me into his lap and lining himself up with my opening. We both looked down and watched him enter me, the feeling of immediate fullness engulfing all my senses. Noah held me as close to his chest as possible as we slowly but savagely fucked eachother, knowing this was out of pure lust and desire. 

We went faster, Noah grabbing my hips and pushing my clit down harder on his rigid cock. I could feel his pulsing veins, naked inside me, filling me to the point of making me cum again. I clenched tightly around him, digging my nails into his shoulders and biting him.  

“Not yet, Baby. I’m not finished with you yet,” he growled, moments after the noises coming out of him were so intoxicating me that I never wanted him to stop. 

He pulled out, flipping me over onto my knees, pushing my face and chest down to the floor, but lifting my ass up closer to his dick. 

“You know I love you right, Princess,” he grunted, pressing his large hand to the middle of my back. 

“Yes, Noah, I know you love me,” anxiously waiting for what he was about to do next. 

“Good, because I’m going to fuck you like I don’t,” and with those words, he slammed into me, grabbing my hips and pulling me and pushing himself deeper and deeper into me with each aggressive thrust. 

“God, fucking,” I tried to catch my breath, but it was impossible. 

“Noah!” I cried the harder he fucked himself in and out of me digging nails into my hips.

“I want to ruin you, Princess,” Noah barked through gritted teeth, rutting against me at an relentless pace, stretching me with a hint of pain. “I want to damage you until all you know inside you is the shape of my dick inside the walls of your pussy that’s mine.” I didn’t hold back my screams for more or cris of how good it felt. I wanted everyone to know I was Noah’s and how well he could satisfy me and my needs. 

I wasn’t going to last much longer; I told Noah that. My knees and elbows were sore, and I was losing all composure. 

“Tighten around me then, baby, let me feel you,” Noah said, leaning down and letting his thumb find my clit. He wasn't gentle either as he encircled it, hips still thrusting in and out of me. “Cum for me Y/N. I know you want to. Cum so I can fill you up!” He hit my spot with the perfect rhythm, pulling a string of cures from me.

“Don’t fight me, Baby. Don’t fight how much you fucking want to.” Noah was right. For some reason I was fighting, but with his last words and the pressure of his hand wrapped tightly around the back of my neck, pressing me hard into the floor, I let go and almost instantly, after my legs pressed tighter around him, I came with a sharp cry, my entire body shuddering around him. Noah followed soon after, his cock pulsing inside me until we were both spent and gasping for air. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Noah said, breathlessly. I collapsed to the floor, my entire body flat. I was shaking, overstimulated by what I’d just experienced and couldn’t form a functioning thought for anything. 

A loud knock on the door startled us both, and I jolted up, running into Noah’s chest. He threw his black tank to me quickly, and I slipped it on right after slipping on my undies.

“Yeah, what is it,” Noah called out, voice raspy and dry. 

“Hey, uh if you two are done making your porno, Matt wants us all together for a quick update before we head out.” 

Noah and I could hear the amusement in Jolly’s tone and also the other two voices right outside the door. I was instantly embarrassed. Noah caressed my cheek with his finger, ensuring me he wasn’t. 

“Yeah, give us a few minutes and we’ll be out,” Noah answered, staring into my eyes before kissing me deeply. 

“Alright. Hey, how’s the sunburn now?”

“Fuck you, Jolly,” Noah yelled.”

A roar of laughter filled the outside, shaking my head as I finished dressing. 

“You sounded really good too, Y/N. At least Noah knows what he’s doing,” Jolly cackled, knowingly getting under Noah’s skin. 

“Oh my, will you all just quit already!” Noah yelled again. 

He looked at me and I shrugged, realizing there was no point in denying anything. Noah always knew what he was doing. Especially when it came to me.

[girlthatsinsane]

ALL MINE

Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

tags: smut, fingering, degrading, slapping, piv

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Carl has always been the overprotective type, it takes nothing for him to get jealous. Talk to a guy, he’s jealous. Wave at a guy, he’s jealous. one look at a guy and he goes feral. Ever since you guys started dating it’s always been that way, and it’s not because he’s insecure he just hates the fact that other boys can have access to you. Especially Ron, Carl hates Ron at all cost. Maybe because a few years back they got into a fight, but you knew Carl hated whenever you would smile and wave at Ron, he got even more pissed when you talked to him.

See, you knew this. You knew how his eyebrows would furrow and his jaw would tighten up from the sight of seeing your smiling, laughing with the other boy. You’d always look over out the corner of your eye to see Carl, watching you with a frown on his face. And it’s not like you wanted to make your boyfriend jealous. It was because before you and Carl got together, you and Ron use to be close friends. So really, what would you look like if you just dropped him out of nowhere? Even though Carl didn’t like it, you’d always find a way to make it up to him later.

It is a challenge to get Carl to lighten up after he saw you talking to his enemy, but it wasn’t so bad. And what you mean by that is the sex. Sex with Carl was amazing, he tries his hardest to make sure you’re satisfied before it’s over. Any position you want, he’ll do it. You loved being intimate and passionate with him, but occasionally you guys switch things up. It can get rough, and kinky which leads to blindfolding, getting tied up, degrading, and ultimately the best sex ever.

This type of sex only happens when Carl is jealousy. thats part of the reason you keep talking to Ron, the sex is really that good. You loved the way he’d be gentle with you afterwards, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and cleaning you up which leads up to cuddling with him in the end. It was the perfect ending to a rough beginning, which is why you want it to keep happening.

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Sunday morning you got up, did your normal hygienic things and put your hair in two cute braids on each side. You go over to Carl’s, spending the day with him while Rick and Michonne are out busy today. You do normal things, talk, play games, watch movies, but part of your wanted something to happen. It’s been racking your brain all day trying to figure out how to ease your way into some action, time was flying and it was getting a bit boring for your liking.

“Hey, how about we go on a walk?” Carl suggests completely snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over to smile and nod, getting up waiting for Carl to put his shoes on. As soon as he was done you step outside to feel the sun beaming on your skin, squinting your eyes due to how bright it was. You walked around Alexandria hand in hand with Carl. Holding hands was one of your ultimate love languages, he’d do anything to make sure your hand was in his whenever you stepped outside, it was like another way to send a message: “shes mine” to everyone that saw you two together.

As you continued walking you spotted someone familiar, Ron. You look away and focus on getting past him so Carl wont freak again like last time.

but isn’t that what you want?

I mean, this could be a way good way to get what you’ve been day dreaming about all day. Maybe one small chat wouldn’t hurt. “Sorry, Carl” you think to yourself. As if on cue, Ron turns around and spots you. He smiles and waves you over, you smile back but feeling something squeeze your hand. It was Carl, basically warning you to not go over there with him.

You look down having second thoughts about the plan you just created ten seconds ago, even though it hurts him now it’ll be so good for the both of you two in the end. And you just have to have him, you smile at Carl “Im gonna be right back, ok?” He glares at you, his face full or warning as he lets go of your hand. He huffs but stays silent, allowing you to go talk to the boy right in front of you. Smirking to yourself you skip over to Ron starting a conversation. You see Carl, watching his teeth clench and walking in circles getting irritated on how long you two have been talking already.

Maybe you should take it to the next level. Now, what is the next level? You don’t know of course but one thing you do know, if a man touches you even slightly. He gets pissed. Thats what lead to your next action, slightly touching Ron’s arm being all smiley and giggling to every word he says. It was obvious that jealousy had completely filled Carl’s body, because a few seconds later he marched over to where you two were standing, grabbing your arm tightly yanking you away from Ron. “Time to go.” His expression indicated that Carl was mad, he was livid.

I hope you know what you got yourself into

You barely had time to process what was happening until he was dragging you across the street by your arm, his grip tightly stinging your wrist. “Carl- what are you do-“ “Shut up.” He interrupted simply warning you to not go any further with this. He let go of you once you got to the house, relieving the small sting attached to your wrist. “Upstairs.” He said, his voice deep and cold. You loved this, the way he talked and the sound of his voice was enough to get you off by itself. Trying not to smile you sprint upstairs to his room, heart racing trying to predict what would happen when he got up there.

While sitting on his bed, you hear his footsteps take his time up each step was slowly driving you insane, wondering if he was actually mad or going to ruin you in every way you wanted. Pulling you out of your thoughts once again, the door swings open but then shuts tightly, hearing the ‘click’ sound of him locking the door behind him. Feeling his eyes on you making your skin burn you look around to him eyeing you, the look in his eyes hungry and lustful. “Why were you talking to him?!” He says in an ominous tone.

“w-what?”

“I said” He takes a few steps closer, getting an inch close to your face. “Why were you talking to him.” Your loss for words just encouraged him even more. “To make me jealous? Touching his arm like that, baby you know how that makes me feel.” His tone softened. tilting his head to make direct eye contact with you. You bite your lip in response, you couldn’t tell him you just wanted him to fuck you dumb.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper weakly to him. Not taking much notice to the apology, he slammed his lips into yours kissing you roughly. You whimper in response to him pushing you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you his hands drop down to the button of your jeans trying to undo them. You pulled away taking off your shirt and unclipping your bra while he worked on your jeans, clawing at his shirt “Please..” Was all you could say in the heated moment that just had gotten started.

He pulls back from you. “So you did want this” He states pulling his shirt off in the process. While stripping each other from their clothes and unmentionables, Carl attacks your neck sucking harsh dark purple spots spreading from your neck to your chest in an instant. “Fuck Carl please- just-“ You moan grabbing his shoulders trying to get his attention. Thats when you felt it, burning and stinging forming onto your cheek. Carl slapped you. You look up at him wide eyed feeling the tears build up, grabbing onto your cheek. You were going to cry but not because you didn’t like it, it was because you loved it. The feeling of receiving the pain you just experienced had you soaked, he noticed that too. “You’re mine. Ok? You’re all mine.” He demands. The feeling, the tone, everything about this scene that made it so lewd turned you on even more.

His hands made its way down to your soaking cunt, his thumb circling your clit earning a gasped out of you. “You’re soaked, you like it when i hit you baby?” His eyes focused on trying to read your face. You shake your head vigorously up and down, blabbing on about how you loved the slapping. He smirked at how vocal you are already, adding a finger to your eager hole. “What baby you like that? You like when my fingers are inside you?” He chuckles a bit at your loud response forming an “o” shape with your mouth. “Please please- don’t stop carl please.” You beg to him as he pumps his finger in and out of you in a fast pace.

Reacting hungrily he leans up to take your nipple in his mouth sucking urgently. “Close..” you mumbled, your body still filled with pleasure. You feel your hole tighten around his finger as his thumb still rubbed your clit faster and faster. “Come on baby- cum on my fingers.” He says as you came down on his fingers as told. Carl pulled his fingers out of you, drenched in your liquids he shoved the fingers into your mouth telling you to taste yourself and suck. After sucking his fingers clean of your cum he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you on your stomach, pulling your waist up so your back was arched.

Your breath hitched as you felt his tip slowly entering your pussy, gripping onto the sides of the bed already. Feeling how good his dick was stretching you out made you see stars, he thrusted once, then twice, hearing you moan his name he started at a steading pace. “So tight baby, such a slut f’me.” he slurred while slapping your ass, feeling the sting of every slap he gave you made all of this worth it. “Could’ve just asked for me to fuck you instead of talking to him.” Carl says angrily hitting that spot as he speaks. You bury your face into the pillow below you, muffling your screams of pleasure. Soon with him speeding up the pace going in and out of you brutally you feel the knot in your stomach once again.

“Carl- please.” You whimper trying to silence your moans, pushing back onto him to meet his thrust. He pushes your head down into the pillow, one hand gripping your waist so tight you’d probably see bruising later. “F-fuck y/n.. baby ‘m gonna cum.” He breathes as his thrust gets sloppy. “I’m all yours Carl- please just-“ A moan ripping out of you as you reached your high. His hands wrap around you tightly, squeezing your lower stomach as he came in your hot, wet cunt.

As your bodies calmed down, he slowly pulled out of you causing you to whimper at the loss of being filled. He flops onto the bed right next to you where you’re collapse on your stomach. “You’re mine ok? He doesn’t get to have you like i do.” He states turning his head over to you. You pull yourself onto your side to look at him. “Of course he doesn’t, Carl. I love you.” You reassure him sweetly, placing a kiss on his lips.

“I love you more y/n.”

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a/n: don’t flame me if its bad!! writing smut is SO hard :(((. xo

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind

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a/n chapter seven! Gosh, who would have thought that this would grow into something this big. Idk... writing this story does something to my brain.

warning: kids, mention of past trauma, wing clipping and all the horrors of Illyrian camps, vomiting, I think that's all...

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Azriel was stalling, and he knew it. For the first time in his life, the spymaster just couldn't put the needs of his court first. He tried. Mother knows he tried hard. But every time Azriel even came close to winnowing back to Velaris, he stalled. Waited. The tug pulled him back. The need to stay in the sanctuary held him in a chokehold. Something deep within him kept telling him that if he left on his own, even if it was for a couple of hours - he would not forgive himself. And the consequences - he didn't want to bear them.

"Keep your head up", Azriel articulated in his much lower voice, "Don't tuck your shoulders". One of his hands was pressed to Axel's back, making sure the arch was right. Away from the eyes that hawked between the walls, Azriel had finally ushered Axel out for morning training. The male didn't remember anyone being so happy to wake up before the morning sun. To be out in the chilly morning wind. To train. But Axel didn't even yawn once; he didn't rub his eyes. He was here, and he wasn't going to back down.

"Good job! Just like that", Azriel fueled Axel with praising words. He gave shit to Cassian when they were sparing. But while Cassian and he worked better when they were pissed at each other. The real broody fea raging. Axel was a whole different story. He ran off of Azriel's attentive care. Of him showing up. Of him seeing the boy. "Let them rest", Azriel stated his last order firmly, and Axel, with a couple of sloppy beats with his wings, seized his movements to a halt, panting breathlessly. The leather healed nicely. Way too nice for what it should have been, but that without doubt had something to do with your powers. It had to. That was another itch in Azriel's brain. A summoner? What was that supposed to mean? Sure, he had seen you wield light, heal, and slow heartbeats, but that in one big package didn't shape one solid answer.

"You're okay?", Azriel glanced down at the boy sitting on the fallen tree trunk. The biggest smile spread over Axel's face as he nodded his head. "Do you think I'll get to fly with you eventually?", the boy pointed towards the sky, Azriel's eyes following his movements. The spymaster's heart clenched at that. He hoped that would be possible. He hoped that with solid, strong back muscles and flying lessons, Axel too would bathe in the song of the wind. "We'll do everything we can to make that happen", Azriel threw a smile boy's way, something he found himself doing a lot lately. "Does your back hurt?", "A bit", the boy admitted shyly. Azriel only nodded. "That's a good sign; it means you're doing everything perfectly", and with that alone, all doubt and fear vanished from Axel's eyes. "Come, I'll carry you back", the boy didn't miss the invitation as he leaped into the warmth, snuggling into the male. Azriel held Axel with delicate care, mindful of the sore wings. He continued to run his hand over Axel's scared back. A sickly feeling still crept through him every time he came in contact with it. Azriel could endure the pain of his scars, but seeing Axel bear it as well fueled an anger that had never raged before. So Azriel pulled the boy just a little closer as he continued walking.

"What about this? It's blue", Zofie had been pulling out dresses from her closet all morning long. You had told the kids about the invitation to Velaris. Hoping that they would refuse to go. Make your own choice easy. You hoped you could hide behind their answers so you wouldn't have to make the decision yourself; just the two of them had been over the moon. Eager to go. It was as if Azriel had hung the moon for them, and now, no matter where or what he suggested, they were swooning with happiness.

"It's your favorite", you say, looking up from your seat, pealing your eyes away from the shirt Axel had placed into your hands this morning, practically begging you to fix the hem of it. "You said you'd use it for a special occasion", you continued. Because that dress was more than special. You had made it for Zofie after she had admired that she had never had one. Only clothed in scrappy cloth bags her whole young life. "It is special. We've never gone anywhere", she said firmly, looking down at the deep blue of the tule. "Do they have a big dance floor?", her eyes darted back at you, gleaming. You wanted to tell her that Velaris was like nothing she had ever seen before. She'd find much more than just a breathtaking ballroom, but you tucked that deep within yourself. "I don't know, sweetie. You'll have to ask the spymaster of the night court". The girl tilted her head to the side, "He has a name - Azriel. You know it", she sassed back at you, scrunching her forehead slightly. Because while you pulled back, they ran straight into Azriel's arms. You weren't jealous. Well, a little. You knew you weren't being replaced. You just... You wished you could find strength in yourself to trust once again.

The door to the room swung open after a little knock, and in strolled the two boys. Both still slightly sweaty and... "Oh, this is not okay!", you huffed as you watched them both standing there with their shirts off. "What's all of this about?", you rested your hands on your hips, trying to scowl. There was no doubt that you failed miserably because it was practically impossible to ignore the way Azriel's toned chest looked. Your hands had touched that... You quickly cleared your throat, leaning closer to Axel. "Real soldiers don't wear shirts when they are in the middle of an intense workout", the boy stated so casually that you quickly tilted your eyebrows up, glancing at Azriel, who looked way too mischievous for his own good. That bastard knew what he was doing. But it was the way Axel wore the scars on his back as if they were nothing that tugged at your heart. As if they didn't weigh him down. As if he didn't care if anyone else saw them, and deep down, you knew it was Azriel that you needed to thank.

It was Zofie who washed away the prolonged silence, "We're packing for Velaris", she said, lifting her hands up and showing off her dress which was still wrinkled. Azriel's hopeful eyes darted your way immediately. You two hadn't talked about his promises. About the things he had said. You had been cold toward him. You didn't want to, but his words had struck deep, making your defense walls waver. "Do they have a ballroom?", Zofie chirped, stepping closer to the male, who almost by nature had sunk to one knee so he could be more at Zofie's eye level. "Yeah, they do. I hope you'll save a dance for me", Azriel stated firmly, and Zofie nodded eagerly at his words. Giggling as the shadows swirled around her, turning her hair into a big cloud around her, lifting it from her back as she swirled with them happily.

Azriel's smile faltered. A pain like no other struck him. She was wearing Axel's shirt, no doubt, the loose material falling off the back, as she finally collapsed to the floor, screeching. Yet all Azriel saw were two deep red marks that ran all the way up to her shoulders. He didn't need to see more to know what that meant. He didn't need... Azriel stood up so quickly that his head spun. Turning abruptly, he shot out the door. Images of that night. That torturous night when he and Cas had to pull Rhys away from the lifeless bodies of his mother and sister filled his head. Now clear as a day. The torn-apart flesh in their back. The blood. The broken bones. The gashed. Azriel didn't make it far. He bent just slightly as he leaned against the wall. His breakfast coming right up. He heaved and gagged for what felt like forever. Head pressed against the cold stone as he tried to calm his breathing. Tried to shove the image of the mutilated bodies. Zofie's lifeless... That alone had Azriel hurling all over again.

"Drink", the strong smell coming from the cup was enough to let Azriel know that it was ginger brew. And the warmth of a hand on his shoulder—enough to let him know that you were here. But he was too afraid to move. Any movement threatened to make him heave again; he was convinced of it. "You look pale as a ghost drink, Azriel", you pushed the cup closer to his lips, holding onto his jaw as you tilt the mug up. Azriel manages to take a couple of sips before pushing back. "She's...", he managed to whisper. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, "Wingless? Yes". Azriel let out what seemed to be a superseded whimper, and all you could do was lower your head. You could speak of it only because you've walked with that pain for so long and yet it still clawed at you in moments like this.

"Who?", the tone seemed pure death. "Azriel...", you said in a pleading tone. This man had proven to you more than once now that he was willing to bring hell out for the kids. Yet you still denied it. "Give me a name! Tell me what camp. I will skin him alive", you swiftly moved to cup his face as you shook your head. "Do you remember what you told me about the fact that all they need is love?", you asked, looking into his deep golden orbs. "They need the same from you, Az", the darkness plunged back into its cage. Yet his breathing was still heavy. "This isn't fair", his words spilled through his gritted teeth, his hands pressing onto your hips. His way of grounding himself. "You and I both know that life is cruel", you offered him a sad smile, but he only shook his head. "But", you breathed out, knowing deep down that you needed to say this. "Azriel... She's up there right now, thinking that she has done something bad. That Axel's scars didn't scare you, but her...", and that's enough for Azriel to pull back as he turns around, only a black mist of his shadows left in his track.

And she's there in his arms when you finally make your way up. Splotchy face pressed against his shoulder. Zofie is a tiny girl as it is, but in Azriel's embrace, she almost looks microscopic. His palm covers most of her back. She has a fistful of his shirt in her tiny fists. "You're just as special", you hear Azriel muttering under his breath. Axel inches closer to you, arms wrapping around your leg as he nuzzles into you. You're convinced that the only time this man was brought to his knees was when he was pleading to stay with that female, but in his time here, he kept kneeling in front of the two of them. And it doesn't seem to bug him. It doesn't seem to clash with the cold mask he has built.

It's hard to hear their conversation, but then it's for them alone. And the bits you do hear—"I'm sorry," "You're one of the strongest girls I've met", and endless mutters of "I'll keep you safe" and "You'll never have to be afraid anymore"—are more than enough to make your eyes sting. Because you know that Azriel would not let go of her, or Axel, for that matter. They were logged into his heart. Fully. Permanently. It soothes you that Zofie doesn't understand and doesn't remember the way things had happened. Her father had taken it upon himself to carve her tiny wings out the same day she was born. A poor baby caught an infection. Leaving her slightly sickish and way smaller than she should be for her age. But she still kicked around fearlessly. Determined to not let monsters like that win. You dabbed a tear away from your cheek quickly. Letting the feeling of Axe's soft hair pull you back out.

"Can I fly?", the girl lifted her head from Azriel's shoulder, tiny palms rubbing her eyes. You sucked in a breath. She had never thought about that or asked about it. You want to cut in; try to say something. But Azriel pulled the blanket off the bed before carefully wrapping Zofie in it. "You say a word, and you'll be soaring through the clouds", Azriel says softly, and her eyes spark with anticipation. She glances your way, and you give her a tiny nod. "Then I want to fly", she whispers, and that's enough for Azriel to scoop her up as he moves towards the balcony. Her tiny hands spring out of the blanket as she wraps them around Azriel's neck, and they are airborne. Together.

You find him hours later. Everyone has long gone to bed, but you've spent way too long tossing and turning. The pull in your chest was too unbearable. So, with kisses on both of the kids' foreheads, you let your feet lead the way. And it only hits you that you're standing right in front of his door when it opens and you see his figure. Your body seizes, just like it always does when you're in front of him. Or, well, when he's shirtless.

You lift your haze and say, "I... wanted to check on you. Make sure that it's...", you topple over your words before managing to take a breath in, "Are you okay?". Azriel says nothing; he just steps to the side, a silent invitation. He's nursing a glass of whiskey. He's been off alcohol for most of his time here, so this... This had to reopen deep wounds.

"She was ecstatic. I've never seen her eyes so bright", you try to breathe in that sense of peace in him. "How is this still happening? Rhys has put out clear laws", is all he says in return. You step closer to him, reaching for a glass in his hand, and Azriel gives it up rather easily. "These males run things by their books, and you know it, Az. The sanctuary has a dedicated armed force, and there are missions. We do what we can," you state calmly, but Azriel simply shakes his head. "Come here", he mutters, his hands reaching up for you. "I don't want you going back to these camps", his words are firm as you rest your head against his chest. "You can't boss me around, remember?", you jab at his chest painfully. "Then I'll be going with you", Azriel says, as if it's so self-explanatory. You pull back slightly, shaking your head. "Start by taking us to Velraris, foreign soldier", you murmur, and that's the first time you get to see a smile paint his lips. "While you're in a silk nightgown?", he muses, and you let out a gasp, wrapping your arms around your chest. The reality that your nightgown has been the only thing separating your bodies all this time slowly seeping in, making your cheeks grow crimson. "In your dreams, shadowsinger", you purr back at him.

The next morning is filled with anticipation. Little feet running all around the place, shoving some of the forgotten pieces into the overnight bags. Throughout the breakfast, the conversation lingered around Velaris. As Azriel pulls story after story, the two younglings gasping. The list of places to visit getting longer by the minute. You were happy for them. This chance to explore something new—that child-like thrill—made even the smallest of things seem huge.

"Bacon", Zofie quickly jabbed her finger toward the plate, making Azriel let out a light chuckle. But he makes quick work of assembling the perfect bite before carefully turning the fork towards the girl's mouth. "Good?", he asked, leaning to the side slightly so he would be able to see her face. Zofie just smiled up at him, kicking her little feet happily as she chewed. She was perfectly capable of feeding herself but more than aware that she had Azriel wrapped around her little finger, meaning that one tired look was enough for the spymaster to usher her onto his lap so he could help her eat breakfast.

"You can't carry us three", Axel said as he too cut into the last bits of food on his plate. Azriel lifted a brow in a challenge, "I bet I can". The boy shook his head, "You only have two hands; there's three of us here". The shadowsinger only smirked, "Who knew you were so good at math", Axel let out a gasp before his face grew mischievous. "Will we go one by one?", Zofie asked, turning her head to look up at Azriel. And just as always, he was quick to sense the panic in her voice. The thought of having to be at some place alone while the others came around clearly made her antsy.

"No, we're all going together. I'll winnow us there", Azriel said firmly, followed by an explanation of what that meant. "Will this hurt?", Axel was quick to cut in. "No, you'll hold onto Y/n; I'll hold onto you all,", the spymaster said calmly, knowing well that the first time might feel rather unsettling when you're not so used to the sensation. "Can we get lost?", Zofie's voice was barely audible. Azriel placed a quick kiss on the crown of her head before leaning closer to her, "No", his eyes were fully focused on the little girl, "Because I won't let that happen".

The cool air nibbled at your skin first. Pinching your cheeks and painting them slightly more pink. It was way cooler here, even if the sanctuary was in the mountains. Magic had its perks. Azriel's grip around you loosened as he stepped back, the warmth of him melting away. A part of you wanted to hold onto him for a moment longer. You two still hadn't had a proper conversation about everything. Not that there was anything much to say, but you felt like letting him know that you trusted him.

"Look up at the sky, Zo", Axel practically shrieked with excitement as he softly pulled on Zofie's dress. She carefully peeled her palms away from her eyes. Even with Azriel humming through the quick journey here, her little panic took the best of her. "You can see all the construction", Azriel pointed up at the sky as he rubbed her back softly. "Rhys is a show-off like that", he muttered, mostly for you, and you couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Perseus...", Zofie motioned with her little finger, making Azriel nod, "That's right, we can find them all later on".

It took you a moment to look around. You haven't been here in... ever. The only time you had come down here was straight to Rhys's office. You haven't been out of the sanctuary since you were first brought in. Except for the camp. An uncomfortable shiver runs down your back. The place Azriel winnowed to felt pretty secluded. The buzz of the sitting seemed further away. The street was brightly lit, with dangling lights and flower beds blooming on every window sill. "This isn't the main house", you muttered. It didn't feel like it. A least, you had no clue how Rhys would fit a study so big in here. Azriel shook his head as he lowered Zofie to the ground. "I wanted you to warm up your feet in Velaris first", he said while shaking his head. "So, we're not meeting everyone tonight?", a wave of relief washed over you. Sure, you were excited and all, but... one can only take so many stimuli at once. And well, for the kids' sake, that was a perfect start. "I wanted you to meet someone first. Someone special", Azriel said softly before stepping closer to the door and knocking gently.

The kids quickly rushed to stand up tall, yet their hands were gripping the sides of their skirts. Putting on their best behavior. So eager to meet someone new. Someone they hadn't seen around the sanctuary. Someone who seemed to be a part of a whole new world. But it's not really what you expected. In all honesty, you didn't even know what you were expecting.

An elderly woman opens the door, the brightest smile on her face as she sees Azriel. Her hands instantly reach to cup his face, and he doesn't pull away. He basks in the softness of her touch for a moment before moving to kiss both of her palms. "My boy", she beames, and you're convinced your heart had stopped working. Or there's a blood vessel that popped, hence the roaring in your ears. No, Azriel brought you to his... "Mother, I want you to meet someone", the spymaster steps to the side to give his mother a clear view of the kids and you.

You wait for her smile to falter, but she only seems to smile brighter. "Oh, dear...", she holds onto Azriel's arm. "Aren't you two adorable", she opens her embrace warmly, and that's all Zofie and Axel need as they rush forward toward the woman. Big eyes observing her as she cups both of their faces. You bite the inside of your cheeks.

"Yours?", the woman says, looking up at her son. Almost a hopeful gleams there as she watches him. "Not by blood", the spymaster says, and he says it so naturally that you nearly feel your legs buck. Convinced your nails are drawing blood from the way you are squeezing your palms. "And this lady, must be the lover?", her soft eyes land on you, knocking the last air out of your lungs. You open your mouth, but Azriel beats you to it: "Not yet, but I'm working on it". The elderly woman hums softly, a knowing look on her face as she glances between the two of you, before turning her eyes back on the kids, "Why don't we head inside, loves? I'm making cinnamon rolls", and the two younglings don't even do a double take at you as they walk toe-in-toe through the arched wooden door.

You turn to Azriel. "You're insane", you whisper, your eyes already full of tears. "No, I'm just trying to make the right choice for the first time", Azriel says calmly, reaching out for you, but you back away. "Azriel, this is...", you breathe out. "Don't back away from me", hurt flashes in his eyes. "I know I made questionable choices", Azriel pleads. "But this feels fucking right... I can't explain it, YN, but it feels as if I was meant to be here, meant to...", he states, almost in slight disbelief himself, "Don't take this from me".

You watch Azriel for a heartbeat. One. Two. Before you just leap forward, crashing your lips against his. And it's way better than you could ever imagine. It's eager and hungry. Messy, but so... right. As if this was something that was meant to happen. Azriel brings you closer as he deepens the kiss. His palms moving straight to your hips, a habit of his by now. You arch into his touch, your body working on its own rhythm when it comes to Azriel. And when you finally pull apart breathlessly, with a slightly rosy cheek, you can't help but smile at him because maybe just maybe. This is your chance to have your person. Your home.

"If I accidentally winnow us to my apartment now...", Azriel muttered breathlessly, making you let out a laugh. "Don't you dare, soldier", you say, pointing your finger at him. "I won't... Just thinking about it...hard", he states through hazy eyes. You shake your head as you brush your fingers across his lips, trying to clean up the smudged marks of your lipstick. "In your dreams," you purr lightly. "Well, I've been dreaming for a while now, love", Azriel reaches to you, resting his forehead against yours before his lips find yours once more.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii i love ur writing can u please write Ethan x Reader where they have makeup sex? There in a fight and the whole friend group is annoyed by it but obviously they make up plssss and tyyy🙏🙏

Hiiii! i hope you like it!

Make-Up Sex - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're in your first fight with Ethan, but he's determined to make it up to you.

A/N: Make Up Sex by MGK has been stuck in my head ever since I got this request lol

You had barely spoken to Ethan in days after a huge fight. It was your first one, and you both thought you were in the right, so neither of you would back down. He still sent the ‘I love you’ text every single night, and of course you responded, but that was the most interaction the two of you had with each other. You told him you needed a little space, because you thought it would help the relationship in the long run. You made it clear that you didn’t want to break up, but Ethan still felt like that’s what it was. You were hoping that after weeks of him inviting you over just for him to sit in front of the tv with Chad playing video games, the space would help him realize that you deserve attention, too.

When you arrived at Sam and Tara’s for the weekly “Family Dinner” as they liked to call it, you sat by Ethan, like you always did. He didn’t really speak to you but spoke to everyone else. Tara started to pick up on it, her eyes connecting with your sad ones.

“I just don’t understand why relationships have to be so complicated,” Sam said, referring to the fling she’d been having with Danny.

“Yeah, I’m starting to think relationships are dumb,” Ethan said as he took a bite of his food.

His words were like a knife to your heart as you snapped your head towards him.

“Oh, you do? That’s nice to know,” you said, before moving to the opposite side of the table, taking a seat beside Anika.

“You’re the one that needs space or whatever,” he said, the snarky tone pissing you off.

“God, Ethan. You still don’t get it,” you said, before Mindy interrupted.

“Hey, no arguing at family dinner,” she scolded the two of you, starting to get annoyed. You huffed in response, knowing this wasn’t the time or place for you to argue with Ethan.

“No wait, what don’t I get?” Ethan asked, resting his chin against his hands. The smugness on his face really made you feel like he didn’t care.

“Guys, seriously-“ Chad got out, before you cut him off. His hands went up as he dropped the fork on his plate.

“For a smart guy, you really are an idiot,” you said, staring Ethan down from across the table.

There was this tense, awkward silence in the air as the metal forks touched the glass plates, while everyone continued to eat.

“Maybe we should cut this short tonight,” Sam mumbled, taking her plate to the sink.

“No, we always watch a movie after dinner,” Tara protested, looking over to Ethan. She knew he was being a jerk and didn’t really want to be around him if he was going to act this way.

“It’s cool, I’ll go. You guys are closer to her anyway,” he said, standing up to put his jacket on.

“Dude, you know that’s not true,” Chad sighed, relaxing into his chair. “Maybe you two should talk or something.”

Ethan looked over to you, hoping that was something you were interested in doing. Yeah, he was being an ass, but he loved you and really wanted to understand why you wanted space.

“Yeah, I think we should,” you said, getting up from the table.

The two of you decided to go to a nearby park, taking a seat on one of the benches. You took in your surroundings, listening to the sounds of people talking and nearby cars.

“Sooo,” he said, his eyes squinting as the sun glared across his face, “I’m sorry I said relationships are dumb. I didn’t mean that.”

“That really hurt my feelings. Then again, you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you said, looking down at your hands on your lap. It was true. You were sick of feeling like you weren’t important enough.

“Babe, you need to tell me what I’ve done wrong. I’m obviously not getting it, and I want to fix it.”

You were quiet for a minute as you watched all the couples walking in front of you, their hands laced together as they flirted with each other. It reminded you of what you used to have with Ethan.

“We didn’t get to spend a lot of time together because of midterms. I understand that, but once they were over, I really wanted you to spend time with me. I missed you so much, even when you were right in front of me. I hated feeling that way,” you said, as Ethans fingers brushed against yours.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important,” he sighed, “I was just so caught up in trying to beat that game with Chad. I fucked up.”

“I wasn’t sure how you felt about me anymore…it’s like you went from always wanting sex, and always wanting to be close. It just stopped.”

“Hey, I never don’t want sex,” he joked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You say that, but the last encounter we had was me giving you head while you did homework before the exams. That was over a month ago,” you said, thinking back to that night. He was so stressed, and you just wanted to take care of him.

“I can’t believe it’s been that long,” he said. He sat there for a few seconds, thinking. “They’re still having a movie night if you want to come back to my dorm. Let me make this up to you.”

“I’d like that,” you smiled as he stood up, taking your hand in his as he led you back to the dorm.

Once you got there, he helped get you out of your clothes. He ran his hands over your breasts, building up the anticipation. You thought the two of you were going to immediately get to it, but he had other ideas.

“Lay down on your tummy, babe,” he said, feeling himself get hard as you stood completely nude in front of him.

He took his shirt off before kneeling on the bed beside you. His hands started to run across your back to your shoulders, massaging you.

“You’re so tense, baby,” he said, as his fingers continued to knead your skin.

You gasped at the feeling, getting goosebumps as you started to relax into the bed.

“That feels so good.”

He smiled as he moved your hair out of the way to massage your neck, before working his hands further down your back. He placed kisses to your skin, the sweet intimacy of the moment making you feel like you did when you first started dating.

His hand moved even lower, rubbing your ass as you started to whine. He smirked to himself as you started to wiggle.

“You okay?” he asked, as his hands moved to the back of your thighs.

“Yeah, I-“ your words got stuck in your throat when his hands went to you inner thighs.

“What was that, babe?” he asked smirking as he started to spread your legs a little.

The only sound you made was a sharp inhale as he reached between your legs, running his fingers over your soaked pussy.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, your core starting to grind against his hand as he rubbed you.

“Mhm.”

He moved his hand away from you as you whined out in protest, his hands grabbed your hips, lifting you a little.

“On your knees, babe,” he said, your ass proudly sticking in the air, thinking he was going to fuck you.

You were a whimpering mess when he started flicking his tongue across your clit. He’s never ate you out in this position, but he was loving the access for his big hands to squeeze your ass while he got you off.

“Oh, fuuuuuck,” you moaned, your face shoved into the comforter.

He was drawing patterns on your clit with his tongue, then dipping it inside of you. When his mouth sped up against you, your toes started to curl, the amazing feeling started to build up inside of you.

He kept going as he listened to your moans get louder, letting him know you were starting to get close. His mouth latched onto you, moving his head back and forth as he suckled on your clit.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, your back starting to arch at the feeling washing over you.

He tried to hold your hips still, laughing against you when he was struggling to do so.

After you came back down, he helped you roll over. He smiled at your blissful appearance.

As you lay on your back, he started to take off his pants.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t give you the attention you needed, baby,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making your heart melt. “I never want you to think that I don’t want you.”

“You’re forgiven, as long as you don’t do it again,” you smirked, as he crawled on top of you.

“I promise you I won’t.”

 He slid into you with ease, as your chest lifted to press against his.

He started to move his hips into yours, but stayed as close to you as he could. He kissed you as your fingers went to his hair. When his thrusts got faster, your legs wrapped around his waist, making it easier for him to pound into you.

“God, Eth. I missed this,” you said, your breathing heavy.

“I missed it too,” he groaned, reaching his hand down to rub your clit again.

You whined out at the stimulation, as two of his fingers circled over you bundle of nerves. He loved seeing you like this; your hips jerking and the fucked-out expression on your face making him go faster.

He knew he was going to cum soon, and he really need you to cum too, so he slid out of you. You whined out at the loss of contact as his hands went your legs. He stood beside the bed, pulling you closer to him.

Your ass was almost hanging off the bed as he pushed your legs back towards you. His cock slid back into you, the new position making it easier for him to give your g-spot the attention it needed.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned out, fucking harder into you with each word.

Your hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them up so his hands could roam your body. They grazed over your nipples, gently pinching them before squeezing both of your breasts. You felt your climax building up again, your legs starting to involuntarily shake as he fucked you. He trailed one of his hands from your breast back down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. Your walls started to flutter around him as your mouth fell open and your brows furrowed together.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, trying to fuck you through your orgasm until he couldn’t anymore. His hips came to a stop as he pulled out, shooting his cum all over your stomach.

After both of you started to catch your breath, he relaxed onto the bed beside you.

“Do you still need space, or are we good now?” he asked, your head turning so your eyes connected with his.

“I don’t need the space, but I’m not sure we’re good,” you said, giggling at his confused expression. “We’ll be good after you get your cum off of me.”

He laughed, getting up to grab a towel.

[anna-proxx]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 (pt. 1)

pairing: low honor arthur morgan x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, violence

word count: 3066

description: you were captured by the van der linde gang for being colm's sister, in hopes you'd be useful. you have to deal with a big bad cowboy who isn't inclined to letting you go.

a/n: another part in progress!

The tree's rough bark kept pushing into your back as the rope remained tied around your body and the trunk, making you an inseparable pair for the time being.

You were agitated with the way your muscles ached and would kill for a short stretch. The sun was setting and shining brightly in your eyes, blinding your vision. You would admire such a sight normally, but now it made your head hurt and the heat made strings of sweat trickle down your skin.

All that was entirely pointless. Whatever this gang was, holding you captured would do no good for them. You were Colm's half-sister, no point in denying that – but you had nothing to do with him or the O'Driscolls.

This was simply stupid. They kept you here hungry and uncomfortable like a prize, as if Colm ever cared for you enough to be useful for them.

Your gaze shot towards the camp as you noticed someone coming your way. A big cowboy dressed in black, his hands placed leisurely on his gun belt as he walked towards you slowly but with a confident stride.

You slightly squinted your eyes, following him with your gaze with anything but a friendly expression.

He was there, when you were captured, and he was the one to tie you up and throw you onto the horse so crudely.

He stopped to stand right before you, a cocky smile on his face as he towered you, while you sat on the ground. Despite having to look up at him, your eyes were full of anger and protest, refusing to be submissive.

He took his time with informing you why he was there, clearly enjoying the power difference as he calmly pulled out a cigarette and held it in his fingers with his intense stare fixated on you, then flicked it alight and smoked in a relaxed manner.

"So..." he finally spoke, his voice low and deep, "ya gon’ tell me som'thing useful? We might not be killin' ya then."

You gave him a hateful look. What a jerk.

"I know nothing. Haven't seen Colm for ages," you said truthfully, your tone not concealing your irritation though.

He tapped on his cigarette as he continued to study you, clearly not believing what you said.

He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"I'd speak if I were u, lil rabbit. Don've a ton o'patience."

You sighed in frustration, letting your head hang low. "I. Know. Nothing."

You looked up again, meeting the same hard gaze that still lingered on you.

"And if you think that you can use me to manipulate Colm, I'll have to disappoint you. He doesn't give a shit about me," you added, hoping it would get through the thick skull of his that you were indeed not lying.

He lowly chuckled. "He was surely pissed when we killed his brother."

"Well I ain't his brother."

"Yer his sister."

"Half-sister." And much younger.

You squinted your eyes again, not liking at all how arrogantly he stood in front of you, smoking as if you were at his mercy.

Well, you kind of were, but if you got the freedom, you'd punch the annoying expression off of his face.

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, his other hand remaining on his gun belt as he seemed to think.

"Such a pretty face, what a pity," he muttered, no sign of a single emotion in his tone.

You slightly shivered and your heartbeat sped up. Were they gonna kill you, only for the misfortune of who was the one to conceive you? What a stupid death.

"Please, I'm telling you the truth. I know nothing about Colm and he doesn't care about me. You captured me for nothing."

Your gaze was now soft as you pleaded with your eyes, hoping for at least a little slice of empathy.

Maybe if you had the chance to talk to one of the women you saw in the camp instead of this crude outlaw? You did nothing wrong.

He took his time before taking a step forward and squatting in front of you to be face to face.

The sun was almost entirely hidden behind the horizon now and the shine wasn't so blinding anymore, just a gently lit sky, slowly clouded from east, a threat of a storm in its tail.

"Listen, lil rabbit," he threatened, his blue eyes piercing right through you, "I've been put'n charge of ya and I ain't much big on mercy. 'S not looking very bright for ya and if yer lying... M'not against makin' a lady beg me to kill 'er."

Your feisty side clawed its way out as you stared into this stranger's eyes. Being treated so unfairly despite none of this being your fault.

You were refusing to fold. If you were gonna get killed anyway, at least you'd keep your dignity. Hopefully karma would then get this son of a bitch.

"You bastar–" you said lowly before thinking, but were interrupted by a puff from cigarette blown right in your face. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you turned your head to the side, avoiding the smoke as much as you could.

When you looked back, you saw a cocky grin playing on his lips once again. You considered spitting in his face but decided against it. You were angry but not that suicidal yet.

"Lil rabbit has claws, huh?" He held the cigarette between his fingers now, away from his lips as he continued to smirk, the smoke flowing up the air.

"Why don't you just let me go? I won't tell nothing. Just release me and we can all forget about this," you tried to reason this time, but the annoyance in your voice was still obvious.

He cocked his eyebrow and seemed amused by your attempt. That man most likely had no interest in letting you go that easily.

A thunder echoed in the distance, roaring like an animal warning its prey. You felt a little shiver in your stomach; you wouldn't be left here outside in a storm, right?

The man looked in the direction of the sound shortly before stubbing out his cigarette and throwing it away in the grass, getting up to his feet.

You looked up and saw big black clouds quickly stretching themselves across the sky. The sky was clear just a little while ago, how fast did this come?

The man seemed to be leaving and you panicked, scratching your back against the tree as you tried to move. The rope dug into your abdomen and held you back, keeping you a prisoner.

"Wait!" you shouted and were met with a curious gaze from the outlaw who now stopped in his tracks, waiting for what you had to say.

"Don't let me out in the rain, I'll die of hypothermia."

You were dressed lightly, your arms exposed and the rest of your body clothed in a rather thin material. Sitting in a pool of rain, drenched through and through would do you no good.

The cowboy chuckled. What was so amusing?

"We ain't a resort, lady."

"Fuck you." The words left your mouth before you could consider them. You always had a big mouth, except now it could get you killed.

You froze as you realized what you'd just said, watching intently his every move.

He scratched his chin as if thinking, then walked back over to you, lowering to your level again. You noticed he smelled of tobacco, brandy and gunpowder. It tickled in your nose at such close proximity.

"Yer gon' keep your mouth shut and do what I say, u understand?" he threatened with a rough tone, a warning in his eyes.

You kept quiet and nodded, a small hope rising within you.

The rain started drumming around you as the clouds tore, the raindrops large and cold, gliding down your skin like tears.

The man hadn't moved, instead continued staring at you one moment more, his face shielded from the rain by his gambler hat.

Finally he drew out a knife from his belt and with one swing cut the rope. You felt relief around your waist and abdomen as the pressure was suddenly gone; the first thing you did was move from the tree trunk and roll your neck, quietly sighing in relief.

You were getting progressively wetter as the rain now came down mercilessly, hitting everything in its way. The last sun rays were hidden behind the ominous clouds, concealing everything below in their shadow. You found yourself almost in darkness, but could still make out the outlines of your surroundings and features of the man as well.

You sat on the wet grass with only your feet and hands tied together. He freed your legs but left your wrists as they were, then grabbed your forearm and roughly pulled you up, making you almost fall as fast as you got up.

Your head spun shortly and it took you a second to realize what was happening. Your legs were sore as well, so you tried your best to put one foot before the other, stumbling a few times as he strode through the camp with his hand around your arm, jerking you forward anytime you fell behind.

You didn't dare to say anything and only prayed he wouldn't harm you. He was much taller than you and bigger as well and though you knew how to defend yourself, there was no way of breaking free from this guy, at least not without any weapons.

You both were already drenched by the time you made it to his tent. He opened its flaps with one hand and dragged you inside, soft lamp light lighting up the space.

At least you were sheltered from the rain now, which was much appreciated.

But you were still in danger and you realized that very well.

You stood in the middle, following the man with your eyes. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at you, his face grim.

"Don' do anythin' stupid, unless you want a bullet in yer head."

His stern tone made the warning believable.

I thought you'd make me beg for death, you thought, but held your tongue. It wasn't a smart thing to say when staring into the insides of his gun’s barrel.

"Okay," you simply replied, keeping your tone neutral.

You held eye contact, waiting for whatever happens next while he appeared to analyze you. He probably wouldn't kill you just because, he seemed to be cruel but not mad.

"Sit 'ere," he then commanded, gesturing towards a chair with his gun.

You listened and sat without a word, just hoping not to get kicked out outside where, in the meantime, the storm unleashed all its might, creating a perfect nightmare setting.

Your capturer sat on the bed and put his gun aside, his gaze not leaving you.

"If yer smart, ya won't cause any trouble." He paused for a moment. "Are ya smart?"

"If I am, will you let me go?"

He chuckled. "And escort ya to the sheriff while I'm at it."

You leaned against the chair properly, relaxing your muscles while your wrists kept rubbing against the rope still.

"I already told you. I'll only be a burden and inconvenience if you keep me here, I've got no worth for you."

"We'll see."

"What? Why? What are you gonna do with me?" You straightened your back and leaned forward.

"Yer asking too many questions, lil rabbit." He got up and walked towards you.

You watched his every move intently with a subdued breath, your senses barely registering the thunder outside.

He put his hands on each of the chair's arm rests and leaned in so close you instinctively pushed yourself against the back of the chair, keeping as much distance as you could. You still held eye contact though, not wanting to satisfy his intimidation.

"What a pretty house we'd found ya in, you livin' alone, huh?" It wasn't a question as much as a statement – they had paid you an unexpected visit after all, clearly expecting you to be alone.

The smell of cigarettes and alcohol hit your nose again with every breath you took. It made you slightly dizzy.

"Yes," you replied dryly as you realized he was waiting for your response. You uncomfortably shifted under his piercing blue gaze. In other circumstances you'd find his eyes pretty, but that wasn't important now.

You could basically spot every blemish on his face and you felt more awkward every passing moment. Still you watched him as he watched you. A raindrop fell down from the rim of his hat onto the bare skin of your arm; you slightly flinched.

"The spot in the wooden floor under yer bed was a real smart idea," he spoke slowly, watching the wheels in your head turn, "Yer unfortunate y'weren't the only one to hav' it."

His voice rumbled deep from his chest, a hint of mockery in it.

The corner of his mouth twitched at the first signs of shock on your face, savoring your expression.

You indeed were shocked, frozen for at least a few moments, before anger spread out in you like a wildfire.

These fuckers not only kidnapped you, for all false reasons, but also robbed you. Took all the money you had been saving for years.

Was this some sick kind of karma for your old life? A joke of a punishment from God? You didn't know whether you should cry, curse or laugh. You squinted your eyes instead.

"You..." a low growl escaped your mouth but you struggled to find a fitting word to follow.

"Arthur," the man finished your sentence, grinning over your angered face.

His somewhat relaxed and mocking attitude made you loosen up your tongue a little.

"If my hands weren't tied, I'd claw your pretty eyes out," you muttered, a light sarcastic smile flashing on your lips.

You half-expected a slap or any other physical punishment but there was none. Just a raised eyebrow and more amusement.

"Yer a real feisty one, O'Driscoll girl."

"I ain't O'Driscoll! It's not even my name!"

It was true, you kept your mother's last name, you didn't want to have anything to do with the O’Driscolls.

Of course, Arthur only said that to irritate you, and it worked.

Arthur straightened his back and took a step back, finally giving you space to breathe.

"Yer entertain' fo'sure. But that big mouth of yers might get ya killed eventually."

He sat on his bed again but this time made himself more comfortable, resting in half lying position, arms propped behind his head and one leg hanging from the side.

"Your lack of understanding for personal space might," you mumbled in response, loosely sitting on the chair in resignation.

Another deep chuckle.

"Careful."

For a while there were only sounds of the raging storm, giving you time to think.

Technically, you could carry out a very lame attempt to escape, but to be fair, you didn't really want to. Not when there was an apocalypse happening behind the canvas.

Arthur must've known that too, given his relaxed supervision over you and his gun lying beside him as if you couldn't surprise him and snatch it away. Not like you could do much with it, he'd probably knock it out of your hand before your fingers could find the trigger.

Another loud thunder and more raining. In other conditions you might even find the ambience relaxing. It did make you feel a bit more sleepy. Especially when there was no more interaction now. Just a silent eye contact as the cowboy seemed to be deep in thought.

Then a daring thought crossed your mind and you bit your lip as you considered it. Despite his cruel handling and cold character, he didn't seem like he'd want to kill or hurt you. At least not now. He already had plenty of reasons to hit you but he didn't.

And if they still had plans with you, they wouldn't risk getting you killed, right? To put all the effort into nothing.

After all, you heard him being ordered to tie you up when they kicked your door down, so he wasn't the one in charge.

Maybe, just maybe, if you were annoying enough, he'd get so fed up that you'd eventually be released, instead of being kept around like a pig for slaughter.

You cleared your throat, getting back the outlaw's attention. "So… Arthur. And last name?" You paused for a moment, keeping your tone dry as you spoke. "Does it have anything to do with you being an asshole?"

You smiled sweetly, still angry about all the things he had done that annoyed you. He really was quite a pain in the ass. And you hoped to reciprocate the feeling.

"Ya should really go t'sleep instead, tiredness makes ya suicidal."

"I'm still drenched by the rain," you complained, not breaking the eye contact.

"Ya want me to change yer clothes?" He started getting up jokingly; your eyes widened.

"No!" You stopped him in the middle of his movement, making him grin and return to his former position.

"Yer lucky I'm in a patient mood t'day, ya know," he said, slightly furrowing his brow as he recalled something. "Knew this fella, forgot his name. He could've been fine. But, ya see," he told his story in a slow dramatic tone that could be interpreted as another threat, "he wouldn't shut his mouth. Could've been quiet but he preferred a bullet in his face instead."

Another warning?

"All you've done has been threatening me so far," you mumbled in response but froze as soon as you realized what you said. This might've been over the line, a little too teasing for your own good.

You immediately searched for his facial expression but hardly, considering it was partly covered by his hat and the oil lamp has been doing a frail job lighting up his face.

"So what, y'want me to hurt ya? 'S that your thing?" he replied, his voice laced with annoyance this time.

"No," you said clearly but your voice betrayed you with its shakiness. You still sat there with rope biting into your skin as it tightly kept your hands together.

You sighed; frankly, every moment drained your energy and you didn't have much left of it.

Your thoughts were becoming more muted and mushed every second of silence but you tried keeping yourself awake as long as you could.

However, your body demanded sleep.

Arthur had nothing else to say and only watched you idly, letting you slowly lose your consciousness.

God, you were really tired. So tired you even stopped minding the wet clothes clinging to your skin or the raindrops dropping from your hair.

The storm continued to rumble on, but you were slowly losing the sense of it as you drifted off.

With your wrists scraped, sitting on an entirely uncomfortable hard wooden chair that was already making your back hurt, the reality was slowly being replaced by strange chain of visions from your subconscious mind.

[priestessame]

... ˜”*°•Jealous S/Os Drabbles (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ...

... ˜”*°• Minors DNI˜”*°• ... ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ "𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖜𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘" ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

... •Gender neutral reader- sub reader

˜”*°•Jealous partners that love you so much it hurts. Jealous partners that absolutely hate seeing you with anyone else. Those who will clench their fists until the nails draw blood just seeing you smile at someone.

Sure its a little problematic, but its all because they love you so much. They tip toe the line of showing that jealousy to you. Other than a few pouts that make you laugh, they won't let you catch even a whiff of how they truly seethe inside.

˜”*°•Jealous partners that would never blame you for how they are feeling. They know you're always perfect, fiercely loyal, and doting to a fault. But they also know it's your kindness and sympathy that gets mistaken for flirting. You could be just going around doing what you do, smiling harmlessly at a waiter or a cashier. And it's only them that notices the person's face falter. Eyes glazing as if they had looked directly into the sun.

What's infuriating is that you don't see how they look at you. You only ever see a friend making you laugh or a stranger being kind. Palpable. They can taste the jealousy curling in their stomach, crawling up their throat until they can feel it in their mouth. It's bitter and resentful, numbing their tongue like medicine.

˜”*°•Jealous partners that would grin like wolves, before lacing an arm around your shoulder, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching how the other person's face darkens with realisation.

You belong to them, body, soul and mind. And no matter how many times they claim you, it'll never be enough.

Most of the time they try to handle the stares. You see, mostly it's the low-lives giving you looks of pure desire, wondering what you would look like under them. Those can be dealt with easily.

But sometimes the gaze is different, it's always a gut-wrenching realization, for they can recognize it. It's a gaze that goes deeper than just lust. it's how they have looked at you all their life. That's the one that really fucks with them. Rage and fear washing over them like a tide.

They just have to feel you in that moment, pressed themselves up against you until they can feel you heart hammer against their skin. With every passing second, their poised self continues to slip. They need you to show them how much you really crave them. So they'll do it. Even if its means pulling you in a corner, secluded yet public and needing to slide their fingers in you pants to feel how aroused you are.

They want you to feel as consumed by them as they feel about you. Can't you see how pathetic you make them feel? So quick to anger and envy. They want you ruined, to bury so deeply into you that you can feel them mark you forever.

Jealous partners that won't let you go until their teeth leave marks down your bare skin. Playlus nips at your neck as they overwhelm you with the pleasure. Its hard and rough as they take you right then and there, basically beckoning someone to catch you two. So the idiots can watch how easily you come undone under them, your pleasure building your pleasure until you can't help but scream their name. Maybe then, that will ease their jealousy.

"Who do you belong to?" They'd whisper, voice like silk, like they aren't holding you down, fisting your hair. That's the only time you realise someone pissed them off, it's feeling the hunger and need radiating off of them. The touch so starving, that their fingers seem to carve you out.

Yes they a little out of hand, but you don't mind, do you?

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

ARLECCHINO, Childe, Wanderer, Geto, Sukuna, Gojo, MIHAWK, Sunday,

໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა Buy me a coffee?

[princesssmars]

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

[beautysamour]

Your beauty never ever scared me

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.

warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending

a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.

No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.

You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.

To having any connection with the darkling.

You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.

You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.

You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.

And piss him off you did.

During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.

Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.

—

“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”

Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.

You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.

You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.

Including Nikolai.

So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.

“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”

You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.

“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.

You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.

But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.

Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.

You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.

—

“She’s a monster!”

Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.

“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”

Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.

You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.

“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.

He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”

Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”

—

You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?

After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.

“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.

You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.

He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.

“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”

“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.

You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.

—

It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.

He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.

If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.

You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.

People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.

Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.

You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.

As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.

He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.

You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.

“Sweetheart?”

You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.

“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.

Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”

Shit.

You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.

“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”

He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.

Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.

“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.

Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.

The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.

“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”

Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.

He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.

You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”

You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.

“Shit.”

—

“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”

This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.

“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”

He was right, you couldn’t.

You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”

Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”

You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.

You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.

Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.

—

Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.

Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.

He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-

“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“

“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”

Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.

Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.

You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.

Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.

Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.

He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.

—

You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.

Saints, you were truly a monster.

Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.

You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-

“Are you alright,” he says instead.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.

“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”

You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”

He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”

“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.

“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.

“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“

“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”

The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.

“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”

You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.

“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.

Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.

Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.

Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.

“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Ok.”

You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.

He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.

You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”

From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.

You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.

Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.

“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.

“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.

Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-

“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”

You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.

“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.

“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.

You weren’t a monster.

Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.

Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”

“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?

“You’re not going to join me?”

Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.

Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”

Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.

“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.

You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”

Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.

Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”

He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.

When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.

As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.

Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.

When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.

“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.

Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”

You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”

“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”

“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.

“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.

You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.

As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?

You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.

Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.

He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.

[kleftiko]

❦ FLOPPY HAT

cw: none, this is fluff

alternate title: team 7’s first impression of you

kakashi always delays your mornings. he’s late to everything and one of the reasons is because he prefers to keep you in a loving headlock each morning (he calls it cuddling, but it’s inescapable) while he reads his books.

needless to say, when he finally leaves much later than he should for his first mission with his new team, you can get ready and go outside to tend to your garden.

only to get severely pissed off.

your garden was new, kakashi had his routine and your garden literally got in the way of it, BUT DID HE HAVE TO WALK RIGHT THROUGH IT FOR THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK????

your blood boils and you feel it in your cheeks as you see the murderous footprints of kakashi who was probably reading his stupid icha icha instead of looking where he was going.

team seven, on the other hand, is being continuously amazed by their new teacher. they can’t land a single blow on him, he seems invincible to everything. and they’re about to give up hope when they hear the piercing scream of of a killer, a sound so horrifying it shakes their sensei to a halt.

it’s you. and you’re pissed.

“kakashi hatake! how many times have i told you to look where you’re going!!!”

the man freezes as he sees you coming over the horizon. a jonin knows when he’s defeated, and seeing his significant other blowing steam out their ears as they march straight towards him, he knows he’s done for.

he doesn’t do much when you approach him. and team seven look on in horror as you rip the book out of his hands.

“this is what happens when you read your stupid book while you walk!” you swing the novel down onto his head. repeatedly. “you ruined my garden again! this is the last time kakashi!!”

your man takes the beating, slightly laughing at you because your assault doesn’t hurt, and team seven is looking at this random person in a floppy sun hat beat their sensei.

kakashi holds you in his arms. no book in his hands this time as his fingers run up and down your back.

“that better be the last time, kakashi.” you mumble into his chest. he chuckles and adjusts the two of you on the couch. after todays kerffufle, you went home and took a nap. kakashi had replanted everything while you slept, leaving a path that he can walk through in the morning. it looked funky, and out of place with everything else, but it was sweet.

“it’ll be the last time.” he assures. “my team thinks you’re pretty scary:”

“that’s cause i’m the only one who can kick your ass.”

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Space Between Us

Prompt: I’m so glad you’re back! Can you write something where the reader & Luke are in an argument? Maybe he’s struggling when he gets back from Afghanistan or something? Idk you can be creative with the rest :) Thank you!

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: PTSD symptoms mentioned

A/N: thanks for the request, enjoy! 

You’re in the midst of scrubbing a dish clean when you see the headlights of Luke’s truck pull in the driveway. 

He cuts the ignition. The sun is long gone, set beyond the hills in the distance, so when the door opens and closes with a thud, you can’t get a good look at him. Suddenly, you realize how torn you are between being relieved that he’s finally home and still so angry at him for leaving in the first place. 

The fight you’d had a earlier had been a bad one– probably the biggest you’ve ever had. And Luke looks… God, he looks so tired as he walks across the driveway, his silhouette illuminated by the porch light you’d left on. His head is hanging low, his feet trudging along the steps towards the front door. Under normal circumstances, you would greet him there– throw your arms around him the second he walked inside and bury your face in his neck. But tonight you can’t– because these aren’t normal circumstances. 

Instead, as soon as he steps through the door, you set the dish down and turn to face him. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs. The pet name he uses makes you cling to the small sliver of hope that maybe things will be okay. 

But still, your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Hi.”

“How has your day been?” he attempts. 

But you shake your head. “Luke, I really can’t fake pleasantries tonight.”

He scrubs his face with his hand and sighs, like he can’t wait to be done with this entire situation– the fighting, the chaos, you. As unbearable of a thought it is, you can’t help but glance at it in the horizon. What if that’s what’s happening here? What if he’s sick of you? What if his feelings for you had changed since he’d been away?

It’s a possibility– no matter how badly you don’t want it to be. 

“Listen, I’m just so tired–” He sounds defeated… empty. 

“And you think I’m not?” You challenge. 

He shifts before gripping his neck with his hand, still hovering near the door, not daring to move closer. It’s as if he’s already distancing himself from you… As if he’s done. 

“Well if we’re both tired, this probably won’t be a very productive conversation. Why don’t we just pick this back up after we’ve gotten some rest?”

You dig your nails into your palms, a distraction from the pain in your chest. He doesn’t get it– this anxiety that’s been making a home inside your chest. No matter how hard you push and plead. And you don’t know what else to say to make him get it. 

“How am I supposed to know you’d still be here by tomorrow?” 

His jaw tenses. 

“That’s a pretty fair possibility considering the shit you pulled today.”

Luke sighs. “I know I did and I’m–”

“You stormed out,” you say, taking a step forward so that you can grip the island counter. “You left.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you know you need to let him talk. You know he deserves a chance to say his piece. But you’re still just so angry… you’re consumed by it. So you continue. 

“What if I had done that to you?” You ask. “What if I had been the one to take off and then just… not come home for over twelve hours?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You’d be pretty worried, huh? Maybe a little mad…”

“Baby–”

“No, you’d be fucking pissed, Luke! I know you would. So why is it okay for you to do that to me? Why is it okay to take off and not answer any of my calls or texts?”

The pained look on his face tells you everything you need to know– that you’re right. 

“You say you have dreams– nightmares where you can’t find me,” you say, using the things he’s told you to prove your point– digging where you know it’ll hurt, because you’re just so fucking angry, and you need him to understand. “That was my reality today, Luke. You put me through your literal fucking nightmare.”

“Please don’t,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“I was so worried. I- I didn’t know where you were,” your voice breaks. I didn’t know if you’d ever come back– is what you don’t say… what you’re too afraid to say. 

When Luke got back from Afghanistan, that was supposed to be it. You were supposed to be through with the distance, through with the heartache, through with being terrified that every time the phone rang, it was someone telling you he was dead. 

But although he was discharged almost three months ago now– it doesn’t feel like it. Instead it feels like walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop. And while you want to play it off as just an adjustment period and some misunderstandings, it’s starting to feel bigger than that. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still empty-sounding. “I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“To make me worry?” 

“I was going to call,” he explains, “But my phone died. And I– I needed some space.”

“Some space?” You gawk. “Are you kidding me? You needed space?”

He nods, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. 

“Luke, you’ve been gone for three years. All you’ve had is space– all I’ve given you since you’ve been back is fucking space– I have waited and waited for you to come home from the army. I counted down the years, the months, the days– I lived on letters and shitty phone calls where I could barely even hear you because of the horrible reception. And now… you’re out, you’re home. You’re finally here, except you’re not. You never fucking came back from Afghanistan, Luke. You haven’t even given me a chance to not give you space because you’re not fucking here.”

There’s an eerie silence, a dramatic, drawn out pause that only seems to magnify the space between you. 

“That’s not fair,” he says. 

“Not fair? You really want to talk not fair, Luke? What’s not fair is leaving in the middle of an argument and not coming home all day. What’s not fair is not calling or texting or giving me some shred of fucking evidence that you were alright. I mean, do you understand how fucking worried I was? Do you even care?”

“Of course I fucking care– I just… I needed to–”

“Needed to what?” You snap, your voice raising as your arms flail in the air. “To take off? To leave?”

“I don’t–” Luke stammers, sounding so defeated. “I don’t know.”

Another beat of eerie silence settles between you. After only a moment, you can’t take it anymore. So, you ask the question you’ve been terrified to know the answer to. “Are you going back?”

His head snaps up, like he’s surprised you even asked. 

“Th-this is all my fault. Fuck, I should never have let this get—” he stammers. 

“Don’t,” you say, your voice louder than you thought it could be at your current state. “Just don’t, Luke.”

But he continues. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he tells you, and you have to swipe the tear sliding down your cheek before he can see. “I just…”

“Just tell me, are you going back?” you say, harsher than you intended. 

“No,” he shakes his head, adamant. Finally he looks at you. You hoped that would’ve given you some sort of comfort, but it doesn’t. Instead, you see pleading eyes, usually so warm you want to sunbathe in them, so familiar that you want to curl up and call them home. But tonight they’re neither warm nor familiar. 

“Then what is it? What the hell is going on?” you say. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I can’t keep— I can’t keep…” 

“Just tell me,” you plead, voice rising. Because you can’t stand this. “Please, just fucking tell me. Luke, I’m begging–”

“I can’t do this,” he finally spits out. “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t.”

And there it is. 

The nail in the coffin. 

The final straw.  

Your worst nightmare.

“Right,” you exhale the rest of the air in your lungs. Before you burst into a sobbing mess in front of him, you give Luke a short nod and turn away. 

“Wait–” you hear him call. 

“It’s fine, Luke,” you say over your shoulder without looking at him. “Like you said earlier, we’re both tired.”

“Wait, wait,” he follows you up the stairs, but you were too far ahead of him.

“Just forget it–” you say, voice choking with tears. 

“Baby– stop, please–” he gets out just as you slam the door to the bedroom shut.

You stifle your sob in the sleeve of your sweater, back pressed against the door for a moment while you try to collect yourself. Then you walk to the bed and collapse on the mattress in a heap. As you curl up, clutching Luke’s pillow like it’s your lifeline, you try desperately to breathe between sobs. And then, even though you know he won’t, you hope with everything inside of you that he comes after you. 

…

You can’t sleep. Whenever you try, you just feel like you hear sounds of him leaving again– the screen door snapping shut, the zipper of his bag, the fear and anxiety only intensifying as the hours wear on.

All you have is silence and your thoughts.

I can’t do this, he had said. His direct words. 

You bury your face in his pillow as you try to hold back more tears, wondering if you’re imagining the way his scent is starting to fade from the fabric. How could you miss someone living under the same roof as you?

You roll onto your back again as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan whirl around and around steadily. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as you sit up. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes frustratedly before turning the lamp on. Was Luke even home? Or had he taken off again? You hate that you even have to wonder. How can things have gone so wrong so fast? 

As soon as the doubt creeps into your mind, you know it’s there to stay– at least until you can see for yourself whether or not Luke is still home. So, you swing your legs over the bed and head for the door. Except as soon as you swing it open and step forward into the hall, your feet collide with something– and before you know it, you’re crashing to the floor with a hard thud. 

All the air is sucked from your lungs as your stomach collides with the carpet beneath you. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Luke’s familiar voice hovers above you. 

And while you don’t really have the oxygen in your lungs to answer his question, when you turn your head and open your eyes, you can see the faint outline of his features from the lamp you’d turned on in the bedroom. His eyebrows are scrunched together– like they’re concerned, and his mouth is slightly agape. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Luke repeats, his hand hovering on the outside of your hips. 

“No–” you stammer, flipping so that you’re lying on your back. You barely choke out the single word before you’re bursting into unfiltered tears– the blubbery kind, where you can barely breathe in between sobs. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding panicked. He shifts, scooching forward so that he’s closer to you, but he still doesn't dare to touch you. “What hurts, baby?” 

All you can manage to do is shake your head before you move to cover your face with your hands– a feeble attempt at hiding from him. Like that would make any difference. At one point, you feel his fingers ghost along the fabric of your sleeve, trying to tug your hands from your face. 

“Look at me, baby,” he begs. But you just shake your head harder, resisting his pleas. 

“C’mon, I just want to know if you’re–” 

But he doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before you break. Flinging your arms down, you shout, “No I’m not fucking okay! Nothing about this is okay!” 

He flinches back, arms dropping to his side. Instantly, another wave of tears well up in your eyes, choking out before you can stop them. And suddenly, you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. You’re a mess– all blubbery and pathetic in front of him. But you don’t even have the energy to care anymore. 

“Just breathe, baby. Breathe,” he says. He moves like he’s going to reach for you– and you let yourself get your hopes up in that fraction of a second. But then he drops his arm back down and frowns, like he’s caught himself doing something he isn’t supposed to. The space between you now only makes you cry harder, gasping for air in between sobs. He’s right beside you, but in some ways, he feels even further than when he was across the ocean. 

“I’m sorry I tripped you.”

You shake your head. “I’m– I’m not crying because you tripped me,” you bellow. Before you can see the questioning look on his face, you continue. “What–” you try to say, but your voice is too choppy. “What… are… you even–” you stammer harder. “What are you even doing out here? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry–” Luke repeats. “I didn’t want to sleep on the couch– I wanted… I wanted to make sure you were okay, I wanted to be there if you needed anything.”

You pause, realization washing over you. 

Luke was here–

Outside the bedroom door.

Sleeping on the floor like a goddamn golden retriever. 

But why? After everything he’d said– and the way he’d acted earlier? 

“You dumbass,” you snap, finally sitting up from the carpet. “I did need you. Why don’t you get that? Why don’t you understand that I fucking need you? That I’ll always need you!”

“I–” he stammers. “I don’t– I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“Well guess what? You leaving upsets me! You sleeping in the hallway instead of in our bed upsets me! You not wanting me anymore upsets me!”

“Wait– what? Not wanting you?” he says, his tone disbelieving.  

“Not being able to do this anymore– or whatever you said. Guess what, Luke? That’s upsetting!”

“I didn't mean it like that–” he says quickly, his eyes downcast as he seems to try to think if he really had worded things that way. “I– Fuck, I just– I just meant I couldn’t fucking handle… I couldn’t handle things–. I couldn’t deal with this… this feeling inside of me since I’ve been back from the army– I didn’t mean you– God, baby it was never you–”

“But–” you whisper, shaking your head. “You said–”

“I don’t remember what I said–” Luke explains. “I bet it was fucking stupid– I’ve been so overwhelmed and frustrated at myself. I don’t know what I said, but I promise I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”

You close your eyes at his answer, everything clicking into place. Is it possible that this was just all one giant misunderstanding? Did Luke still want to be with you?

“I thought…” you stammered, your voice next to nothing. “I thought you were done with me. You said you were done.” 

More tears escape down your cheeks and you duck your face to hide from him once again. 

“No– no. God, I’m so sorry… I can’t,” he says, his voice low and tired. “I just don’t feel like myself since I’ve been home. I don’t know what to do and I’m always on edge… I can’t breathe half the time. But I swear it’s not you–” he swallows and takes a moment to compose himself. 

“Then what is it?” You plead. “Why can’t you stand being home with me? Why aren’t I enough?”

God, you sound pathetic– but after the emotional roller coaster Luke had put you through these last few months, you really couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t know what it is–” he admits. “I wish I did, but I don’t. But please trust me, baby girl, you are enough. You’re more than enough. I mean, you are the only thing that makes me even feel alive anymore. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten sick of me– I don’t know how you’ve put up with this for so long.”

He lets out a loud huff when you launch yourself into his lap– completely erasing the distance between you two on the floor once and for all. Before he knows what’s happening, you’re winding your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in the crook of his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. He hesitates, but only for a moment, before his arms are securely wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. 

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you sniffle. 

He squeezes you tighter, holding you to him like he’s scared you’ll disappear. You know the feeling, all too well. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers into your hair. “I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything sets me on edge– every noise, every thought. 

When you pull back, your heart aches as soon as you see tears glistening in Luke’s eyes. You cup the outside of his face, your thumb trailing up and down his cheek. “We can figure it out,” you promise. “We’ll get you to see someone– a doctor or a therapist, or someone that can help. We’ll figure it out.”

He nods like he actually believes you. 

“I know you’re tired,” you say, shifting to move from his lap. “Let’s just go to bed, okay? We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

He nods and lets you tug him to his feet. You cling to his hand as you walk towards the bedroom, afraid that if you let him go, he’ll disappear again. 

“I can take the couch,” he says softly, making you halt in place. You turn to face him almost instantly. 

“What?” You shake your head, brow instantly furrowing. “No–” Instantly, you feel your anxiety creeping up again. 

“I just– I can take the couch if you want space.”

“No, Luke. I don’t want space. Do you want space?”

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good,” you say. “Then stay with me. Please.” 

He nods, while you walk him the rest of the way to your bed. He waits for you to crawl to your side closest to the wall before he slides under the sheets beside you. He looks stiff– awkward when he first lays down, but you don’t give him long before you’re scooting into his side, resting your head on his chest. 

“Thanks, for being patient with me,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure this out,” you say. “I love you.”

He gathers the hand you have resting on his chest in his own, lacing your fingers together and giving it a tight squeeze. “I love you, too.”

You exhale, noticing that even breathing feels easier with him beside you. 

[badyan]

The clanks

"oh-…i can move, you don’t have to sit on the floor"

"I prefered it." he answers simply, not bothering himself to explain anything more than that. His metal feet clanked against each other as he sat on the floor nearby the bed where you were laying, doodling nothings in your sketchbook — the thing you have made a habit to do when you’re hanging out in his quarters while he’s busy.

And you have never seen him this busy before. Hours standing still at his workbench, staring down the poor blueprints, then pacing through the room, his steps more calculated than the clock’s clicks. Nights follow days and the first sun rays always wake you up because there’s no curtains or anything that can make this place cozy at its bare minimum — except for the soft cushions and pillows and blankets on the bed which he has gathered only for you, only because you asked, only because you wanted to spend more time with him.

The bed was giant, clearly made for two, but there wasn’t a chance in the last few days for you to feel the familiar weight sliding closer in the dark of the night, spooning from behind so carefully, his hands gently finding their rest on your waist. Something was haunting him for too long now and you wouldn’t mind waiting for him, no, never have you, but you simply started to get worried about his state — and you’ve approached him with that but was gently turned back to your rest. You knew that he wasn’t going to listen to you anyway — but you also knew you couldn’t just let him be in this alone. So, you’re staying with him for a while. Even if he barely talks to you, he could never deny your company.

And now you’re relieved to see him sitting down nearby to meditate a bit — for the first time during this whole time. You move closer to him, hand gently sliding onto the broad shoulder.

"You should take a rest now, hun…"

"I truly don’t have much time for that." he grunts, though he knows you’re right. And the constant feeling of your attentive eyes was the actual reason why he actually forces himself to set aside his work and go take a breather. Even if he can’t actually breathe nor focus on the meditation itself.

"I…understand.." you reply reluctantly, fingertips brushing along his long collarbone pistons in a little affectionate way. He relaxes his schoulders slightly, subtly giving you more room to caress, and interwhines his hands together in the meditation gesture.

You continue to glide your hand against his metal, almost trying to calm down its unusual warmth — countless hours of mulling over his duties must have caused him to overheat. Mindlessly, your fingers wander further, over his ribbed chest and up to his neck, where they stumble upon the shiny ends of his cable hair. And that soft clank of them gives you an idea.

You sit on the bed, right behind him. An unusual angle — were his shoulders and back always this wide…and somehow heartening to look at? Like you could lean on it and feel the safest in the whole world… He sit on the floor and you still have to slightly raise your hands to carefully grasp his hair, moving it all back. You can feel him flinch just for a bit and you can’t help but smile at him being startled by such a simple touch.

"What are you doing?"

"I’ll just put them up for you," you say softly, shuffling through the thick cables in your hands, feeling their pleasant weight and quiet clanking. He almost scoffs at your offering.

"There’s no need for that-"

"Hush now." you insist, hands brushing through his cables length. "I know how it feels when they start to clutter around and piss you off. Just let me help you a lil’ bit."

And he modulates a sigh, returning to his meditating posture. That’s where you take things into your own hands — and with that, you start to work. Carefully combing his hair, then parting down the center, then starting to weave some cables together in the order only known to you. Your hands go slowly, taking strand by strand so carefully, like it would hurt him otherwise — and Ramattra can’t help but to concentrate only on your movements, feeling every subtle tug and twist you made with his cords, but oh with such care, it makes his circuits warm up…

"What are you planning to make?" he asks after a few minutes of pure silence and, suddenly, you can sense something new in his quiet tone. A hint of hesitation…but in a good way. Oh, it clicks for you immidiately and you can’t help but to chuckle softly.

"Just braids" you murmur, leaning in to give him a sweet little kiss on the top of his head. Such a simple tender gesture, yet it almost makes him falter.

"Braids?..." his head tilts in confusion — and you have to grab it by the sides gently and turn back up.

"Hey, stay still! They’re gonna look great on you, trust me…" your adorable reassurance doesn’t leave him another choice but to surrender. Though, he does find himself enjoying this whole unnesessary braiding thing…Your presence so close and your gentle little hands doing some magic with his hair, these bulky cables following your lead, not without some struggling first, but still. It’s you — you’re doing something for him. You’re here, by his side, all this time…It’s enough to finally let all these irritating thoughts begone. His mind fills with nothings, sweet nothings indeed: your hands playing around with his hair and your breathing quietly making the peaceful rythm of the moment. You are with him.

Is this…the tranquility Zen is always talking about?

He doesn’t realise how long you two were sitting like this. He simply doesn’t care now — everything seems to matter less and less the more you’re tangling your hands in his cables. But eventually, you make the final tugs and withdraw from him.

"Here you go.."

"Already?" he asks too quickly, with an undertone of longing. The moment dissapears so fast, no matter how hard he hopes it to last just a little longer.

"It took me nearly an hour!" you laugh at his question, hands running down your little piece of art. Two thick french braids go from the upper corners of his faceplate down along his head, slightly resembling dragon horns which reach up laying on his shoulders where your hands carefully move them. The weaving was quite simple but made so thoroughly the ends don’t even need something to tie them up — the rubbery texture and the tight neat braiding hold the cables together without any additional knots.

"Now, turn to me."

He slowly does so, feeling how the movements of his head became freer. It feels almost like getting your body part replaced. The same, but somehow still different. He doesn’t feel like he dislikes it, he just isn’t used to the sensation, doesn’t know where to place it within his system — but when he sees himself in the mirror you brought up to his face, he understands it immideately. Love.

Not with the braids, though he does like the way they look on him. He is in love with you. That unconditional, utter feeling which makes his circuits overheat and that electric pulse go haywire till the HUD flashes with a bunch of new warnings. That feeling he thought he never ever would be able to share with someone…

And there are you, looking at him fondly, while being so busy adjusting the way the cables twist around his faceplate.

"You’re gorgeous…You already knew that, don’t you?"

"I-…" his voice stutters into a static — clearly from your sweet words — and he tilts his head slightly to admire your work. "I love it. Thank you, babe" his faceplate lowers to gently press against the crook of your neck, soft vibrations in omnicode expressing the whole of his feelings that he can’t quite place in words now, mimicking the tender kisses. And the way you slightly shy away from his touch, giggling and whining playfully that it’s ticklish — it only makes him fall for you even more, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you flush against his body in a tight embrace, letting himself nuzzle into your neck and get lost in your charming laugher.

A half an hour goes by unnoticed in the sweetest cuddles for the last week, accompanied by cute little pecks here and there, the soft sounds of your whispers, his quiet murmurs and the clanks of his cable braid’s ends when you playfully nudge him in the chest. Yet, suddenly, your eyes flash with an another idea and you pull away, leaving him puzzled and eager to just grab and move you back there for more cuddles.

"Now, you stay here." you lean against the wall and grab your sketchbook, opening it on the new page and biting down on your pencil, looking thoughtfully at your dear omnic, admiring the way confusion stirs within him.

"Why?"

"I need to capture your beauty" and you can hear him steaming from your words.

~~~~~~~

thank u for the idea, @statuetochka <з you make me feel so inspired with your art, hope this lil piece will make you smile