#this took (checks notes) THREE ENTIRE YEARS

[esteemed-excellency]

[pellucid-constellations]

Checks and Balances

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your boss was an ass—you knew it, the office knew it, the entire country knew it. Working for Senator Brown was never easy, but you had managed it for the better part of three years and didn’t want to see your career go up in flames. Unfortunately for you, Bucky was slowly falling in love with you, and Congressman Barnes didn’t think managing it was enough. 

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Injury (kinda), hospitals, angst, an abusive boss, protective Bucky!!

a/n: Ahh a Bucky fic that's not an AU (that's also one million words)! Idk how the government works tbh so sorry if things are a little inaccurate there lol. This takes place right before Thunderbolts! Thank you for reading, I love you!! ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

“Congressman Barnes,” you greeted, a slight nod of your head the only acknowledgement you could afford. Senator Brown was only a moment away from screaming at you again, and you could only take so much screaming in one day.  

Bucky, unfortunately, did not care about being screamed at by Senator Brown. He took your upper arm in a light grip and shot you a confused smile. “What, you avoiding me? Can’t be seen in the halls talking to me?” 

A fairer assessment of Bucky’s interruption was that he didn’t know of the wrath Senator Brown could incite upon you. Sure, Bucky knew that Brown was a hardass, and by association, his executive assistant would have to put up with it, but he had no way of knowing just how terrible the man was. 

When you met Bucky a few weeks ago, you had been alone in a hotel lobby. The heels accompanying your freshly pressed pantsuit had been killing you, and you needed a moment for your feet to breathe. Bucky, apparently, also needed a moment away from the conference, and you had gotten to talking when he plopped into the overstuffed armchair beside you. 

He knew you worked for Senator Brown. You knew he was a Congressman, obviously. You also knew his background and the complexities that came with it. Many people in the political space turned up their noses at him, something you had a similar experience with as you were “only an assistant.” The two of you had joked about it, eventually making your way to the hotel bar and laughing over the amount of hidden toupees currently residing in the ballroom.

In the weeks that followed, you had texted with him, met for coffee twice because he was “in the area”, and had maybe even considered the fact that you were friends with Congressman Barnes. Friends were invaluable to have in D.C., but they were also something to be wary of. Bucky didn’t feel the type to be wary of. 

As you stood halfway frozen in the hallway, his comment began to make sense. He was calling back to your initial hotel conversation, making a joke about biases and stuck-up politicians, but this was not the time. Not that he could have known. 

Senator Brown barked out your name when he noticed you were no longer beside him, surely trying to get you to jot down some thought banging around in his head. You whipped your head to the side, almost missing the affronted expression on Bucky’s face as he registered the tone that your name was spoken in, and shook your arm from his hold. 

“Sorry, Congressman,” you murmured, turning on your heel and making quick strides in Brown’s direction. “I apologize. What can I do for you, Senator?” 

Your boss barely hid a scoff. “You can start by being where I need you to be. And write this down—I do not believe that the House takes the proper—” 

You scrambled to take out your phone and open the notes app. A rookie mistake; you usually had it open the second his meetings ended, but you had been distracted. By Bucky. 

Your heels hurriedly clicking against polished marble, you took a fleeting glance over your shoulder. Bucky remained there, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest, metal from his hand glinting against the gentle fluorescence of the hall. 

Three days later, he brought it up. 

You thought you’d found a private spot to scarf down your lunch in your allotted fifteen-minute break, but with a sandwich only half finished and your mouth full, the call of your name reminded you that there is never any privacy for you at this job. The sound of Bucky’s voice softened the blow a bit. 

“He always treat you like that?” Bucky asked, swinging his leg over the bench on the other side of the table. He watched as you tried to chew quickly, some of the hardness he’d sat down with melting from his expression. 

You covered your mouth with your hand and swallowed hard. “What?” you finally got out, reaching for your water bottle. 

Bucky raised a brow. “Brown. Does he always yell at you?” 

After a few sips and swallows, you gave up on being able to finish your lunch. You had to plan out your meals very meticulously to finish, and Bucky had already taken up 30 precious seconds. 

“Oh,” you began. You swiped a hand through the air. “It’s fine. He just gets a little intense sometimes. It’s just his personality.” 

“You’ve been working for him for three years.” 

“Right.” 

“The guy should treat you better. He could only keep assistants for a few weeks at a time before you.” 

“How do you know that?” 

Bucky slid your food towards you. “Eat. You looked like you were in a hurry when I got here.” 

You eyed him for a moment. With his hair tucked behind his ears, you could see the tenseness of his jaw and the shadow of his beard dusting above his collar. It was no secret that Bucky was alarmingly handsome in a sea of 60-year-old politicians, but you had never gotten the opportunity to see it at work. You were always too busy, and Bucky’s office was three floors down. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you back,” you said, reaching for the fruit in your bag. “I meant to. I’ve just been working late since the meeting on Monday.” 

“It’s alright.” A pause as you continued to eat your food. You had maybe four minutes left. “How late?” 

“Oh, um, I’ve been going home around 10. It’s such a pain in the ass to get a taxi at that time, you wouldn’t believe. Uber isn’t much better, and I definitely can’t walk home in these things,” you joked, motioning to the bandaids strapped behind your heels. “It’s not so bad, though. After about a month of late nights, Brown will go on a “vacation,” and I’ll have a few weeks to reign in the chaos during normal business hours.” 

You were giggling as you spoke, adding air quotes and sarcasm to try to alleviate the irritated look Bucky was sporting. After a few weeks of being around him, you understood that Bucky was quieter than you, but his silence right now was pressing. Your jokes weren’t getting him to talk, so you switched gears. 

Popping a grape in your mouth, you asked, “What are you doing up here, anyway?” 

Bucky let out a breath and tapped his hand on the table. “Honestly? I came to check on you.” 

“To check on me?” 

“After Monday, I wanted to make sure—” 

Your phone started going off, the “Senator Brown” contact making your blood run cold. You brought your watch up and let out a gasp that made Bucky jump. 

“What?” he rushed, standing from the table as you started to pack your things in a panic. He went to help you, but after two brushes of his hands, he realized he was only in the way. 

“My break was over two minutes ago. I have to go right now.” 

“Two minutes? What—y/n, that isn’t—” 

He was here to check on you. Right. That was really sweet. 

Your brain tried to catch up with your panic as you reached over and squeezed his arm gratefully. “I’m really fine, Bucky. It was nice to see you. We should get coffee again.” You were sliding through the double doors and back into the building as you called, “I’ll text you. I promise this time.” 

And you did. In the seven minutes of free time you got around 9 pm, you sent him a quick follow-up text. The bubble went right below his text from two days ago, and you felt a small pinch of guilt for not answering him until now.

You: Free Saturday morning?

He answered you almost instantly.

Bucky: Depends. Are you still at work right now?

You frowned at your phone. 

You: If I am does that mean you won’t get coffee with me?

Bucky: So you are 

You: …maybe 

And then, your seven minutes of silence were up. When Brown’s footsteps could be heard by the door, you tucked your phone into your desk and went to work on the stack of papers he assigned you. He so graciously let you know that he was going home now, and you could leave once you were finished. 

That was perfect. 

It took you an hour and a half, but when you sorted the final paper and checked his schedule for tomorrow for the last time, a sense of relief flooded you. You didn’t even care that it would take another 30 minutes for an Uber to arrive. All you could think about was your shower and your bed and taking these shoes off your feet. 

You gathered your belongings and swiped your phone from the desk, clicking to the rideshare app and somewhat dreading the small talk to come. It would be extremely convenient to have a car, but that wasn’t something in the cards for you. Your tiny apartment had barely any parking, and everything else was within walking distance. 

As you continued to ponder the pros and cons of taking the bus home, a honk from the curb made you jump. You lowered your phone and squinted into the distance of the now barren road. 

“Someone order an Uber?” 

Disbelief was your first emotion, and then shock and then confusion. “Buck—Congressman Barnes?” you asked, correcting yourself when the memory of the building at your back resurfaced. 

“You’re not getting in my car if you’re calling me that,” Bucky replied, leaning down to peer out the passenger-side window. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked him for the second time today.

“I told you, I’m driving for Uber. You called for one?” 

A disbelieving laugh fell from your lips. You shook your phone by your face and leaned down towards the window. “Haven’t even ordered it yet. I’m not supposed to get in the car unless they can put in the code verifying my identity.” 

“Give me a code, then. Here,” he passed you his phone, the background illuminating a small white cat. “Wait, sorry, I have to unlock it.” 

Your next laugh was more of a scoff as he reached through the window to take it back. “Seriously, what are you doing here?” 

Bucky paused, looking you up and down for a moment before his jaw ticked to the side in a smile. “I’m taking you home. You live close, it won’t take very long.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking. Now, hurry up and get in. I’ve been in the fire lane for 20 minutes and parking enforcement hates me here.” 

You went to argue again, but Bucky only raised a brow and unlocked the doors. 

Sliding in the car was somewhat of a mess with your bag and your jacket and the file you had meant to finish at home almost suffocating you. Bucky tried to help, grabbing items and waiting for you to buckle in before placing them by your feet. You were flustered from the transition, trying to adjust your skirt and seatbelt as Bucky reached forward to tuck a strand of hair stuck in your lip gloss behind your ear. 

You turned to look at him instantly, but the man only gave you a closed-lip smile and shifted the gear of his car, pulling away from the building of your nightmares. You blinked back towards the dashboard, needing a few more seconds to settle yourself. 

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel guilty,” you stressed to Bucky after he flipped the radio on, low music trickling in. “When I told you about staying late, I mean.” 

Bucky tsked, knocking his head to the side to shoot you a lingering glance. “You didn’t, alright? This is my own problem. I just didn’t feel comfortable with you trying to find a way home so late.” 

“I’ve been doing it for a while and I haven’t died yet,” you attempted to joke. 

Not the best joke, it seemed, with Bucky’s fist clutching the steering wheel a hair tighter, the sound of leather meeting your ears. He shook his head. “Where’s Brown? He doesn’t let you take work home?” 

“Oh, he does sometimes,” you chipperly replied, trying to sound awake and get Bucky un-pissed off. “He just checks my timesheets when we work overtime, so I have to make sure I stay late enough so that he won’t say anything. I still have this to take care of once I get home.”

You tapped the manila file in your lap and looked over to Bucky as he drove. He was wearing jeans and a pullover crewneck, his hair tied back and casual, and even though you’d seen him outside of work before, he looked different this way. Something about the night and him driving you home made him look different. 

Bucky didn’t make a comment about your work or the system you had to avoid criticism from the Senator. Silence lapsed in the car, you lightly drumming your fingers on your thigh as the D.C. night swept past along the car windows. 

“I would like to get coffee Saturday,” Bucky finally said. “If the offer still stands.” 

“Of course it stands.” 

You only briefly caught the half-smile that lit up his face before the light of the streets was lost to a tunnel. 

~~

Coffee was relaxed and enjoyable, as it always was with Bucky. He asked a few more questions about your work, a topic he had previously not touched on. He wanted to know about your coworkers, if the interns ever helped you, how much time you got off, and in turn, you asked him about being a Congressman and if he actually enjoyed it. 

Both answers left the other person less than satisfied. 

“What about you?” Bucky asked, tilting his cup up. “Why have you been an executive assistant for so long?” 

You hummed. “I don’t know, really. My dad was in politics, and he would only really accept my work if I was, too. He’s… not around now, but I feel like I have to stay. I’m good at it.” 

“I believe it. Could be good at a lot of things, though.” 

You shot him a mock glare. “Trying to get rid of me, Congressman?” 

Bucky leaned forward, placing a hand on the small table that only separated you a few inches. He answered you earnestly, but a small amount of humor lightened his eyes, made him look less serious. “Now, why would I want to do that?” 

Your lips parted to quip something back, but then he was raising his hand again, the heat of his skin lingering at the corner of your mouth. He swiped his thumb there, and you were frozen, a replica of when he brushed your hair back a few nights ago, but the car had been a distraction then. You had been flustered and trying to sort out your belongings, so you didn’t think about it for longer than a few seconds. 

“Whipped cream,” he explained, holding you in his gaze for a moment longer than you should have been. Even as the barista from behind the counter was now standing at your table and speaking. 

“Hi! Would the two of you like to try our new coffee cake? Free samples since it’s new.” 

Bucky was the first to look away, tearing his eyes from yours to smile politely at the barista. You shook from your stupor and quickly reached for a napkin, brushing it against your lips even though nothing remained. 

You felt fuzzy, confused. But also nothing was confusing and you were reminded, again, how attractive the Congressman was. How attractive and how definitely off-limits he was. 

It would be so taboo for Bucky to be dating an assistant. 

“What about you, ma’am?” You blinked several times and looked up to read the small ‘coffee cake’ sign lying next to the treats, the barista’s blinding smile expecting and very retail. 

“I’m allergic to cinnamon, but thank you.” 

“Allergic to cinnamon?” Bucky asked as the barista left.

“Yeah, anaphylaxis and everything. I carry an epipen with me, but I’ve only had to use it once when I was 10. Did you know that some bakeries add cinnamon to buttercream birthday cakes?” you chuckled, reorienting yourself to the present. “Are you allergic to anything? Or, I guess you probably aren’t. Isn’t that a serum thing?” 

“Not allergic to anything, but if I had been, it would’ve been wiped out by the serum. We didn’t really have a lot of food variety in the 30s. Could have been allergic to shellfish—didn’t try that until after.” 

You had to pause the cup at your lips. “Oh my god, I forgot you’re like 100 years old.” 

Bucky’s expression morphed into an offended wince. “Alright, I wouldn’t say that. I haven’t exactly lived 100 years.” 

“I was just thinking the other day how you don’t exactly fit in with the rest of Congress, but you so do! Maybe even on the young side,” you teased. 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky egged on, nodding with his brows raised. “You were thinking about me?” 

You knocked your head back in a laugh, holding your stomach with your forearm. “How did I forget this?” 

“You know what? I’m not driving you home anymore.” 

With lingering giggles, you righted yourself in your chair, a smile still clear in your voice. Contrasting his words, Bucky’s smile was just as wide as yours, a slight redness to his cheeks making him look softer. You brought a hand to cover his arm on the table. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Bucky. You aren’t old. I take it back.” 

“Yeah, you better,” he taunted, though his arm flipped over and he gave your wrist a soft squeeze as he said it. 

~~

Bucky wouldn’t stop touching you. 

You didn’t know if he was doing it consciously or if this was something he commonly did with his friends, but he was going to get you in trouble. 

Outside of work, it was fine—distracting and disorienting, but fine. A brush of his hand helping you into the car, fixing your bag on your shoulder, a hand on your back when you left the coffee shop; over the past few weeks, it had all begun to feel commonplace. 

It could have been frequency that made you more aware of this habit of his, because Bucky had begun picking you up every time you worked late and planned coffee or lunch or even a walk at least once a weekend. So, maybe this was his norm and you were just around him more often—something you enjoyed, but also something that made feelings more difficult. 

Because, again, Congressman Barnes could not be dating an assistant. His credibility among the rest of Congress was already being questioned almost daily, and he did not need the court of public opinion breathing down his neck on top of that. It was a fortunate truth that while the internal part of his job was tricky, most of the public favored him. 

So, as much as your chest hurt and your stomach flipped whenever you were around him, you settled for friendship. A touchy friendship. 

At work, things felt heightened in the worst way possible. 

You couldn’t even understand why he was coming to the top floor so often, seemingly lingering there so he could scare the crap out of you when you’d turn a corner. And then it would be a smile and another hand at your back when he was passing you—a hand that was not necessary. Or he would find you at the tail-end of your lunch break and move your hair away from your eyes, distracting you to the point of no return. 

It was the worst because you were getting distracted, and when you were distracted, you got yelled at. 

Bucky had seen you get yelled at a few times now, each seemingly worse than the last. He kept quiet about it, but you could tell it bothered him. He almost stepped in once—when Brown was irate at the coffee you’d gotten him and chucked it at the wall, you saw Bucky step forward from down the hall. He stopped at the slight shake of your head. 

You were used to the Senator throwing things, and as long as it wasn’t in your direction, it was no harm done. At least, that’s what you thought. 

“You should go to human resources,” Bucky commented one Sunday, the two of you sitting along a lake by the Capitol building. 

You almost snorted. “Right. And what do you think old Mrs. Martha is going to be able to do for me? Brown has been in office for over a decade. If anything, that would just get me fired.” 

Bucky shook his head, expression taut. “There’s gotta be something else then. You don’t deserve all of that.” 

“If we’re talking about not deserving torment, I think I’m the least of our worries here, Sergeant,” you noted, knocking your shoulder against his in an attempted lightness. 

But when you turned to look at him, Bucky was already facing you. “I’m serious, y/n. He’s throwing things at you. I’ve stayed out of it because you told me to, but after today—” 

“Bucky, hey,” you calmed. “I know it seems crazy, but I know how to deal with it. I know he won’t actually do anything.”

“Right now, maybe.” 

You sighed, searching his eyes and trying to discern when this became such an intense conversation. Trying to figure out when the two of you had discussions like this and not just lax coffee hangouts. Against your better judgment, you placed a hand over his thigh and relented. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll work on it, but I’ll be the one working on it, okay? It definitely can’t be you—he would freak out if a representative started ordering him around. Even if you could totally knock him out.” 

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, a smile begrudgingly sneaking onto his face. “I can’t believe you’re joking about this.” 

“You can definitely believe that.” 

“Yeah, I can.” And then you were tugged against his starched, ironed suit, his metal arm holding you close to his chest.

You gasped a little at the initial contact, your heart hammering against your ribs as Bucky simply kept you there. This is dangerous, your brain reminded you, but it was also harmless, if you looked at it the right way. 

“You know, I’m not going to die, Bucky. I’ve dealt with this for years.” 

“Yeah, you keep joking about that,” he gruffly replied, the words a ghost against the top of your head. You hadn’t realized his lips were that close. “If we could keep the death jokes to a minimum, that would be great.” 

You pulled back from him enough to look at his face. “Why? Afraid your only friend will bite it?” 

“Hey, I have other friends.” 

“I haven’t seen ‘em.” 

“Shut up,” he groaned, tugging you back in. “You can meet them as proof. Next weekend.” 

“Okay, sure, Bucky,” you sang out, tapping his chest. “But if we need to reschedule this meeting with your 'friends,’ I would understand.” 

As Bucky went on to refute your insinuations in a grumpy tone, you tried to pretend that this felt like that—just a friendship. 

~~

Approximately four days later, everything went to shit. 

Senator Brown was on a tirade, screaming at everyone and everything in his path. When he got like this, the admin staff usually locked the doors to his office and the entire floor if they could, but today, they weren’t ready for how angry he was. 

It was a bill, or a speech, or maybe even the press catching wind that he was cheating on his wife—it didn’t matter. He was pissed and you were going to have to answer for it. 

You stood in his office with a clear view of the glass wall connecting to the hallway, hands behind your back and fighting off a wince with every curse and insult the Senator threw at you. 

“I hired you to take care of this bullshit! Why the hell am I dealing with this when I’m supposed to have an entire staff? This is fucked!” 

“You’re too worried about going home early, you can’t even assemble a reply to an email correctly! A fucking email!”

“I should’ve fired you weeks ago. When you started fucking off to wherever you take too long for your lunch break and stopped doing your job. I swear to god, this country has—” 

You were only retaining about half of what he said, which was good, considering everything was an attack on you, and your work ethic, and then he even started going in on your clothes and your apartment. It must have been something really bad this time. After he was done yelling, you would check his texts and probably find a couple of mentions of divorce sprinkled in between messages with his lawyers. 

Affairs and divorce were always messy for politicians. 

“Of course, Senator. I will do better. I apologize,” you offered, unsure what you were apologizing for at the present. It wouldn’t matter; he would just start up again about another topic. 

“Damn right you will or I’ll send you out on the streets. Do you know how hard it is to get a job in D.C when a Senator blacklists you?” 

Did you ever. 

When Bucky had asked you why you stayed, you left out that key bit of information. He was still newer to the field and didn’t need to know that Senator Brown held that over your head each time you even hinted at moving on. 

You figured the screaming was almost over. Brown was in his 60s, so he would be getting tired. And it probably would have been over if he hadn’t checked his Apple Watch and read a text that got him fired up once more.

You greatly regretted setting that up for him. 

You braced yourself for further yelling as his face began to turn red, but were alarmed as the Senator reached for the wooden pencil case on his desk and threw it. Pens flew, and you knew he wasn’t aiming for you, but the cup hit a vase on a high bookshelf to your right, which then toppled over and shook loose the framed art hanging above your head. 

You should have moved, but you spotted Bucky in the hall, and he always distracted you. 

The frame shot straight down, smacking you in the head and causing your knees to buckle in surprise. You fell to the ground, feeling dramatic and disoriented as the room silenced and your ears rang. You knew he wouldn’t apologize, but the continued quiet as you pushed yourself up and sat back on your haunches was almost deafening. 

The glass door to the office swung open. 

“What the hell?” A hand was on your elbow. A colder one felt around the top of your head. It was Bucky, obviously it was Bucky, but you were too afraid to look, keeping your gaze locked on Senator Brown. “Hey, you okay?” 

The hand on your head moved down to your jaw, forcing your gaze to Bucky. He searched every inch of your face as you blinked at him, mind blank. “Um, I’m fine.” 

Your brows furrowed, trying to connect the chain of events that led to this. You brought your hand up to replace where Bucky had placed his, the action seemingly spurring him into action. 

“The hell is wrong with you, huh?” Bucky shouted, rising from the floor. “You think it makes you tough to throw things at her?” 

Senator Brown had gone from furious to unsure, probably aware of the physical strength Bucky harbored. But, as was typical with politicians, he would not put anything before his pride. Brown righted his expression and pursed his lips. 

“I wasn’t trying to hit her, Congressman. It was a simple accident. You weren’t even in the room to see it happen.” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t need to be. You’re screaming at her when you’re not throwing. What kinda grown man does that?” 

“Bucky—” you cautioned, glued to the floor still. 

The senator directed his attention towards you, brows raised accusingly. “Oh, so you’ve been gossiping about me, then?” 

You shrank back, hand lingering where your head ached, but Bucky stepped in front of you, blocking you from Brown’s line of sight. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Bucky seethed, jutting a finger into Brown’s chest. 

Brown’s head sharply turned. “That you are, Congressman. But it seems like my assistant here no longer wants her role, so this conversation is moot.” 

“Wait, I—” 

“Maybe if you spent time picking on someone your own size instead of acting like a coward—” 

“Bucky, don’t—” 

“A coward? A coward? Who’s the one who cannot speak for himself on the board? Tell me, Barnes, is that part of some unresolved trauma from some nondescript decade?” 

“You shut your mouth before I—” 

“Congressman Barnes,” you called, authority that didn’t belong to you heavy in your tone. You were two seconds away from losing your job and being blacklisted, neither of which you could handle. Bucky froze, his anger still held in his shoulders. “Thank you for your concern, as I’m sure you were just passing by when you saw what happened, but I can assure you that it was an accident and I am fine.” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder with furrowed brows, but took a step back and dropped his hands by his sides when he caught your expression—still disheveled, but resolute in your decision. He needed to leave. You needed to save your career. You could… figure everything else out later. Probably. 

You bit into your bottom lip until it hurt. 

Bucky looked at the wall behind your head and then tracked his gaze to the forming lump on your crown. “But—” 

“I am fine,” you repeated slowly. Having risen from the floor before calling his name, you walked to the door and held it open. “We’re very busy. Please excuse us.” 

Bucky licked his lips as he looked to the floor, shaking his head in abject disbelief and following your direction. When he met the entryway, he tilted his head slightly, opening his mouth to say something, but thinking against it. His hand twitched at his side, and then he left, taking long, purposeful strides away from the office. 

You took a deep breath, allowed yourself a moment as the door closed, and then you did something purposeful yourself. Even if it killed you to do so. 

~~

Bucky’s POV

Bucky was losing his mind. 

After leaving Brown’s office, he’d stormed into his own and promptly shut and locked the door. Tugging his tie away from his neck and prying the uncomfortable suit jacket from his shoulders, Bucky then began to pace. He was pissed. He was so beyond pissed. 

It would have been so easy for him to knock that Senator out, and he would have deserved it. Bucky had had to watch for weeks as you were berated and screamed at, and then the line was crossed when he saw him throwing things. You hadn’t let him do anything, and then you hadn’t let him do anything again after you’d been hurt. 

He watched you flinch and cover your face, and even that hadn’t been enough. 

Bucky swiped a hand over his mouth. 

When had you started to matter to him so much? That was a stupid question, and apparently, he was full of stupidity today.

He promised that he’d let you take care of it, and then he went in there and almost killed Senator Brown. A replay of you falling to the ground looped in his mind, and actually Bucky didn’t feel stupid at all. All he felt was rage. 

“Shit,” he breathed out, knocking his head back and falling back into his office chair.

He’d messed up. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but he knew you were not happy with him. What did “taking care of it” even mean? And why were you so dead set on keeping that awful job? Bucky could think of at least a dozen other jobs in D.C. that would not involve you being verbally and physically abused. 

Fuck, he wished he had more pull, but as a Congressman of only a few months, there was little he could do against a Senator. And he had a meeting in five minutes. 

Bucky pulled his phone out and sent you a quick text about talking after work, let out the longest sigh of his life, and then readjusted his tie. 

That had been three days ago. 

You never texted him back. And you left the building far before he could give you a ride home. When he asked your coworkers, they said you were no longer working overtime and left during normal hours. 

Fine. That was good, actually. Only, Bucky never saw you. 

He frequented all of your normal spots, wandered up to the top floor, and even stopped by the coffeeshop two days in a row, and you were nowhere. Avoiding him, obviously, and while he understood (he didn’t), he mostly wanted to put eyes on you. To make sure you were okay. 

Sure, you didn’t have a severe head injury, but it was more than that. 

Bucky brought his turmoil to the barbecue Sam was holding that weekend. The one you were supposed to be at. 

Nursing his fifth beer that wouldn’t do anything, Bucky leaned back against the fence of Sam’s yard and sulked. He’d talked to a few people when he got there, but sulking was on his agenda for the afternoon. 

“What’s up with the stank face?” Sam asked, entering Bucky’s orbit of solitude and despair. “It’s gonna get stuck like that if you keep it up.” 

“I don’t have a stank face,” Bucky argued. 

“Right, right. Well, right now you have more of a pissed off face, but I guess I bring that out in you.” Sam paused and then smacked Bucky in the shoulder. “Come on, man. What’s going on, seriously? Does it have to do with that girl you were supposed to bring?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” 

“Oh, you don’t? Then it’s that.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, knocking back more of his beer as the sizzle of burgers juxtaposed with his somberness. “Alright, fine. It’s that. But it’s stupid. We weren’t even…”

“Dating?” 

“Yeah. That.” 

“You told me you went out for coffee and all that. That you would go on long walks at the lake and canoodle at work.”

“Are you going to take this seriously?” Bucky accused. “‘Cause if you’re not, I’m leaving right now. I’ll leave.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” Sam surrendered, raising his hands. “But really, Buck, that all sounds like dating. Tell me why she didn’t come.” 

Bucky clenched his jaw and stared out at the merriment of the barbecue, remembering the scene more vividly than he would have liked. He tried to find an exact moment that would have led to you avoiding him, but he couldn’t pin it down. Maybe it was the entire thing? 

“I think she’s mad at me. I kinda went off on her boss and she told me she wanted to take care of it.” 

“What do you mean ‘went off��? And isn’t she working under a Senator?”

Bucky puffed out a breath. “Yeah, Senator Brown.” Sam let out a low whistle as Bucky continued. “He yells at her. Throws things. I felt like it crossed a line this week, so I guess I kinda stormed in. She threw me out and’s been avoiding me since. We had talked about it before and she said to stay out of it, but, Sam, the guy’s a dick.” 

“And you really like her,” Sam added casually. “And I really like her,” Bucky confirmed. 

Sam paused to contemplate, though Bucky didn’t know what he could possibly offer that Bucky hadn’t already considered. He really, really liked you—more than he figured possible, especially with all of his attempts at dating since his pardon. But then you’d surprised him that night at the hotel, and he’d been hooked. 

He hadn’t even had the chance to tell you.

“Well, two things,” Sam began, leaning on the fence next to Bucky. “Sounds like she knows what she’s doing, so you should have trusted her. But—” Sam cut out as Bucky opened his mouth “—it also sounds like Brown’s a major ass with a lot of power. You don’t know what he might have over her, slimy dude like that.” 

“What, you mean like blackmail?” 

“Maybe, who knows? You just gotta talk to her, man. Work it out.” 

Sam clapped Bucky on the shoulder before wading back into the party in the yard. Bucky, feeling somewhat lighter but also still at peril, kicked off the fence and made his own attempts at being sociable. 

“As soon as I can actually find her,” he grumbled to himself. 

~~

The charity gala had been on your calendar for the past six months, and still, nothing could have prepared you for how much you didn’t want to attend. 

You usually enjoyed events like this. You got to dress up and eat nice food, and Brown always got too drunk to remember that his assistant was even in the building. The first hour felt like work, and then the rest of the night was cosplaying as a rich politician. 

That was not the case for this gala. 

Ever since the ordeal with Bucky, Senator Brown had kept you on a tight leash. Whether that was due to how much he enjoyed intimidating you or his fear that you actually were telling people he was a mean, abusive boss, didn’t matter. All that mattered was that this gala was going to suck and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You had apologized profusely, swore up and down that you didn’t know Congressman Barnes, and practically pledged your life to Brown in every way you knew how. You never left the office, never took a lunch break—you were pretty sure your eyes were permanently dry from how long you stared at a screen all day. 

Making you attend this gala and not leave his side was another ploy to make you atone for your wrongdoings. Maybe the man knew how much you enjoyed these events and was taking advantage of that. 

“Check this,” Senator Brown lazily ordered, draping his coat over your arms. “And meet me back in the dining room. You get to sit right next to me.” 

You offered him a tight smile and felt the ache in your shoulders begin to fester. You were more uptight this week than ever, but that had nothing to do with Bucky Barnes. Nothing. 

It was just this job and your future in D.C. hanging in the balance. 

Obviously. 

You meandered over to the coat check, taking longer than you needed to and dragging your feet along the way. Your phone was buzzing incessantly in your bag—most likely some PR fire you’d need to put out before more people realized Brown was cheating on his wife—and you had absolutely no inclination to drag it out. 

“Just these two,” you offered, pressing the coats into the attendant's hands and taking the ticket in return. 

“Actually, can you add this one to that ticket?” 

As if this night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable. 

You could feel his chest against your back even before you heard him. He shifted his arms out of his sleeves and placed a hand on your shoulder as he leaned towards the counter. Of course he smelled good. Why wouldn’t he?

You fought the urge to roll your eyes in repressed… something and spun on your heel. 

He was just as close as you were expecting and also far too close for comfort. You knocked your head back to catch his gaze, trying to appear unamused and angry. 

“Why would you do that?” you asked. 

Bucky paused for a moment, searching the planes of your face for a beat too long before replying, “No reason to open another ticket. I’ll just leave when you leave.” 

“You mean you’ll leave when Brown leaves, then?” 

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “So, nothing's changed.”

This time, you did roll your eyes. You clutched the coat check number in your hand and began to storm off, not in the headspace to have this conversation at this gala. Bucky, however, did not seem to mind. 

The hand on your arm was soft but firm as you were tugged into a closet and subsequently shoved into a rack of hanging coats. It was too dim to see beyond your hands out in front of you, but Bucky solved that predicament as he entered your space. 

“Did you seriously just throw me into a closet?” you whisper-yelled, all too aware of the staff only feet away. 

“I had no choice,” he replied with the same urgency. “You were stomping off. And I didn’t throw you in here.” 

“I was not stomping off,” you scoffed. 

“You were.” 

“Was not!” 

“I could hear your heels. You were stomping.” 

You groaned, pushing into his chest to try and create distance that wasn’t available. Your back only hit the wall. 

“Fine. What do you want?” 

Bucky froze for a moment. “I… I didn’t actually think you’d stay in here. Or let me talk, if I’m being honest. 

Your jaw fell open, an incredulous laugh slipping out. You’d almost forgotten how endearing he was in just about everything he did. Even as he stood in front of you in a full, three-piece suit, smushing you against a closet wall because he had dragged you in there with no plan, a part of your chest warmed. 

Your phone vibrated in your bag, and that warmth turned to ice. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you determined, wiggling your way towards the door. 

“Wait, hold on. I do have something to say, wait,” Bucky pleaded, metal hand—more gentle than you were sure it was ever used for—encircling your wrist. He tugged you back even closer this time, your face inches from his. “I wanted to say sorry. And… and I want to get it.” 

“Get it?” you parroted, trying extremely hard to ignore the dropping feeling in your gut as he stared into your eyes. 

“I want to get why you stay. Why you let him treat you like that. I want to know so I can… feel okay backing off.” 

All you could get out was, “Why?” 

Bucky’s next words were spoken as he stared down at your lips. “I think you know why.” 

Breaths began to fail you, each exhale more ragged than the last. You had been expecting this, in a way, and that was why you always made excuses. He couldn’t be with you because he was a Congressman. You were only an assistant. You couldn’t date him because you were too busy. He wouldn’t want to date you, anyway. Senator Brown would never be okay with it. 

All of those excuses evaporated within the shared space of the closet, and then you got scared. So, you blurted out what he wanted. 

“He won’t let me quit. He won’t let me work anywhere else.” 

Bucky blinked, a fog clearing from his heated gaze. His head jutted back an inch, and the hand that had somehow found a home on your jaw paused its ascent into your hair. “Won’t let you?” 

“I’d be blacklisted.” 

“He can’t do that.” 

“He can.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to speak again as the air in the closet became breathable and light peeked in from the cracking door. You sprang back from the Congressman, pushing his hand away from your cheek and slamming your back into the wall. It didn’t help much; the fifteen-year-old with the shawl in her hand was already making her own assumptions as you rushed past her and left Bucky to his own devices in the closet. 

Amazing. 

Just amazing. 

You debated moving states, or countries, or entire career paths as you hurried into the dining room of the gala. Not only had you taken too long at the coat check, but you knew you looked completely flushed and out of it. You prayed that Brown was already drinking and wouldn’t catch on. 

Thankfully, your prayers were answered. 

While he was not happy to see you, his raised brow and side-eye deadly as you sat down, he didn’t say anything. And that was how dinner went—quiet and uncomfortable for you, but otherwise par for the course for Senator Brown. 

Bucky was staring at you from across the table. The room was backlit by dull candles and expensive chandeliers, and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face like an unprecedented heat. He often flickered that gaze to Brown, but it would harden, become angry.

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing anyone could do. 

You either stuck it out with Brown or tossed your political science degree in the trash can on your way out.

When dinner passed and dessert was served, you eyed the lemon tart mocking you from your plate. Dessert, when your life felt so out of control and confusing, couldn’t hurt, you figured, so you picked up your fork and ignored the knots taking up space in your stomach. 

“Yours looks better.” Senator Brown picked up the lip of your plate and slid his in its place. “Here.” 

“But—” 

“Oh, don’t complain about it. Who complains about chocolate cake?” he peeved, snickering to the men on the other side of the table. He then went on a drunken rant about “good help” and the “youth of today” as you looked down at the cake in front of you. 

Was D.C. even worth it? 

Bucky was staring at you again. He wasn’t directly across from you, a few centerpieces blocking your view, but you could feel it. To avoid him—and your feelings—you ate the cake. Brown and the men sarcastically cheered as you did, alcohol clear in the air at this point, and you took another bite to get them to find some other novelty. 

You took three bites before it started to sink in. 

You vaguely registered that Bucky had pushed out from the table, a clink of silverware preceding the motion. It was too late for him, however, because as your own fork clattered down, you could no longer breathe. 

Your tongue felt ten times too big in your mouth and your throat was glued shut, air tunneling through any openings it could find. You pushed out from the table and stood. The extra space didn’t do anything. You clawed at your throat until your legs became unsteady and failed from the lack of oxygen. 

The table was extremely long, so at some point, you thought you heard Bucky dive over the dinner party rather than continue his trek around to your side. Other sounds filtered past the panic clogging your ears. 

“What’s wrong with her?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Is she allergic to something? It’s an allergic reaction!” 

“Brown, what is she allergic to?” 

“How should I know?” 

“Well, do something!” 

As you were grappling for your purse, a choked whine fell from your lips. It had been kicked somewhere, pushed out of your grasp, and no one at this damn gala was helping you. Several older women had gone to their knees with worried expressions at your eye line, but they weren’t doing anything. 

“Move.” 

Your head was beginning to spin, and your thoughts were blurring, but you heard Bucky. He came to your side much faster than it felt, moving things around that your blurred vision couldn’t catch. And then, pain. And then relief. 

Your gasping breaths were supported by gentle hands on your face, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones. You grappled at Bucky’s wrists and tried to parse out panic from physical symptoms, but there was so much commotion in the room and your head was still so fuzzy. 

“You’re okay,” Bucky assured you, voice almost too low to catch. Someone was on the phone with 911 in the back. “You can breathe with me. Come on. Don’t—hey—don’t look at them. Look at me.” 

Your chin was pushed forward, and then your forehead connected with his. Ringing persisted in your ears. Your hands were beginning to shake from the epi, your jaw following close behind. 

“I got you, okay?” 

“F-f-feels—” 

“I know,” he hushed. When your breath was somewhat steadier, he tucked your head beneath his chin and began barking out orders. He asked for an ETA on the ambulance, for your jacket, for ten other things you couldn’t register. And then, “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” 

The chaos of the room went silent. Within your shaking hands clutched in Bucky’s suit jacket, your fingers spasmed out of fear. 

“Excuse me?” Brown scoffed. You were honestly surprised he was still in the room.

“What, throwing things at her wasn’t enough? Had to try and kill her?” 

“B-bucky—” 

“Throwing things at her?” you heard from across the room. “Brown, what is Barnes talking about?” 

“I have no idea,” Brown spat out. He jutted his hand out towards you on the floor. “He never knows what he’s talking about. We’ve established that.” 

“Right,” Bucky deadpanned, pulling you closer to his chest as you gasped for breath. “So what do you call this?” 

“An accident, obviously.” 

Bucky let out a puff of air through his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. Silence blanketed the room once more, and it was clear that he had given up. His hands were glued to the back of your head and your back, and he didn’t have the time or the drive in him to care about Brown right now. 

“I saw you switch the plates.” The quiet voice came from across the table, the young blonde’s face registering in your memory as you peeked out from beyond Bucky’s chest. “She had a card with it, too. It said there was an allergy accommodation.” 

Low murmurs fell over the room. Brown, much to your surprise, looked at a loss for words, his expression betrayed as he stared at the woman across the room. It clicked then, where you knew her from. She was on the front cover of every article you were pressured to get taken down, and the contact photo for the main caller in Brown’s phone. 

“What? No,” Brown refuted, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, either. She’s barely even a secretary. She’s—” 

The eyes around the room made his words trail off. “Barely even a secretary” was certainly a degrading title for his mistress, and everyone in the room knew it. If you were to look at your phone, you’d have seen that the newest story of their relationship had been blowing up all night. You guessed she was fed up with him denying it. 

Sirens sounded beyond the doors of the ballroom, breaking up the tension at the wide table. Brown used it as his getaway, throwing his napkin down and muttering something about insolence or idiots or something of the sort. You couldn’t really hear anything over Bucky’s low whisper in your ear, followed by his lips against the side of your head. 

~~

After being monitored in the emergency room for approximately six hours, the night shift staff sent you off with a horde of medication to take for the next month and, of course, a new epipen. You trudged out past the waiting room, prepared to wait in the parking lot for an Uber, when a certain man sitting in a chair far too small for him caught your eye. 

He was half asleep, his face held in his metal hand as he nodded off and woke up just as quickly. His suit looked stiff and uncomfortable as he twisted his wrists, dragging the sleeves up to his elbows. He’d discarded the jacket somewhere, probably lost to the world now. And then he spotted you, your dress awkwardly draped over your body in your haphazard attempt to re-dress, your hair completely out of place, and your hands filled with paper bags of medication.

He shot out of the chair, holding everything in your hands in one of his, and assessed you himself. His gaze roved the mess you’d become. He should have made a joke about it, maybe teased you for almost dying, but instead, he ran a hand over your head and dragged you against his chest. 

“Scared the shit out of me,” he murmured into your hair. He pressed another kiss there, reminding you that the first one hadn’t been your imagination. 

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said, clutching his button-up in your hands. 

“‘Course I did.” He leaned you back, hand still woven at the base of your hair, not caring that he was in the middle of the ER waiting room. “You okay?” 

It only took you a moment to make a decision. 

You pressed up, kissing him even though you were in the ER waiting room. Even though you both looked like a mess and you’d almost died and you had no idea if you still had a job. You kissed him and it startled him, the paper bag of medications crunching in his hand, but he kissed you back without hesitation. 

It wasn’t a passionate kiss—not like the breathless, wanting kisses you would share late, share tomorrow—but it was confirming something. Bucky held you and had his lips firmly against yours, his brows furrowed in a way you couldn’t see, and he confirmed everything you’d suspected. 

You figured you wouldn’t need to work if your boyfriend were a Congressman. 

But, as you would soon find out, Senator Brown didn’t have very much time left as a Senator, anyway. 

[saphronethaleph]

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

[thepencilnerd]

sticky-notes and leftovers

thank you to everyone who voted in my last poll! ask and ye shall receive 🫶

summary: a glimpse into your daily notions with robby after moving in, a.k.a., literally just fluff to escape the reality that s1 finale is tomorrow

the first note appeared three days after you officially moved in.

It was stuck to the cabinet above the coffee maker, slightly crooked. Ballpoint blue. Classic. Robby’s handwriting—surprisingly neat for a doctor, dad-esque, deeply serious in a way that made you laugh.

Coffee’s ready. Don’t forget to eat something.

Below that, in smaller script:

p.s. you’re not as subtle about skipping meals as you think.

You’d rolled your eyes. Smiled. Made a mental note to write back. The next morning, you left one stuck to the fridge:

Thank you for the coffee. I'm still mad you beat me to it. Again.

And just like that, it began.

It wasn’t intentional, at first. The notes were mostly functional—reminders about groceries, schedules, patients one of you needed to follow up on. But they bled into softer territory quickly. Encouragement. Sarcasm. A shared language built in 3x3 squares of neon.

Good luck today. You're a miracle in scrubs. (check the leftover lasagna before you thank me. It’s kind of a war zone in there) I love when you sing along to the radio in the shower. I wasn’t singing. The shower was. Sure

By month two, there was an entire corner of the fridge reserved for them, layered like scales, curling at the edges.

Some mornings, he’d stumble out of bed to find his thermos with a note taped to the lid:

Be nicer to Whitaker. He’s trying.

Other nights, Robby would get home late and find one on his pillow:

Welcome home. You smell like hospital. I’m still glad you’re here. I love you.

He’d stand there for a moment, reading the words, the weight of the day falling off his shoulders. You’d be asleep by then, curled up on your side, hair slightly mussed from the pillow, the soft rise and fall of your breath the only sound in the room.

He’d lean down, brushing a kiss to your temple, careful not to wake you—but still, you’d smile, faint and sleepy, like your body knew he was near even before your mind did.

Sometimes, he’d whisper something only the walls could hear—missed you today or you’re everything—then set his phone to silent, take a shower, and crawl in beside you, the note tucked into his journal.

The ritual became a comfort. A constant. Something grounding when the days were long and the shifts were brutal. When you barely saw each other except in passing, there were always the notes.

Until the day you had the worst shift of the year.

It had been back-to-back traumas. A code blue that didn’t end well. A young patient who reminded you too much of someone you used to know. You didn’t cry, not in the moment. Not until you got home, peeled off your coat, and saw the Post-It on the inside of the fridge:

Soup’s in the fridge. Eat first. Then fall apart if you need to. I’ll be home before midnight – M.

You’d pressed your thumb over his name like it could hold you together. Ate the soup. Didn’t fall apart.

Not until you saw the follow-up note stuck to your pillow:

You don’t have to be strong for me. Just be.

You left your reply in the bathroom mirror, scribbled while brushing your teeth:

I love you. (also, we’re out of toothpaste)

He never brought it up. Just replaced the toothpaste. Kissed your forehead like it was all part of the same conversation.

One morning, months later, Langdon accidentally opened your lunch container in the fridge and found a note stuck inside:

Remember to eat. (yes, I know you will forget) This is me pretending to be surprised ~OoO~

Langdon had stared at it. Then took a picture. Then texted Dana, who texted McKay, who dragged Collins into it.

By the time your shift ended, the entire department was in on it.

You returned from rounds to find a Post-It stuck to your locker:

If he doesn’t marry you, I will. - Dana

Robby’s handwriting appeared below in green ink:

We’re taking applications for flower girls - Robby

Collins passed you in the hallway and grinned. “Power couple energy.”

McKay gave you a thumbs-up and said nothing. Langdon winked. Mel smiled shyly. 

You shook your head, embarrassed but smiling. Your heart full.

You never asked how they knew.

You didn’t need to.

It was a Wednesday night when Robby found you standing in front of the fridge, rereading the corner where you kept them. The notes were a riot of color—blue, yellow, green, pink—some faded, some brand new.

He stepped behind you, sliding his arms around your waist. Rested his chin on your shoulder.

"You keeping all of them?"

You nodded. "Even the one where you said the leftover stir fry was cursed."

"It was cursed."

You leaned back into him. "I like them. All of them."

"Even the stick figure one where I drew you doing a laparotomy with laser eyes?"

You laughed. "Especially that one."

He was quiet a moment longer. Then whispered, "I’ll keep writing them. For as long as you’ll let me."

You turned in his arms and kissed him, soft and slow.

"That better be a promise, Robinavitch."

"Sticky note vow," he whispered.

And when you pulled back, he was already reaching for the notepad.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

 Chapter 13: Omega Eyes

Yunho had abandoned his gaming session entirely, drawn downstairs by the lingering memory of your purr and chirp, and the irresistible pull of whatever was happening to your omega. Now he sat at the kitchen table, methodically eating the cookies you'd brought him while watching you move around the kitchen with an expression of pure fascination.

You were beautiful like this—completely in your element, humming softly as you flitted from stove to counter to sink with an efficiency that spoke of deep omega satisfaction. Every movement was purposeful yet graceful, your entire being radiating contentment as you prepared what appeared to be enough food to feed an army.

Yunho had been sitting there for nearly an hour, mesmerized by the transformation he was witnessing. This wasn't the professional assistant who carefully managed their schedules and maintained polite boundaries. This was your omega in full domestic mode, nesting and providing with an instinctual drive that was both beautiful and deeply moving to watch.

The sound of the front door opening barely registered until he heard Hongjoong's voice in the hallway, followed by Seonghwa's lower tones. The two had been at the studio working on final touches for their next promotional appearance, but they were home earlier than expected.

"Yunho?" Hongjoong's voice carried a note of confusion as he entered the kitchen and found the younger alpha sitting motionless at the table. "What are you doing?"

"Where’s Y/n? You were supposed to—" Seonghwa began, then stopped abruptly as he followed Hongjoong into the room.

Yunho simply pointed toward where you were standing at the stove, stirring something that smelled absolutely incredible. "Look," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder.

Both alphas turned to follow his gaze, taking in the sight of you moving around the kitchen with that same graceful efficiency Yunho had been watching. At first glance, it might have seemed like simple dinner preparation, but there was something different about your energy, something that made both experienced alphas take notice.

"Her eyes..." Seonghwa breathed, his own gaze sharpening as he focused on your face.

Yunho nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off you. "She's been like this for an hour. Maybe longer."

Hongjoong frowned, studying your movements with growing confusion. "What do you mean, her eyes? What's—"

His question was cut off as you turned to check something in the oven, giving him a clear view of your face for the first time. Hongjoong's words died in his throat as he caught sight of what the others had already noticed.

Your eyes held a soft, dim purple hue that seemed to glow from within—subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew what to look for. Omega eyes. The equivalent of an alpha's golden glow, appearing when an omega's instincts took over and they surrendered to their natural drives.

"Oh," Hongjoong said quietly, the single word carrying a wealth of understanding and something that might have been awe.

All three alphas stood transfixed, watching as you moved through your domestic tasks with that telltale purple shimmer in your gaze. It was beautiful and rare—many omegas never felt safe enough to let their instincts take over so completely, especially not around unfamiliar alphas. The fact that you were doing so here, in their space, was both a gift and a sign of incredible trust.

The moment was broken when you finally noticed their presence. Your face lit up with a genuine smile that made all three alphas' breath catch simultaneously.

"You're home!" you said, your voice carrying a warmth and enthusiasm that seemed to fill the entire kitchen. Without hesitation, you moved toward them, picking up another plate of cookies from the counter as you approached.

"I made cookies," you announced proudly, holding out the plate. The purple in your eyes shimmered brighter as you offered them the fruits of your domestic labor.

Hongjoong accepted a cookie with slightly shaking hands, his alpha responding powerfully to the sight of an omega presenting food she'd made specifically for her pack. "They smell incredible," he managed, his voice rougher than usual.

Seonghwa took one as well, his own hands not entirely steady as he processed what he was witnessing. "Thank you, little one. This is... you've been busy today."

You beamed at their acceptance, that purple glow intensifying with pleasure at their praise. "There's dinner too," you said eagerly, gesturing toward the stove where multiple pots were simmering. "And I did the laundry, and cleaned the living room, and—"

"You've been taking care of us," Yunho interrupted softly, finally finding his voice again. The way he said it—with such reverence and gratitude—made your omega practically purr with satisfaction.

"Of course," you replied, as if there could be no other possible response. The simplicity of your answer, the matter-of-fact way you accepted the role of caretaker, sent a collective shiver of alpha satisfaction through all three men.

Hongjoong bit into his cookie and had to suppress a groan of pleasure at the taste. "These are perfect," he said, and the way your eyes brightened at the compliment was almost blinding. 

You let out a purr at the praise, causing a groan from Yunho and blush from Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa was studying you with that intense focus he brought to understanding the people he cared about. "How long have your eyes been like this?" he asked gently.

You blinked, confusion flickering across your features. "Like what?"

"Purple," Yunho supplied helpfully. "They're glowing purple."

Your hand flew to your face instinctively, as if you could somehow feel the change in your eyes. "They are?"

"It's beautiful," Hongjoong assured you quickly, recognizing the note of uncertainty in your voice. "It means your omega is content. Safe. Happy."

The explanation seemed to reassure you, your smile returning full force. "I do feel happy," you admitted. "Today has been... good. Really good."

"Even after yesterday?" Seonghwa asked carefully, his protective instincts clearly still on high alert.

Your expression softened as you looked at him. "Especially after yesterday. Because now I don't have to hide anymore. I can just... be."

The honesty in your words hit all three alphas like a physical force. To know that you felt safe enough, comfortable enough, to let your omega instincts take control completely—it was a level of trust that none of them took lightly.

"And this is you just being?" Hongjoong asked, gesturing toward the evidence of your afternoon's domestic spree.

You nodded enthusiastically. "I wanted to take care of you. All of you. Because you've been taking care of me, and it felt... right. Natural."

Yunho made a soft sound that might have been a whine, his alpha clearly overwhelmed by your sweetness. "You don't have to take care of us, Tulip. That's not your job."

"I’m your assistant so technically it is my job. But now it doesn’t feel like a job," you corrected him gently, your purple-tinged eyes warm with affection. "It's what I want to do. What feels good to do."

The distinction was important, and all three alphas recognized it. This wasn't about obligation or traditional omega roles—this was about genuine care, freely given, born from your own desires rather than external expectations.

"Well," Seonghwa said, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "we're incredibly grateful. All of this—" he gestured around the immaculate kitchen, toward the delicious smells emanating from the stove, "—it's amazing."

You let out a purr of satisfaction again, this time, the sound making all three alphas go slightly rigid with the force of their response. The combination of your glowing purple eyes, your obvious contentment, and that perfect omega sound created a moment of such pure rightness that none of them wanted it to end.

"Should I call the others for dinner?" you asked, already moving toward the hallway as if the thought of your alphas not being properly fed was unacceptable.

"In a few minutes," Hongjoong said quickly, catching your hand gently as you passed. "Let us just... appreciate this for a moment."

You tilted your head curiously, but allowed him to guide you back toward them. Standing there surrounded by three of your alphas, your eyes glowing with omega contentment, offering cookies you'd made with your own hands—it was a picture of domestic bliss that none of them had realized they'd been craving.

And judging by the way your omega was practically radiating satisfaction, it was exactly what you'd been craving too.

---

As Hongjoong and Seonghwa went upstairs to change out of their studio clothes, you returned to your cooking with renewed energy, chattering happily with Yunho who had moved closer to the kitchen island to keep you company. The purple glow had faded from your eyes, returning them to their normal color, but the contentment radiating from your omega remained strong.

"The sauce smells incredible," Yunho commented, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the pot you were stirring. His proximity sent a pleasant warmth through you, and when his hand came to rest lightly on your lower back, you found yourself leaning slightly into the touch.

"It's my mom's recipe," you replied, unconsciously tilting your head to give him better access as his thumb traced small, soothing circles against your spine. "She taught me that the secret is adding the gochujang slowly, letting each bit dissolve completely before adding more."

"Smart woman," Yunho murmured, his hand trailing up to squeeze your shoulder gently. "You'll have to teach me sometime."

The casual touches continued as you worked—his fingers brushing yours when he handed you ingredients, his palm settling on your hip when he moved around you to reach something, a soft kiss pressed to your temple when you successfully flipped the pajeon without breaking it.

"Perfect," he praised softly, his lips lingering near your ear. The combination of his warm breath and gentle approval made your omega purr with satisfaction.

You were so absorbed in cooking and Yunho's attentions that you barely noticed the sound of the front door opening again. It wasn't until you heard Wooyoung's dramatic gasp that you looked up to find four more members crowding into the kitchen doorway.

"What is that incredible smell?" Wooyoung demanded, his eyes wide as he took in the spread of dishes covering every available surface. "Tulip, did you cook all of this?"

San was already moving toward the stove, his expression one of pure amazement. "This looks like a feast. How long have you been cooking?"

"Most of the afternoon," you admitted, ducking your head shyly as their praise washed over you. Your omega practically glowed with pride at their obvious appreciation.

Mingi appeared at your other side, his tall frame creating a warm shield as he peered over your shoulder at the kimchi jjigae bubbling away. "You made kimchi jjigae from scratch?" His voice held a note of awe that made your chest flutter with happiness.

"And pajeon," Jongho added, pointing to the golden pancakes keeping warm in the oven. "And what's that?"

"Bulgogi," you replied, gesturing to the beautifully caramelized beef. "And banchan—pickled radish, seasoned spinach, bean sprouts..."

"You made banchan too?" Yeosang's quiet voice held a wonder that was somehow more affecting than the others' more vocal appreciation. "When did you have time for all this?"

"I just... wanted to," you said simply, the honest admission making several of the alphas make soft sounds of appreciation. "It felt good to cook for you all."

Wooyoung moved to stand behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed his face into your neck—not quite scenting, since your blocker was still in place, but seeking that closeness anyway. "You're amazing," he murmured against your skin. "Absolutely amazing."

"The luckiest pack in Seoul," San agreed fervently, earning nods from the others.

Yunho's hand found the small of your back again, his touch possessive and gentle as he guided you toward the dining table. "Come on, you've been working all day. Let us help serve everything."

"Oh no, I can—" you started to protest, but found yourself surrounded by eight determined alphas who had apparently decided that your cooking duties were officially over.

"Absolutely not," Seonghwa said firmly, appearing in fresh clothes with damp hair that suggested a quick shower. "You've done more than enough. We're taking care of the rest."

Watching them work together to transfer your carefully prepared dishes to the table filled you with a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the kitchen. Your omega hummed with contentment at the sight of your alphas enjoying the fruits of your labor, their obvious pleasure and gratitude more rewarding than any praise you'd ever received.

And when Yunho pulled out your chair for you with a soft kiss to your temple and a whispered "thank you for taking care of us," you realized that this—being surrounded by alphas who appreciated your care while cherishing you in return—was exactly where you belonged.

---

You finished eating before the rest of them, your omega satisfied by watching your alphas enjoy the meal you'd prepared. Unable to sit still while they continued eating, you quietly began clearing some of the empty serving dishes and storing leftovers, moving around the table with practiced efficiency.

Jongho was the next to finish, setting down his chopsticks with a satisfied sigh. He'd barely started to stand, his plate in hand, when you appeared in front of him as if from nowhere, your hand extended expectantly.

"I can take this to the kitchen," he protested gently, but you simply wiggled your fingers at him, waiting.

Surprised by your insistence but unable to resist your determined expression, Jongho reluctantly placed his plate in your waiting hands. The moment he did, you reached up with your free hand and gently tapped his nose with your finger—a soft, affectionate boop that was followed by the most delighted chirp any of them had ever heard.

Jongho stood frozen as you practically skipped away to the kitchen, his hand unconsciously rising to touch his nose where you'd booped him.

"That..." he said slowly, his voice filled with wonder, "was the cutest thing I have ever seen."

Wooyoung was practically vibrating in his seat, his earlier satisfied calm replaced by excited, dramatic energy. "How—how do I get her to do that? What did you do? How can I make that happen again?" His eyes tracked your movements like a predator watching prey, though his expression was purely adoring.

Most of the others sat frozen in various states of shock, processing what they'd just witnessed. The casual affection, the omega sounds, the pure contentment radiating from your every movement—it was almost too much adorable stimulation for their alpha brains to handle.

Yunho, however, was smiling broadly, looking remarkably pleased with himself. "She did that earlier when I thanked her for the cookies," he said smugly. "Made the most beautiful purr and chirp I've ever heard."

"You didn't tell us about the nose boop!" San accused, his own eyes following your figure as you bustled around the kitchen.

"She didn't do the nose boop for me," Yunho admitted, though he didn't look particularly upset about it. "That was just for Jongho."

"Why just me?" Jongho asked, still touching his nose with an expression of bewildered delight.

"Because you're the baby," Wooyoung declared dramatically. "She's got omega instincts to take care of the youngest pack member!"

But Mingi wasn't participating in the playful analysis. His eyes tracked your every movement with an intensity that was different from the others—more focused, more predatory. His hands gripped his chopsticks so tightly his knuckles were white, and his eyes kept flashing between their normal brown and that telltale alpha gold.

Yeosang, ever observant, noticed first. "Mingi," he said quietly, his voice carefully controlled in the way that suggested he was trying to stay calm. "When is your rut due?"

The question landed like a bomb in the middle of the dining room. All conversation stopped as seven pairs of eyes fixed on Mingi, who had gone very still.

"Next week," Mingi said roughly, his voice strained. "Maybe... maybe a few days."

Hongjoong's expression immediately shifted to leader mode, his alpha instincts recognizing the potential complication. "How long have you been in pre-rut?"

"Since yesterday," Mingi admitted, his eyes flashing gold again as you bent to load dishes into the dishwasher. "Since the incident at the radio station. My alpha's been... restless."

The others exchanged worried glances. A protective alpha in pre-rut, around an omega, whose omega sounds were triggering every instinct they possessed—it was a situation that required careful handling.

"Mingi," Seonghwa said gently, "maybe you should—"

He was cut off as you returned to the dining room, completely oblivious to the tension that had descended over the table. Your satisfied omega energy filled the space as you began collecting more dishes, humming softly under your breath.

Mingi's breathing became noticeably more labored as you moved around the table, his alpha responding to your presence with an intensity that was becoming harder to control. When you reached for his plate, your fingers accidentally brushing his, he jerked back as if burned.

"Sorry," you said softly, concerned by his reaction. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The gentle care in your voice, the worried expression on your face, the way you instinctively moved closer to check on him—it was everything Mingi's pre-rut alpha could want and everything he needed to avoid.

"It's fine," he managed through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists to keep from reaching for you. "I'm fine."

But judging by the way his eyes blazed gold and his entire body vibrated with barely controlled alpha energy, fine was the last thing Mingi was.

---

After dinner, you'd settled into the living room with Wooyoung and Yeosang, some of the members went to their rooms, Yunho had taken Mingi for a walk to ‘clear his head’ he had told you.

 The conversation between the three of you had been animated and thoughtful, your omega still riding the high of having successfully cared for your pack, when Wooyoung's attention had suddenly shifted to something else entirely.

"You know," he said, settling closer to you on the couch with that mischievous glint in his eyes that usually meant trouble, "I've been thinking about that adorable little chirp you made for Jongho earlier."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks immediately. "Wooyoung—"

"It was the cutest sound I've ever heard," he continued, completely ignoring your warning tone. "Like a little bird. A happy little Tulip bird."

Yeosang, who had been quietly reading in his chair, looked up with an expression of mild exasperation. "Wooyoung, leave her alone."

"I'm not bothering her!" Wooyoung protested, though his grin suggested otherwise. "I'm just... appreciating her omega sounds. They're beautiful."

"They're involuntary," you said firmly, trying to sink deeper into the couch cushions. "I can't just make them on command."

"But what if you could?" Wooyoung asked hopefully, leaning forward with obvious excitement. "What if I did something really nice for you, and you got so happy that you just couldn't help but chirp?"

"That's not how it works," Yeosang said dryly, not looking up from his book. "You can't manipulate omega responses like that."

"I'm not manipulating!" Wooyoung said indignantly. "I'm providing excellent alpha services that naturally result in omega satisfaction!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous logic. "Alpha services?"

"Yes!" he said triumphantly, apparently taking your laughter as encouragement. "Like... bringing you snacks! Do you want snacks? I could bring you the most amazing snacks, and then maybe you'd be so grateful and happy that you'd chirp for me too."

"You're not a vending machine," Yeosang observed, turning a page with deliberate calm. "And she's not a pet that performs tricks for treats."

"I never said she was a pet!" Wooyoung protested. "I said she was a beautiful omega who makes the most adorable sounds when she's happy, and I want to make her happy so I can hear them again. That's completely different!"

"It's really not," Yeosang replied flatly.

"What if I sang for you?" Wooyoung suggested, apparently undeterred by Yeosang's logic. "I have a very nice voice. Very soothing. Omega-approved."

"Your voice is not omega-approved," Yeosang said with a slight smirk. "I've heard you sing in the shower. It's traumatic."

"Excuse me!" Wooyoung gasped in mock offense. "My shower singing is a masterpiece of vocal artistry!"

"It's a masterpiece of something," Yeosang agreed mildly.

You were laughing openly now at their banter, which only seemed to encourage Wooyoung further.

"See? She's happy!" he pointed out eagerly. "Surely that's worth at least a little chirp? Just a tiny one?"

"Wooyoung," you said, still giggling, "I can't just chirp on demand. It's not something I control."

"But what triggers it?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "Is it specific types of happiness? Gratitude? Alpha approval? I need to understand the mechanics here."

"There are no mechanics," Yeosang said patiently. "It's instinctual. Emotional. You can't engineer it."

"But Jongho got one just for letting her take his plate," Wooyoung argued. "That's such a simple thing! I do nice things for her all the time!"

"Maybe it's because he didn't expect anything in return," you suggested gently. "He just accepted my help naturally."

Wooyoung considered this seriously. "So if I act completely natural and don't expect a chirp, I might get one?"

"That defeats the purpose of acting natural," Yeosang pointed out with exaggerated patience. "You can't consciously try to be unconscious about it."

"This is very complicated," Wooyoung said with a dramatic sigh. "Being an alpha is hard work. All these omega intricacies to navigate."

"You're overthinking it," you said with fond amusement. "Just be yourself, Wooyoung. The sounds happen when they happen."

"But I want them to happen now," he said with endearing honesty. "Your omega sounds make my alpha very happy. It's like... confirmation that you're content and safe and pleased with us."

The sincere admission beneath his playful demeanor made your heart flutter. Before you could respond, though, something shifted in the air around you. Wooyoung was leaning forward, gesticulating enthusiastically as he made a point about alpha-omega dynamics, when suddenly his scent hit you like a physical force.

Bergamot and ginger, bright and spicy and utterly intoxicating, flooded your senses with an intensity that made your head spin. Your blocker was failing again.

Your blocker was failing again.

"I'll be right back," you said abruptly, standing so quickly that both alphas looked at you with concern.

"Tulip? Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked, half-rising from his seat.

"Fine! Just need to—bathroom," you managed, already backing toward the door. "Be right back!"

You practically ran to the guesthouse, your heart hammering as Wooyoung's scent lingered in your system despite the distance. In your bathroom, you fumbled for the scent blocker behind your ear, peeling it off with shaking fingers. The adhesive came away easily—too easily.

Grabbing a fresh blocker from your supply, you paused before applying it, finally taking the time to read the fine print on the packaging that you'd never bothered with before. Your eyes scanned the text until you found what you were looking for:

*Warning: Effectiveness may be compromised when omega approaches heat cycle. Increased pheromone production may overwhelm blocking capabilities. Consult your physician if...*

Heat cycle. You weren't due for another month, but omega cycles could be irregular, especially under stress. Yesterday's traumatic revelation, the awakening of your omega instincts, being surrounded by eight alphas who were openly acknowledging you as pack—it could easily have triggered an early cycle.

The sound of your front door opening made you freeze.

"Y/n?" Hongjoong's voice called from the main room. "I knocked but there was no answer. You ran off so quickly, I wanted to make sure—"

You emerged from the bathroom, fresh blocker in hand, so wrapped up in your internal panic you hadn’t realized you hadn’t applied it. "I'm okay," you started to say, looking up to meet his concerned gaze. "I just needed to—"

But Hongjoong had gone completely still in your doorway, his entire body rigid with tension. His eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch, and as you watched, they began to glow that familiar molten gold.

It was becoming a common occurrence recently, but something about this felt different. More intense. More—

The wave of his scent hit you like a tsunami.

Sandalwood and ocean breeze, but stronger than you'd ever experienced it, pure and unfiltered and so perfectly right that your knees nearly buckled. Without your blocker in place, without any barrier between you and his alpha pheromones, the full force of his scent crashed over you and triggered something primal and immediate in your omega.

Your eyes blazed bright purple in response, matching the gold of his gaze as your body went completely rigid. Dimly, you registered the unused blocker falling from your nerveless fingers to clatter on the floor, but you couldn't move to retrieve it. Couldn't move at all.

Because Hongjoong's scent was wrapping around you like a living thing, calling to something deep in your omega that recognized him on a level beyond conscious thought. And from the way his pupils had blown wide, from the way his breathing had gone ragged, you knew he was experiencing the same overwhelming recognition.

He was smelling your scent for the first time too. Jasmine and vanilla, sweet and warm and utterly omega, filling the small space of the guesthouse until it was all either of you could breathe.

The moment stretched between you, loaded with a recognition that went beyond attraction, beyond the connection you'd all been feeling. This was something deeper, something cellular and undeniable.

"Mate," you whispered, the word falling from your lips without conscious thought.

Next>>

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[tobeholyistobeempty]

Can you write something about Price noticing how you haven’t been treated right? Like maybe you had a few ex boyfriends who just broke you and made you feel like you weren’t ever enough. 🥺 (may or may not be a self insert.) Love your writing btw!!

first of all anon i’m so sorry you went through that baby. you’re so loved and worth more than any man could offer🤍

———-

john price can’t believe the way some men have treated you.

you tell him like it’s nothing. one night you’re just rambling on in casual conversation, vocalizing shrugged off scars you’ve had for so long you’d begun to forget they’re even there. in some ways he knows he can relate to that. but you’ve had three ex’s. only three — young, all of them. cocky, lazy with their love and even lazier with their kindness. type of boys who think women are built just to serve them, something to wear out rather than protect and hold onto.

and it’s the small things that seem to bother you most, which perplexes john even further. it’s like you’ve almost dismissed the nights they didn’t come home, the nights they left you on read and wondering. he doesn’t quite get how the things that make your eyes glassy are the goddamn easiest ones.

things like not bringing you soup when you were sick. not checking the locks when you were anxious. not saying thank you after you worked all day just to come home and cook for them all night.

never a compliment, never a praise. spineless.

and price just listens. he’s always listening. taking this all in with understanding behind his eyes, the kind that settles in men who’ve seen too much of the world. yet for all he’s witnessed, this shakes him. in a different way.

the easy cruelty of men too soft to goto war, but hard enough to grind a woman down just to make themselves feel bigger.

you’re younger then him by a good ten years. he notices it sometimes in your slang, the way you dress, how fast your fingers move over the keyboard on your phone. but it doesn’t translate in your eyes. your eyes carry the weight of all you’ve survived.

it’s astounding that someone your age, so young and free and beautiful, has been put through so much. you laugh easy but flinch faster. you don’t ask for help because you don’t expect any — that’s what gets him the most.

he’s not old-fashioned, not entirely. he’s no prince. no knight in shining armour. but he’s lived through gun fire and war zones and body bags and too many fucking funerals — and what war has taught him, more than any training camp or mission accomplished, is this:

you hold onto what you love. you fight for it.

so he starts small. notices when you’re tired before you say it. hands you tea without asking, because he’s noted you like atleast three a day. chamomile before bed. he listens when you speak. checks the locks at night. kisses your shoulder in the morning as the two of you make breakfast. this is an equal partnership. price won’t let you do anything alone if he can help it.

he builds you a garden. takes care of your car. he calls you love and means it. never stops saying thank you. he tells you you’re brilliant, fucking hell — you’re beautiful, and makes sure you stop saying sorry for things that were never your fault in the first place.

and he watches, with time, as you start to believe him. as that truth begins to take root. reblossoms in spring to be nurtured through winter.

he’ll never let a day pass without you knowing how much you’re worth. and not to the boys who took you for granted, but to a man who’d lay down his life to see you smile.

because you’re everything to him. you’re the catharsis he’s been fighting his whole life for. he’ll make sure you feel it.

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ kiss me under the mistletoe! ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: the holidays are long over, but that doesn't stop you from hanging up a mistletoe as an excuse to kiss your boyfriend.

notes: listen.... listen okay.... i can't wait until december to write this i have to get it out now.... lengths of each section may vary but i tried to keep it to an 8 paragraph maximum.

warnings: canon is vague so you decide, inaccurate timing of mistletoe i guess, very short and sweet and self-indulgent, just a lot of fluff and a lot of kissing, reader wears lipstick in raf's part bc i am desperate to cover that man in lipstick stains, zayne is a menace, sylus is also a menace, pet names used: cutie (r), sweetie (s).

XAVIER — is very confused when he wakes up from a nap to see mistletoe dangling in his face. Last he checked, it was the middle of January so he's fairly certain he didn't sleep the entire new year away. Though, it's not something that's entirely out of the question.

Behind the mistletoe he saw your smiling face, and you pull the plant away from him as he sits up, planting yourself right next to him and looking at him expectantly.

Xavier knew what the mistletoe meant, he just didn't quite understand why you were using it now, weeks after Christmas.

You don't seem at all concerned by the timing of this, just smiling at his confusion and raising the mistletoe up a bit as you speak, "This is the part where you kiss me, y'know,"

And while he might have some questions, he's never been one to deny you what you want.

A small huff of amusement, and then he's leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. You eagerly kissed back, barely able to contain the giddy smile on your face when the kiss breaks.

The smile on your face, coupled with the look of satisfaction in your gaze has him pulling you onto his lap, pressing a few more quick kisses to your lips before he's burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a small sigh.

His heart felt so warm, and even though he just woke up from a nap, he wouldn't mind falling back asleep like this. Which is exactly what he plans on doing, by the way, so any plans you had after your silly little idea are immediately canceled.

ZAYNE — would pretend not to notice it at first. He's not being mean, he just thinks the little frustrated pout you get when he acts like the mistletoe has always been there is cute, so he can't help himself. He's also curious to see just how far you'd go to get a kiss from him without having to ask.

It even becomes a game, of sorts, with Zayne sometimes acting as though he'd finally kiss you when standing under the mistletoe only to instead pat your head or press a kiss to your cheek.

You took his teasing as a challenge, and soon enough you somehow hung up mistletoe in all of the doorways in both your home and his. You even went as far as to hang one in the doorway of his office at the hospital.

A few of his coworkers had questioned him about it, and he couldn't stop the look of fondness that bleeds through his usual calm and collected demeanor, simply telling them that it wasn't any of their concern.

It all coalesces one night, maybe two or three weeks into trying to get a kiss under the mistletoe with him. He showed up at your apartment with dinner only to find you sitting at the kitchen counter, all the mistletoe you had put up set in a pile. Your arms were crossed, and you were glaring down at the plants as if they'd insulted you in some way.

"I give up," You say, a bit dejected. And Zayne feels a bit bad, admittedly, as he sets your dinner on the counter next to all the mistletoe. He doesn't really understand why you're trying to get an excuse to kiss him when you can just do it, but he'll humor you.

With a small sigh, he grabs one of the mistletoes and dangles it above your head. It's enough to get you to perk up, and you brighten immediately when he presses a kiss to your lips. It was quick, and when he pulled away, he mutters a soft, "Satisfied?"

"Hardly," You exhaled, but he covered your mouth with his hand before you could kiss him again, his lips quirking up in a slight smile at the frustrated sound that comes from you. You weren't getting anymore kisses until you ate dinner, no matter how pretty you looked with your puppy-dog eyes.

RAFAYEL — probably wouldn't even realize you had put mistletoe in the entryway of his home. At the very least, when he does notice it, he'll be far more interested in figuring out what shades of pant he could make with the plant rather than anything else.

You can't say you're shocked when you hurry back to his place after running a quick errand to find him crushing the mistletoe. You curse yourself for not buying a backup in case this scenario happened, but there wasn't much you could do.

That doesn't mean you were any less determined, however. The mistletoe may not longer be a plant, but it was in the paint he was making, and therefore the rules still applied, so.

Deciding to be patient, you would wait until Rafayel actually used the paint to make your move. The painting hung on his wall proudly when it was finished, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched you admire it for a few moments, "So? Would you say this is my new masterpiece, cutie?"

And you feign deep thought for a moment before you pull him down into a kiss. It wasn't heated, but it did last for a good second before you pulled away. Bewilderment in his eyes and a pretty blush dusting his ears and cheeks, you smile and simply nod to the painting on the wall, "Mistletoe."

It takes him a few moments to process your word, and his brows furrow slightly, "It's not even December," He says, though he certainly wasn't complaining when you pull him in for another kiss.

You kiss him until his face is covered in lipstick stains, and your lipstick was smeared. His breaths came out in small pants, a dazed look in his eyes when you finally pull away.

"...You're trying to kill me," He quietly accuses after catching his breath, and you can only laugh.

SYLUS — is rather amused when he steps into your apartment to see a thing of mistletoe dangling in the entranceway. He knew you were planning something from the moment you told him to stop by your place.

His amusement only grows when he sees you standing under the mistletoe, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible as he takes his jacket and shoes off. He doesn't need to ask questions, he's not a fool.

The mistletoe was there for a reason, one so glaringly obvious he couldn't help but feel a bit smug knowing that you were trying to find sneaky ways to kiss him. He was flattered, truly, but you didn't need to go to such lengths.

His hands were on your waist in an instant, and you don't miss the gleam in his eyes as he looks at you. Oh, he was never going to let you forget about this moment, and you were half tempted to pull away before he could get the chance to actually kiss you.

His lips capture yours before you can actually distance yourself from him, and it was much more gentle than you were probably expecting it to be. He kissed you like a man dying of thirst, and yet he controlled himself enough to not make you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to use a plant to kiss me, sweetie," He murmurs against your skin after breaking the kiss, instead taking to pressing light kisses against your jaw and neck.

The attention had your mind faltering for just a moment, and you grumble out a quiet 'whatever' before lightly pushing him away from you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand just to get him to stop kissing you. Not that it worked, because he just presses one against your palm, his gaze never leaving yours.

You're the one who wanted a kiss, even going as far as to bringing out mistletoe in the middle of January to achieve your goal. He's just simply giving you what you were asking for.

[vegan-peppermint]

Your Boyfriend's Bed

Pairing: Hoodie x Masky'sGF!Reader Smut MDNI

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cheating, creampie, rough sx, P in V

Summary: Your boyfriend is a B, but his best friend's there to take your side.

Part 2 here

Author's Note: After a three-year hiatus, I finally found the inspiration to write again—thanks to this incredible fanfiction. It sparked something in me. I can’t recommend it enough, so please show the creator some love. Their work is the reason I’m writing again after all this time. This fic is inspired by their masterpiece, so I highly encourage you to check it out first!

________________________________

More often than not, you were a collateral victim in your boyfriend and his friend’s fights. Tim and Brian were too close for your liking, they had a great co-dependency going on way before you came in the picture. If Brain was in a bad mood, so was Tim. If you got in a fight with Tim, Brian was giving you the silent treatment as well as taking sides without hesitation.

It was more than you bargained for, not realising getting Tim as a boyfriend meant taking responsibility for his grown-ass best friend as well. But you managed. With each month that passed in your relationship it was getting easier for you, to the point it was almost natural to consider them both in every action you took. 

Weirdly enough, you so much preferred for them to be mad at you instead of at each other. Whenever their balance wavered they started acting batshit crazy. Tim confessed some details about their ‘alternative’ life after- what, a year in you relationship? 

You didn’t fully grasp what he meant by their “alter egos” or their nighttime escapades, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to. You had your suspicions, of course. You weren’t blind. But as long as they didn’t outright spell it out for you, you could continue living in blissful ignorance. It was easier that way, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it.

But today—today was different. Today, things had escalated to an entirely new level.

Tim was screaming at Brian, who was cloaked in that damned creepy hood that made him look so unsettling. Tim's anger seemed to grow by the second, and when “Hoodie” (as you suppose you should call him now) refused to react, it only fueled Tim’s rage.

You tried to calm him down, talk to him or something- anything.

A strained, guttural laugh escaped Tim, trembling with anger. He started explining to you how you do not even begin to understand what has happened, how you should just shut up and not get involved- his voice full with disdain, every sentence designed to belittle and assert his supposed superiority. 

Now you are not the one to get angry easily, but this time- this time something in you snapped. You were done being talked down to, done being made feel small or pathetic for just wanting some peace.

“No wonder he would not bother to have your back when you act like such a prick.”

“Oh, just shut up you bit-,” his words faltered as he caught himself mid-sentence, swallowing the insult faster than a politician trying to cover his tracks.

You cannot recreate what was spoken after that word for word, just that all hell broke loose. It was no longer a fight between Tim and Brian- no, it wasn’t just them anymore. It was you and Hoodie against Tim. You were screaming and throwing your every angry complaint you had been holding in for far too long. And Hoodie- Hoodie of all people- was backing your every word, every statement. However, Hoodie’s remark is what really sealed and shipped Tim’s whole spirit.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so frustrated with her boyfriend in my life, Masky. Can only imagine you’re lacking in some aspects.”

The words hit harder than anything you had said. They were cold, calculated, and aimed straight at the core of Tim’s pride. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a moment, Tim stood there, trembling with the weight of the accusation. His face twisted in disbelief, but the damage had already been done.

What followed between the two of them was pure madness. Shouting, shoving, items flying off shelves—everything seemed to spin out of control. Pushing, pulling, voices rising higher and higher, until the tension reached a breaking point. Tim’s eyes flickered with something darker, something unstable, before he turned to grab his mask and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls.

Well, this has happened this morning. You realise you could’ve done things differently, not taking sides or waiting for their fight to end before starting your own. That was your mistake. But leaving you hurt and angry with only Hoodie to comfort you was his.

________________________________

You were on all fours on your boyfriends bed, face buried in his pillows. Hoodie’s gloved hand pushed down on your back arching it more- your ass rising higher. 

Your clothes were littering the floor from the doorway to the edge of the bed, the cold air tickling your bare skin. Your eyes landed on the wardrobe’s mirror showing your helpless reflection with Hoodie’s tall frame behind you. He was completely dressed from his boots to the black mask that covered his face- he was glacial. 

His left hand- formerly on your back-  grabbed your hip harshly. He dragged the other painfully slow across your side- from ass, to waist and finally around your breast. You whimpered at the harsh feeling of his gloves palming your tits. 

“So sensitive…” he sighed. The nub was hardening against his touch making it easier for him to pinch or gently twist your nipple. 

You inhaled sharply trying to steady yourself but being met with Tim’s smell wasn’t helping. “H-Hodie...” you whined. 

His hands left your body and you heard his pants zipper opening. You tried to push yourself on your forearms, an instinct to turn around and see what you were dealing with, but before you could make a move a firm grip grabbed at the back of your neck. The sharp tug sent shivers down your spine as Hoodie yanked your head back. With a swift flick of his wrist, he let go of your nape only to have his fingers dart into your hair. His grip was certain and precise. “You’re way to eager to get on another man’s cock.” Your face was shoved once again back into the mattress. 

He was watching you excitedly as he brushed his tip across your folds- a groan escaping his lips when he felt how wet you already were. There was something primal about knowing you belonged to someone else yet he got to claim you as his right now. 

“Be quiet now,” he instructed sliding his cock inside you. You tried your best, you swore you did but he was so- big. Your eyes rolled upwards and your fingers gripped tightly at the sheets as you tried your best not to scream. His cock pressed deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you in ways you did not even imagine possible. “You moan like a whore,” he growled with a final push. You felt your face blushing in shame- he talked to you in ways you would've never allowed your boyfriend, but on his lips those words felt so natural; almost like praises.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, the sound gentle but insistent. You were already panting and crying just by the size of him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him being balls deep inside your aching cunt but your whines wouldn’t stop. He leaned over you, the rough material of his clothes scratching your soft skin. His hand reached to the side of your face, you thought he wanted to wipe away the tears that were sliding down your cheeks. He chuckled, his hand covering your mouth instead. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, sweetheart.” 

________________________________

“Fuck, fuck- fuck! Feels so- Agh!~” 

You were screaming so fucking loudly. Your head was bumping to the ruthless rhythm of Hoodie’s thrusts. His fingers left red marks all over your ass, your hips- he was tugging at your body merciless, squeezing and scratching every inch of skin he could find. 

With trembling hands you tried your best to hold onto the bed frame as Hoodie was rutting into you from behind. His balls were hitting your swollen clit so hard- again and again and- “Am so close- so close, so close!”  Jaw was hanging open, you were gasping for air. 

“Fucking whore,” Hoodie sighed grabbing your neck with one hand, the other searching for your open mouth. “Bet he never fucked you this good, eh?” He gave a sinister chuckle as he shoved his fingers down your throat. You followed his cruel pull falling back on his torso. He was squeezing at the sides of you neck reminding you how little and vulnerable you are right now, “You only breath right now- scream and cry- you only feel this good because I allow you to.”

You whine taking him even deeper, his cock slaming your walls faster. His fingers explored your mouth pressing down your tongue, his grip thightend. 

“I could snap your neck right now, you know?”

You cry out loud in desperation, surrenedring control to him completely. Your eyes shut in anticipation, every muscle in you tightens-

“Say who you really belong to, who fucks you like a bitch in heat,” he snarls. “Say my name.”

And you do. Over and over again you do as your gummy walls squeeze around his length unbearably thight, waves of pleasure wash all over you. Hoodie’s hands allow you to gasp for air just for a second as they move under your arms grabbing you by the shoulders. His sudden body weight pushed you on your belly, fucking you deeper into the matress. His thrusts grow sloppy and desparate with no regard towards you- he was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“I’ll pump you so full of cum, MY cum-” Muffled sounds rose from deep in his chest, you were able to hear his clenched teeth through the sharp breaths he took. “Breed you so good you’ll be ruined- Fuck-” he whimpered. “Ruined for Tim,” his thrusts are brutal and harsh and- so goddamn overwhelming. 

His cum shots in hot strings, his member twitching inside your ruined cunt. His hands pull you closer and hips push further trying to get as deep as possible- deeper than Tim at least. 

You felt bad for comparing but the way he feels on top of you, in you- he fucked you in ways your boyfriend never could. When you tried to shift he grabbed a fistful of your hair forcing your head back. With lazy motions he started fucking his cum deeper.

“I didn’t tell you you could fucking move yet.”

//

This is my first fic since, what- 2021? Wow. Crazy.

I'll keep on writing my usual content as well, but creepypastas and gore-y stuff has always been something I wanted to write but never felt confident enough before. Anyways, feel free to request or send me any message, I came back from my hiatus! Never thought I'd say that lol.

[kentocidal]

lucky winner

users: piercer!bakugou x afab!fem!reader x tattoo artist!kirishima

internal warnings: descriptions of needles/tattoos/piercings as they occur, long fic, wow there's plot in this!, consensual threeway, established krbk, oral (m and f!receiving), piv, spit, size kink, light dacryphilia, spitroasting, inaccurate positioning, ask to tag

internal notes: three way won the poll so i went ham. my fault og. final word count somehow came to 5.2k ish.

new notifications: @kaedescara

you stared blankly at the notification on your phone, wide-eyed and jaw agape. you blinked slowly, rubbed a hand down your face, and then clicked your phone off and back on again. the screen lit back up to your screensaver and the single notification that sat covering it. ‘@sincitytattoojp tagged you in their story! check it out!’

you looked up from your phone to your friend, who you now realized was calling your name and snapping her fingers. “uh, hello? earth to y/n? what’s going on? did your ex message you or something?”

“i think i won something.” you mumbled, turning your phone to show your friend. she furrowed her brows together and took your phone from your hand, studying the notification before cracking a grin. 

“is this that tattoo parlor in tokyo that you keep talking about hypothetically going to?” she laughed as she punched in your passcode and opened up instagram, pressing on the icon to the parlor’s instagram story.

you were quick to snatch your phone back to watch the story yourself, raising the volume on your phone to hear it. it was a video of someone’s hand reaching into a very full fishbowl of printed instagram handles, pulling out a tiny piece of paper and unfolding it to reveal your instagram username. the caption read in big red lettering, “congrats to @[y/n] for winning the human canvas raffle. reply to this post by midnight to schedule your slot.”

you swallowed thickly and looked up at your friend. “i won the fucking raffle. i won the nine hour session.”

your friend sucked in a breath before laughing and lifting her glass to you. “godspeed, soldier.”

you looked back down at your phone and clicked back to rewatch your name be pulled from the bowl. you had entered the contest on a whim – you hadn’t expected to win. you had reposted the parlor’s picture and tagged your three closest friends to enter a bid into becoming a human canvas for a day, i.e. getting tattooed and pierced until you tapped out. the parlor owners couldn’t seem to decide on whether to call it the human canvas contest or the no mercy challenge, not that it mattered. both fit the bill to describe what you had just won.

you swiped up on the story.

you: i dont know whether to be terrified or excited.

@sincitytattoojp: both, sweetheart. sign this and get it back to us [1 attachment]

you had gone through an extensive back and forth that night, printing and signing and scanning different waivers and papers to ensure that you would be able to handle an entire day of sitting in a chair getting poked and prodded with needles and getting art permanently printed on your skin forever. you were grateful that they took so much precaution in ensuring you were well aware of the situation you were putting yourself in, and getting ample consent confirmed ahead of time. you already felt comfortable as you stepped off the train in tokyo and started towards the shop.

sin city tattoo and body art. the small tattoo shop had garnered a massive following around the globe for the gorgeous work that consistently poured from the studio. the artists had never shown their faces on their page, but it was clearly just a two man show. sometimes one of them would film the other doing their newest piece on a client they handpicked from the waiting list, and it was clear that the two were a little more than close friends. 

you trusted their work. you were a new client, obviously, but after following their page for over a year, you knew you would be okay with going through with this. you were just… inexperienced. you had a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on your ankle and your ears double pierced in the lobes, but that was it.

you rounded the corner and saw the neon sign over the glass doors to the shop, the shutters pulled down. you took a deep breath and tried the door, mildly surprised that it opened up. a tiny bell chimed over your head as you stepped inside.

the shop was small, but it was clean. absolutely pristine. for a tattoo shop called sin city, you were expecting a bit more of a grunge theme, not exactly the creamy white walls littered with black picture frames of flash art available for purchase, a tall cabinet filled with various jewelry for fresh piercings, plants in the corners surrounding two chairs that were supposedly for a waiting area. there was a tall partition behind the front desk, and the shop stretched backward, most likely leading to a tattoo chair and then a piercing table, respectively. 

you stood awkwardly by the front door, gripping your bag in front of you. you had brought a few little snacks and some water in preparation for being there all day. you shuffled your feet as you heard footsteps coming up from the back of the shop, and suddenly you were reconsidering your outfit choice. you had tried to be helpful by going with a tight spaghetti strap tank top and a high riding skirt, knowing that you would probably need to shuffle clothes around during the course of the day.

your thoughts got clogged almost immediately when a brick wall of a man rounded the partition, scratching the back of his neck and staring down at you with big red eyes that looked curious, almost playful. he had to have been at least six-five, looming over you with broad shoulders and bulky arms that were covered in tattoos that went all the way down to his knuckles. his red hair was tied half-up half-down, the black roots at his forehead showing through.

you gaped at him like a fish out of water, face starting to feel warm as he glanced you up and down, and then smiled, revealing a wide set of sharp sharklike teeth. “aye, kats! i think she’s here!” he called over his shoulder before stepping behind the front desk. “you’re our pretty contest winner, right?”

“uh-”

“my name’s eijirou kirishima. i’m the main tattoo guy here.” he grinned at you, boyish and peppy, and it stifled your nerves somewhat as you returned the smile, but you were flustered beyond belief. you had seen the videos of him tattooing, you knew at least that his hands were big, but not the rest of him.

“ah, yeah, hi. i’m y/n. it’s nice to see your fsce for once.” you giggled nervously, and he laughed and nodded.

“yeah, we’re not all about showing who we are online. the page got too big, tokyo’s a big place, we don’t want the extra attention, yknow?” he smiled warmly at you as he bent down and shuffled through some paperwork under the desk, pulling it out and gesturing for you to come closer. “i know we already got a lot of your stuff online, but this is the last waiver. pretty much a final agreement that we get to do whatever we want to your body until you either tap out, or the clock hits six, whichever comes first.” 

you made a little squeaking noise at his phrasing, glancing at his face as he just continued to smile. he fumbled around for a pen and held it out to you, and you reached to take it, but he snatched it back and leaned across the desk. “just so you know, you can say stop at any time. we’re not forcing you to be here. if you say no to an idea, we won’t do it. stuff like that. okay?”

you blinked at him. he seemed so genuine, really making sure he was thorough in his explanations of the paperwork and of your position in this. it helped you take a deep breath and nod. “i know. i’m all good.”

“awesome. you seem like a real trooper.” he chuckled in a deep, rumbly voice, and finally held the pen back out to you. 

you took it, your soft fingers brushing over his rough skin and making you feel like your hand was alight in flames. you signed your name at the bottom of the form, dated it, and slid it back across the desk to kirishima. he just grinned at you and shoved the paper into the desk again.

“bakugou! come on, man! she’s all good!” kirishima leaned his head around the partition, and you jumped slightly when the familiar voice of kirishima’s partner sounded from the back of the shop.

“i fucking heard you the first time, i’m not fucking deaf!”

“well, just hurry up!” kirishima laughed and turned back to you. “sorry, he’s a real stickler for making sure his spot is all clean. i’m clean, but he’s a neat freak.”

“who’re you calling a neat freak, red?” a slightly shorter man stepped out from down the hallway, and again you felt your breath catch in your throat.

he was still tall, but far more intimidating in his black wife beater and jeans. he took off his mask that had been covering the lower half of his face, revealing a nose piercing and snake bites around plush lips. his fluffy blonde hair was standing up in all the right places, piercing red eyes looking your form up and down as he cracked his knuckles. his arms were littered patchwork-style, much different than kirishima’s full sleeves, and he clearly liked to hit the gym seven days a week.

you gulped and shifted your weight as bakugou’s eyes drifted over you. “name’s katsuki bakugou. you’ve already met red. didya sign the form?”

“uh, yes. all of the forms.”

���great.” his eyes locked on yours. clearly, this guy was all about professionalism and business, at least while he was on the clock. then he turned his head to kirishima. “so, where did you want to start her?”

you found yourself laid down on your chest, head turned to the side to stare at bakugou’s back as he organized something off to the side. music was playing, but you could hardly hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the weight of kirishima’s hand on your back.

you chewed on your lip as you felt the needle trace over the skin of your lower back, occasionally lifting to get more ink, only to return and start the ministrations over again. it wasn’t an easy spot to get ink done; tramp stamps were adorable and sexy, but the skin on that part of a person’s back is notoriously thin. despite this, however, you always found the pain to be… enjoyable. 

you felt kirishima’s free hand slide over to the middle of your back, splaying out, applying some pressure to get a better angle as he leaned over you. if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you would be able to feel his warm breaths fanning out against your sensitive skin. your eyes fluttered and you did your best not to move as your neurons fired over the sheer size of his hand against your back. splayed out like that, his fingertips were on one side and the heel of his hand almost felt like it was on the other. perhaps your perception was being warped on account of the buzzing needle poking your back, but you couldn’t be entirely sure.

kirishima added more pressure even as the needle lifted away from your skin, pushing you down into the bed, making you squeak softly. bakugou’s head turned briefly to you, glinting in the white overhead lighting almost devilishly, before turning away again.

“so,” kirishima’s low voice made you flinch slightly, having been entranced by the weight of him looming over your form, “i don’t really see any ink on you. is this your first time?” you heard him chuckle into his mask as he waited for you to relax again, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down, before pressing the needle down again. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, hun.”

you felt like some kind of high schooler talking about her virginity. “it’s- it’s fine. no, it’s not my first, but it’s my first big one. i’ve got a little one on my ankle.”

“your ankle?” he repeated, still pressing the needle to your skin and definitely coloring a shape in. “who did that for you? wasn’t us.”

“right, yeah.” you giggled slightly, really trying not to move as you wiggled the foot that held the little tattoo. “just an old friend who was an apprentice somewhere else.”

“ankle’s a rough place for a first tattoo,” grumbled bakugou, finally turning towards you and sitting down in a chair a little ways away, manspreading in your peripheral. “how’d you sit for that?”

“it hurt, but i liked it.” you mumbled back honestly, glancing back when you felt kirishima put the tattoo gun down and reach with a gloved hand towards your ankle, bending your leg at the knee to study the work.

“hm. it’s real cute on you, but i would’ve done it a little different.” his thumb brushed over the tattoo, over the thin skin of your ankle, sending a spike of heat through your body. “i could touch it up later.” he guided your leg back down and brushed his hand over the back of your thigh briefly before picking his tattoo gun back up and reapplying that heavy pressure to your back again.

“yeah, okay…” you murmured breathily, feeling small underneath kirishima’s weight and the power of bakugou’s gaze where he was staring at you, at kirishima, at how kirishima’s hands left indents in your skin as he worked.

your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, your head feeling like all the blood had drained from it and gone south. you shouldn’t be thinking like this, feeling like this, not while effectively getting stabbed thousands of times per minute.

bakugou hummed as he stood up again to get within your line of sight. “you said you liked the pain, huh? you one of those weird people that gets a high off of getting ink done?”

you felt your face burst with heat, unable to move as you opened your mouth and stammered. kirishima chuckled behind his mask.

“don’t tease, kats.”

“‘m not teasin’. i was just sayin’ that i agree with her.” bakugou smirked at you before stepping around the wall to go get a water from the fridge.

kirishima’s free hand slid from your middle back to just above your ass, his thumb rubbing into the fabric of your tight skirt as he worked.

“you’re sitting really well for this, doll. ‘m proud. probably one of my favorite things to do is back tattoos. especially these.”

you hummed softly in the back of your throat, probably mumbling a thank you that just made him laugh again.

you didn’t say anything when his free hand squeezed your ass as he leaned back to get more ink in the gun.

kirishima had spread the second skin across your pretty new tramp stamp with precision, making sure it wouldn’t wrinkle or peel away until your tattoo was healed. you were given a snack of chips and a bottle of water to recuperate while bakugou prepped his area, pulling on a mask and snapping black latex gloves over his hands. “so, how ya feelin’?”

“good,” you took a breath as you capped your water, sitting quietly on the tattoo bench and waiting to move to the piercing table. “ready to move on, i guess.”

“hope you don’t mind, but i took some photos when red was doing you.” he glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled and waved it off.

“i don’t mind at all. my friend didn’t believe me when i said i was actually gonna come.”

“that so?” bakugou cocked a brow, his mouth hidden behind the black mask. “anyway, what’re you thinking for this next bit? industrial? nose?”

“ah.” you shifted on the bench, glancing away from him as kirishima rounded the corner. “i was, uh. i was thinking i could get my… i could get my nipples pierced first? get the worst ones out of the way?”

kirishima blinked once and immediately shot a look to bakugou, who made eye contact. it was like telepathy; there was a silent exchange between them before bakugou nodded and waved for you to step over. “sure, whatever. it’s definitely not the worst pain, though.”

“really?” you stood on jelly legs and walked over to the piercing bench, sitting down in front of bakugou, who pulled a chair over to sit.

“mhm. worst i would say for a girl is the clitoral hood.”

you flushed and shook your head. “no thanks. i think i’ll stick to this for now.”

“okay.” bakugou sat back in his chair, staring at you. you stared back, tilting your head. bakugou furrowed his brows and clicked his tongue, making an ‘up’ motion with two fingers. only then did it click that you needed to take your shirt off.

you looked around as you started to tug your tank top up, looking over at kirishima, who was leaning against the wall with fascination. “ah, sorry! if you really want, i can leave.”

“no! no, it’s fine.” you shook your head, and finally got the courage to lift your tank top up and over your head. in preparation for this, you had simply forgone your bra in the morning.

you were left in just your skirt and panties, essentially. kirishima hummed low in his throat, earning him a glare from bakugou. you felt like you were on fire when bakugou reached a hand out to your shoulder. “lay back. slow.”

you shuddered under his grasp and laid back on the table, bringing your feet up and bending your knees to be a little more comfortable. your nipples pebbled and hardened from the cold air of the parlor.

bakugou studied your tits with an intense gaze, clearly focused on his job in a way that kirishima was not. where kirishima was flirty, groping and grabbing, bakugou was cold and practiced.

“so this is gonna go something like this. one of these is gonna hurt more than the other. when i tell you, you gotta breathe in, and then breathe out all at once. it’ll make the pain a little easier to handle.”

“okay.”

“i’ll be quick, but we gotta do one at a time.” he grabbed a skin safe marker and finally his hands reached for one of your tits, rubbing his thumb into the skin as he marked where the needle would enter and exit. you felt like you were shaking, being grabbed and examined in such a professional manner.

“you can’t have any fuckin’ saliva or jizz or whatever touch these till they’re fully healed, you got that?”

you squeaked, almost jumping in surprise at his words, before laughing and shaking your head. “no worries there.”

“you sure?” bakugou tilted his head, eyebrow raised, and kirishima laughed as he walked over towards the bench.

you didn’t get a chance to answer bakugou, because kirishima was by your head, offering his massive hand to you. “you can squeeze my hand so you don’t pass out.”

you looked up at him through your lashes, squirming on the bench as bakugou squeezed your tit. you didn’t answer, just reaching your hand up to hold onto kirishima’s. his hand was large, warm, and so rough. you wanted to feel his-

“alright sugar. take a deep breath in for me.”

you sucked in a breath through your teeth, and then suddenly a white hot pain shot through your body, something never experienced before. your vision whited out and you may or may not have cried out and dug your nails into kiri’s hand, gripping it tightly.

your head swam as you were encouraged to breathe, and then to breathe in again as the wide bar was slipped through the new piercing. you yelped and jerked on the table, making bakugou put his gloved hand flat between your tits to try and ground you. “relax, brat. stay fucking still. gotta get this stupid ball on.”

“aw, she’s cryin’.” kiri chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. your cheeks did feel wet as the pain subsided slowly. you whimpered as bakugou leaned away from you and reached to grab another needle package and the second bar.

“one more, drama queen. you can do it. just one more.”

“already?” you whined, shaking your head at him as he scooted his chair closer to get a better angle on your other nipple.

you did not get a chance to beg for mercy. “breathe in deep, good fuckin’ girl.”

you screamed this time. bakugou had been right, one hurt more than the other. your head felt so light all of a sudden, your vision blurring as you gripped kirishima’s hand like a vice and shook. your breath punched out of you when the bar was pushed through and the little ball at the end was screwed on.

you stared up at the ceiling and tried to get your bearings as kirishima let go of your hand to pet your hair and keep it away from your tears. “you did it, pretty girl. you got it. just breathe. did such a great job, yeah?”

you gathered your thoughts together as you listened to bakugou get up and take his gloves and his mask off, tossing them away, ever the professional. he walked back over to where you were laying and held up a mirror over you to show you your new jewelry. the sight made the pain worth it; your nipples, perky and red and hard, glittering with bars pushed through.

“what do ya think?” bakugou cocked his head at you, and you let out a deep breath.

“they look… really nice.”

“really sexy, more like.” kirishima chuckled over you as he openly ogled your chest.

you made a noise of surprise, which was immediately followed by your voice getting caught in your throat when bakugou’s free hand moved to start rubbing up and down your thigh. “you okay?”

“y-yeah.”

“you need a break?”

“i think so.”

bakugou nodded and looked to kirishima, who broke into a grin and bent over you just a little, his voice dropping an octave. “let’s take a nice long break, then, huh doll? you think you might wanna relax a bit with us? take your mind off the pain?”

“what?” you shifted to sit up on your elbows, wincing from the pain in your chest, looking between them.

kirishima laughed, “come on, doll. i know you didn’t come in here wearing just that tiny skirt for nothin’.”

“you can say no.” bakugou’s hand moved off your thigh, clearly the more level headed of the two. “we’ll take a break and come back in a half hour to keep going-“

“wait.” you flushed and put up a hand to make him shut up, glancing between them. “you’re not- together?”

“well, yeah, fucking obviously we are,” bakugou rolled his eyes at you while kiri chuckled, “but if we see a hot chick, we’re not gonna say no.”

“true.” kiri was practically purring.

they were standing over you, broad shoulders and tattooed hands and muscle, red eyes honed in on your shirtless form, and for some reason you allowed your inhibitions to fall away.

you took a deep breath and pouted. “just don’t make me get an infection on my new piercings.”

“never.” bakugou cracked his first real grin, foxlike and dirty, already moving back down towards your legs to start pushing your knees apart. you sat up a bit more, onto your hands, sucking in a breath when the bench dipped under bakugou’s added weight as he pushed your knees far apart and revealed your plain cotton panties with an obvious wet spot in the crotch, your pussy throbbing with the realization.

bakugou hummed as he slid rough fingertips down the insides of your thighs. “look at that shit, red. she’s already soaked. got this pretty pussy all needy even after pokin’ her.”

“figured as much. she was all spaced out during her tat.” kiri’s meaty hand slipped around the column of your throat, practically engulfing it in one palm as he turned your head to make you look up at him.

you gasped, and kirishima’s mouth came crashing down onto yours; he had to practically crouch to get even close to you where you were sitting. your hands flew up to his hair, body twisting slightly as bakugou started to work his fingers along your hips to further push your skirt up around them.

you felt yourself start to whimper as bakugou pushed your panties to the side and slipped two fingers through your wet folds. you shook and moaned as his fingers skillfully rubbed slow circles into your clit, making your hips jerk.

kiri laughed against your lips and squeezed his hand slightly around the column of your throat, pulling away from your mouth to look at your dazed expression. “lay back, doll.”

he guided you back to lay on the bench again, letting go of your throat only for a moment to start unbuckling his belt. “kats, i’m takin’ her mouth first, mkay?”

“hm?” bakugou glanced up from where he was licking his lips, about to press his nose to your pussy. “oh, yeah sure whatever. i’m getting a taste first.”

“someone’s got an oral fixation.”

“shut the fuck up, you red-haired loser.”

you felt yourself start to giggle at their interactions, but suddenly there were lips wrapped tightly around your cliff and a fat cock hanging over your face, drooling with pre.

you swallowed as your mouth practically started to water. your head was spinning as bakugou worked his tongue against your clit, a finger starting to push its way into your right, wet heat. you moaned and felt your eyes flutter, fingers curling into the sides of the piercing bench. “ah, i-i don’t know if i can fit-“

“shh. all you gotta do is swallow. can you try just the tip?” kiri cocked his head at you, suddenly all puppy eyes as he stroked his cock to his boyfriend eating you out.

you whimpered and nodded. how could you say no? you ground your hips against bakugou’s face as your lips parted, and kirishima pushed just the fat head of his cock past them with a low groan.

you felt full. bakugou started to push a second finger into your weeping hole, drool and your juices dripping down his chin and dotting the bench as he ate you out and found the spongy spot within you that made your back arch off the bench, knees attempting and failing to snap shut around his head. bakugou growled against your pussy, unhappy with you disturbing his meal.

you couldn’t respond what with kirishima shallowly thrusting into your mouth, working inch after inch into you. you felt his heady tip hit the back of your throat as your head hung down over the edge of the bench, and you coughed and sputtered.

“shh, careful, careful. breathe.” his hand returned to your throat, feeling the way he slipped further and further in. his balls hung down in your face as he started to effectively fuck your throat, groaning when you whined around him.

you did your best to suck his cock, slobbering and drooling down your cheeks as your eyes rolled back when bakugou removed his mouth and rubbed circles into your clit with his thumb. “she tastes fuckin’ good.”

“yeah? y’think so?”

“yeah,” bakugou breathed out, almost like an offering, and as he pulled his fingers out of your wet pussy, he shoved them directly into kirishima’s mouth.

kiri groaned loudly and sucked on bakugou’s fingers with the eagerness of a dog, gripping your throat with one hand and bakugou’s wrist in the other. he made sure bakugou’s fingers were clean before letting go and rolling his hips against your face. “shit.”

“mhm.” bakugou was panting as he hurriedly fussed with his jeans, shoving them down enough to get his cock free. it was difficult, positioning himself on the bench, but he made it work as he slapped his tip against your clit.

you cried out and gagged again on kirishima’s fat cock, gurgling pathetically while they both laughed at you.

“poor babydoll,” bakugou hissed, pressing his tip to your entrance, “she can hardly breathe, eiji.”

“she’s doin’ a good fucking job. i can feel how deep i am in her throat.”

“i can fuckin’ see that.” bakugou snapped right back before taking a deep breath and sinking so slowly into your pussy.

your walls fluttered around his cock as he sheathed himself inside you, one hand gripping your hip dangerously tight and the other reaching to grab for kirishima’s free hand. “fuck, red, she feels so fucking tight.”

“if- if you think her pussy’s tight, wait till you feel her throat.” kiri panted lowly as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand over you.

you felt like an object, a plaything, lightheaded and so, so full, almost screaming when they both started to fuck into you at once; they were slightly off pace, both focused on their own pleasure, chasing their highs and smothering you all the while.

kirishima’s hand slid from your throat to the middle of your chest, a compressing weight that left you truly breathless as his balls practically smacked into you. you did your best to try and suck his cock, really, you did, but it was so difficult when bakugou was bullying your pussy and making you shake and cry out.

kirishima was the first to falter, his hips starting to jerk erratically as your vision blurred from tears of pleasure. “oh fuck yeah, fuck, ‘m gonna cum-“

“already? pathetic.” bakugou snapped, only egging kirishima on and making him whine as he tossed his head back and came deep in your throat, making you gag and choke.

he didn’t pull out until the thick, heady ropes of his cum were seated on your tongue, taking a step back to let his fat cock slap wetly against his thigh. it was clear, then, that his refractory period was short; he was already at half mast again as he watched bakugou fuck you into the bench, hiking one of your legs up around his waist to get deeper.

you cried out loudly, voice ragged and ruined as bakugou’s thumb returned to your clit.

“come on pretty girl, lemme feel you cum around my fuckin’ cock first. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel ya squeezin’ me in. shit, baby, fucking cum for me.”

your back arched off the table and your eyes rolled back as you came hard around his cock, your vision going white as you jerked and spasmed on the table. bakugou moaned and dropped his head forward, holding on until the last second when he could pull out and cum all over your twitching cunt, jerking himself off all the way. thick ropes of cum splattered against your skin and made you shiver, all parts of you sensitive.

kirishima, cock still out and hard again, stepped over to swipe his fingers through your pussy and get a taste of yours and bakugou’s cum, groaning deep in his throat as he pressed an almost chaste kiss to bakugou’s cheek. “you wanna fuck her throat next?”

“fuck yes i do.”

[bluem1lls]

(srry for anon😭) id love to see a se-mi smut fic with the brothers best friend trope… obviously only if ur comfy w it!!! im literally taking se-mi crumbs rn but i adore ur fics !

✧₊⁺ i can see you (makes me want you even more)

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: don't ever fall for your brother's best friend. but when she kisses you like that, when she fucks you like that, how could you not?

content: minors DNI, brother's best friend! se-mi x younger sister reader, smut, fingering/oral (r!receiving), spanking, daddy kink, squirt, choking, angst, se-mi is 24 here x reader is 22, fluff at the end!

authors note: hiii omg im so sorry for the weekend, i was exhausted!! but i made this, gathering these three requests together so i hope you love it!

"no"

"yes- it's not even a question! she's coming!"

"you lied to me! you said she wasn't!"

"you wouldn't have come if i told you!"

i sighed as i smacked him. he quickly hit me back.

"if she bothers me, i'll punch her. i'm not kidding."

"fine, whatever" my brother, nam-gyu, rolled his eyes.

he's been insisting that i came to this trip for like a year, saying he missed me. i haven't seen the gang for a whole year. we all used to get along just fine, except se-mi and i.

she used to make fun of me for being nam-gyu's little sister. ever since they became friends (when i was 12 and they were 14), she's been a bitch to me. i argued more with her than with my own brother, but somehow, she always found a way to fix it at night.

when her and her girlfriend mocked me for my pjs at 16, making me cry, she waited till midnight to sneak into my room, laying in bed besides me as we watched my favorite tv show.

"i'm sorry. i really like these. don't ever take them off"

and when i was 18, she told the entire group i was the most annoying girl she knew. but once they all left, she set up a pillowfort downstairs along with my favorite snacks. we played videogames there all night.

"i'm sorry. it wasn't true. you're the coolest girl i know"

and when i turned 20, me and nam-gyu had a big fight. she took his side while i sobbed. but when everyone went to bed, she came to my room and hold me as i sobbed on her chest until i fell asleep on her.

"you're so stubborn.. but we-..b-but he loves you so much. he's trying to take care of you"

and with time, i started to fell in love with her. the feelings growing more and more each year.

she was my first love. my first not reciprocated love.

"hurry up, min-su said they're outside!"

"i'm coming" i yelled at him as i grabbed my suitcase, checking if i packed everything.

as we left the house and said goodbye to our parents, my brother carried my luggage to the trunk.

thanos switched from driver to the passenger seat to leave nam-gyu. se-mi was sitting in the backseat, looking by the window from the left side. min-su was in the middle and i was supposed to sit on the right side of the window seat.

i opened the car door and got in as the three stared at me up and down.

"look who's finally here" thanos turned around to smirk at me as he spoke. "holy shit you look so much older! the last time we saw you you were like 21, how old are you now?"

"you don't say that to a girl! and it's been only a year!" i smacked his head as he winced.

"we missed you! even se-mi missed you!" i hugged min-su as i rolled my eyes at his comment while se-mi snorted.

"how could i not miss the princess of the group?" she said in a low voice. our eyes met after one year as she scanned my face.

here we go again.

"hey. we will have a peaceful trip to the cabin. did the four of you heard me?" my brother said, getting in as he started the car.

"can we go get something to eat?" i whined.

"you just finished the entire bag of pretzels all by yourself, and you're still hungry?" min-su said, not even looking at me as the four of them were rotting on the couch, playing with the ps4 dad installed last summer.

"i swear i'll start crying, i'm starving! and i've also been wanting to play all afternoon but none of you-" i said as the doorbell interrupted my big speech. se-mi quickly got up and threw the controller to me as i lifted one brow.

"take it, got more important shit to do than to hear you whine" she said, running to open the door.

i could hear a feminine voice talking as se-mi chuckled and moved aside, letting her in.

"come in pretty, so, this is the entire gang and that's nam-gyu's annoying little sister" she said introducing us, as i stared offended.

the girl stood behind her. she had long black hair and soft eyes, she looked just like one of se-mi's perfect victims.

the guys said a quick 'hey', without even taking their eyes off the screen.

"but let's go upstairs, i'll show you my room" se-mi said, grabbing her hand while pulling her upstairs.

once they disappeared, i let out a furious scoff.

"seriously?"

"you know how she is; we don't even try anymore. she has more game than we do" thanos mumbled as he eliminated my brother from the game, celebrating on his face.

"don't start any-" nam-gyu said as i cut him.

"if i hear any moans, i swear to god-"

and of course, not even 20 minutes later, we could all hear the loud moans and screams coming out of se-mi's room.

i swear, fuck her.

i checked the time as i left my comfortable bed. i read the clock's display, 2:30 am.

i put on one of my brother's big shirts that i stole from him as i got downstairs to get a midnight snack and some water.

i turned on the kitchen lights to find se-mi, with a green shirt and some grey sweatpants leaned against the counter, hair on her face as she scrolled through her phone. she lifted her gaze, smirking when she found my face.

"apparently i can't even get some water without you being around" i mumbled, passing by her side and going straight to the fridge to grab the water bottle and a glass from the shelves as she chuckled.

"weird, because if i remember correctly, the last time we saw each other you were saying something entirely different."

i closed my eyes at the memories of last time in the cabin. a year ago, when she lifted me and took me upstairs to her room. her hands were in my hair while she kissed me. my lips red and swollen. her hands teasing my folds over-

i close the fridge as i straighten myself, looking at her.

"a mistake, remember?" i said, sarcastically smirking, quoting her words from last time.

"this-this was a mistake. if nam gyu finds out, we're both fucking dead. this never happened." she said, putting on her jeans and looking for her shirt.

i should've kept my mouth shut.

but the words slipped out as she kissed my neck, her fingers inside of me.

"i love you, se-mi"

i covered my naked body with a sheet, ashamed. "i'm in love with you" my stare lost in a blank point.

she stopped changing as she stared at me, her eyes wide.

"you don't. i'm just older than you and you think you're in love-"

"i know i am!" i shouted as she shushed me, getting close to me.

"you're not. and i definitely know i'm not. we know better. you like fucking around and i do too, that's all this was." she said, grabbing my face to meet hers. she scanned my watery eyes as she wiped the tears.

"we know better than to fall in love just because a night of good sex" she said

"and then i never saw you again after that. you suddenly were 'too busy hanging out' everytime i was in your house." she said. the memories hitting us both like a trainwreck.

"i didn't wanted to see your face again"

"i wanted to see yours" she said, slowly moving closer to me. her hands gripping my waist, holding me against the wall.

"why? to tell me once again how it was just one night of good sex and that's all?"

her eyes trailed all over my face, one of her hands left my waist to cup my face, her thumb gently caressing my cheek.

she sighed, pressing her forehead against mine.

"i'm so weak for you" she murmur, making me sigh.

"don't do this se-mi.." i closed my eyes as i felt my heart flutter.

as i open my mouth to speak again, a soft feminine voice interrumpted us from upstairs.

"se-mi? did you get the water? i'm thirsty"

of course. i should've seen it coming.

i scoffed as i pushed her off. she also seemed to regain consciousness as she quickly grabbed a glass of water and filled it up without saying a word. she stared at me with a hint of.. guilt? before making her way upstairs with the girl.

pretending to hate eachother was the healthiest thing we could've done.

i stopped partying every night once i hit 22, but sometimes, i missed it. mostly, my old version. the one who used to fuck around, who wasn't afraid, the life of the party and most importantly;

i miss the old me, who wasn't completely in love with se-mi.

so yeah, maybe i wasn't in my right mind when we started taking a few shots with the guys before the anual party they threw in the cabin everytime they did their summer trip.

and maybe i wasn't in my right mind when i called my ex fling to come to the party because well... what could go wrong?

i layed a few oufit options in my bed as i prepped the shower, feeling a bit tipsy as i choose the skirt and top that most went with my style.

i got out the shower, wrapping myself in a towel as i started applying my hair products. i felt the door open as se-mi walked in and closed it behind her.

"the guys want to know if you're done already because we want to start shower-" she stop mid-sentence, taking in my naked framed wrapped with just one towel.

her eyes lingered on me like a pervert, making me roll my eyes.

"yes, is that all?" i said, she roamed my body like she was trying to undress me.

she hummed while stepping closer to me, grabbing the little towel knot that stopped it from unwrapping me.

"you gonna get all dolled up for me?" she said, her other hand went to my hip.

"not for you" i slapped her hand as she chuckled. she grabbed me from my arm, pulling me against her.

"you're such a brat. bet you love knowing the effect you have on me hm?" her breath fanning against my neck made me shiver, she let out soft chuckle. "if my hand lowers a little more, i can even feel how soaked it makes you. isn't that right princess?" she said, placing a kiss on my neck, making me feel uneasy.

"you need my fingers? like last time?" she whispered on my ear, kissing and licking my neck as i tried to suppress a moan.

"why yours, if i could get more skillfulled ones?" i said, pushing her away. i grabbed my hairbrush to focus on something else as she scoffed at my statement.

"yeah? they have you clenching, dripping down your thighs like i did?"

"oh yes! i remember my last hookup, she had me begging for more. i even remember calling her dadd-" her hand quickly wrapped around my throat, my back against her chest.

she tightened her grip while choking me, making my cunt throb for more as she made me look at myself in the mirror.

"if i hear you say something like that again i swear-"

"se-mi? stop making my sister mad and come help with the drinks" nam-gyu's voice could be heard from downstairs, breaking the moment. she lose her grip and step away, shouting back. "coming!"

she turned around one more time before leaving my room.

"we're not done princess. if you wanna be a brat, you'll get punished like one"

i left my room with my makeup, hair and outfit done. i locked the door so one got in as i took a quick look at the house. it seemed pretty full even though the party was just getting started.

as i got downstairs, i could see my brother with thanos, min-su and se-mi with a girl on her lap. they were smoking and drinking on the couch.

"look who finally finished getting ready!" thanos said, whistling as he took a look at my outfit.

"that is so short" nam-gyu tried to pull my skirt down as i slapped his hand.

"stop it! i like it that way" i said.

se-mi's eyes didn't leave my body, not even as she squeezed the girl's waist tighter. her stare was glued on my thighs as the short skirt left little to the imagination. i could see her gaze darkening with desire. she hummed in agreement with nam-gyu.

se-mi lifted an eyebrow as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. i turned around to see no-eul.

"look who's finally here! you invite me yet you don't even wait for me at the door, rude"

my ex.. fling? all the guys knew her. and se-mi did too, of course.

i leave a kiss on the corner of her mouth, as she said a quick hello to my friends. i dragged her to a corner more far away from se-mi and my brother as i heard the group laughing, all except for her.

i could feel her cold stare follow my moves as i headed to the kitchen with no-eul. i grabbed a bottle and poured a shot for her and another for me.

"so, what brings you back?" she said, her arms possesively going around my waist as i drank.

"nothing important, as always" i chuckled, staring at her. "happy to see me?" i said as she nods, cupping my face.

"always" her reply makes me smirk.

as she gets closer to place a kiss, i feel a soft push, breaking us from the moment.

"can i grab the bottle or?" a low voice said, making me face right just to meet se-mi's annoyed gaze.

i handle the bottle as she leans against the counter, staying right besides us.

"you look so pretty tonight" no-eul said as i could see se-mi rolling her eyes from the corner.

"yeah? all for you" i bit my lip as i slid her hand to guide her to my waist. i heard the brunette besides me mumbling something as she kept staring at us.

"you have a problem?" no-eul turned to face se-mi, with an annoyed expression.

se-mi drank a shot, her eyes taking my face.

"oh sorry, it's just that when i had her upstairs with my fingers wrapped around her throat, she didn't seemed to be 'all pretty just for you' " she snickered, making no-eul clench her jaw as she gazed at me.

"are you for real?"

"no! she's a fucking liar, wait-" i cupped her face as she got rid of my grip.

"i'll go get something to smoke, excuse me" she said, disappearing in the crowd.

i turned to se-mi as i punched her arm and she winced.

"you're a fucking jealous cunt and-"

"and you're making me go insane with that little skirt." she said, stopping my rant mid-sentence as i stared at her. "and if you don't stop flirting, i'll have to bend you over against this counter, move your pretty panties aside and insert two fingers on that pretty cunt so everyone can see who's the only one that can do it" she said, pressing our bodies together. she turned around to see if any of the guys could see or hear us, but they were too busy with some girls.

i stood there frozen.

fuck it.

i grabbed the nape of her neck, pulling her towards me, her lips meeting mine with a harsh and desesperate kiss. she quickly returned it.

after a few minutes she softly pushed me, grabbing my hand to drag us to the nereast bathroom. as we got in, she locked the door behind us.

she quickly pushed me against the door, grabbing my thighs to lift me up, making me wrap my legs around her as she kissed me for a second time tonight.

i grabbed her neck, making the kiss more intense. our tongues fought for dominance as we both moaned.

her lips broke with mine to deposit open-mouthed kisses on my neck, biting and licking as i leaned my head aside, giving her better access.

"w-wait se-mi" i said as she kept kissing me. "no, stop"

she stopped the kisses. her eyes were almost black from lust, her lips red and her face filled with a confused expression as she let me down on my feet again.

"i don't get it se-mi. 'this was a mistake', but your eyes want to undress me everytime we're together. and we 'can't date', but everytime i try to move on to forget about you, you're always there to make sure i don't" i raised my voice, that couldn't even be heard right because of the loud music coming from outside.

her hands rubbed her face in frustration as she took a deep breath. she grabbed my hand again, pulling me upstairs and leading into my room. she closed the door behind her as she turned to look at me.

"do you know what nam-gyu would say? he would kick my ass for dating his little sister, i can't do that to my best friend!"

"you can't do that to your best friend so you choose to break my heart instead?"

"that's never what i wanted!"

"well that's what you did when you left me naked in bed, crying my eyes out while you moved on, fucking any girl you could to forget about me because i know damn well you liked me too!" i said, almost screaming. my breathing getting heavier as i took a step towards her.

"doll, i can't-"

"if you can't, then stop messing with my life! if you don't want to date me because you're too afraid then let me fuck with whoever i want! i'm sick of you controlling every interaction i have with someone. either you decide to get serious with me or back off and leave me alone" i said, anger could be heard in every word i said.

she froze at my words. her eyes widen and her lip trembled.

"i guess you're right" she stepped away from me, turning to leave. "i don't deserve you. i- i know you'll find someone better to fall in love with." she said, watching my teary eyes as she left my room, closing the door behind her as i finally let my tears fall.

i lowered my shoulders as i sat in bed, letting out a choked sob. i felt so...pathetic.

i stared at the ceiling for 5 minutes, cursing her in every language i knew while i kept crying.

suddenly, i felt the doorknob moving as the door opened.

and there she was, standing there. she bit her lip piercing as she re-entered my room, closing the door and leaning against it while she stared at me. my eyes wide as i open my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"i know i don't deserve you but.. i'd rather change to be the person you need than letting you go with someone else." she came towards me, her hands cupping my face. "i'll be damned if i see anyone laying their hands on my girl." she said, smashing her lips against mine as i moaned in surprise.

she was leaning since i was in bed, so i grabbed her shirt and pulled her, making her fall on top of me. our lips never breaking the kiss.

i sneaked my arms around her neck, pulling her deeper as she bite my lower lip, making me whimper.

"my pretty girl" she said as her knee got in between my legs, pressing against my center, making me whimper. "i'm keeping that skirt i swear to god. you're such a tease. i wanted to lift it and fuck you right there and then"

"w-wore it just for you, daddy" i hiccuped as her knee made my clit twitch and my cunt throb.

she let out a low groan as she heard my words. her hand wrapped around my throat, leaving me with little to no air as her tongue entered my mouth.

"did anyone ever fucked you the way i did baby? did anyone ever made you squirt like i did that night?" she said, breaking the kiss with a possessive tone as her grip tightened.

i shook my head no, my brain feeling fuzzy from lust and desire.

she lifted my skirt, giving a harsh slap at my pussy, making me let out a choked moan.

"use your words like the big girl you are" she said in a low tone.

"no one e-ever touched me like you did"

her hands roamed through my body, harshly pulling down my top, letting my tits out as i didn't had a bra on. she took one nipple on her mouth, while her hand sneaked to my covered cunt, softly spreading with her fingers the wet patch that formed in my panties, pressing at my clit. i couldn't stop moaning from the sensation.

she separated her mouth of my tits with a loud 'pop'. her fingers pushed my thong aside, spreading the wetness all over my cunt and using it as lube to get two fingers inside of me as her other hand left my throat and flew to my mouth.

"sh, sh, we don't want anyone hearing those pretty moans" she cooed, making my eyes watery from pleasure as her fingers thrusted harsh and quick inside of me.

she lowered to get her face in between my legs, one hand holding my panties aside as the other one kept thrusting. she spit on my cunt, spreading the glob with her tongue around my aching clit.

i chanted her name as her fingers hit the spongy spot inside of me, making my walls clench around her as she moaned, making vibrations hit my clit. my eyes rolled back as i gripped the bedsheets.

as she felt me getting closer and closer, her fingers suddenly left my inside, making me sob.

she moved me around to place me in all fours and slowly began to remove my damp panties. the sight from my mirror was pornographic. the mascara tears running down my cheeks, my tits hanging from the top, my panties now pooled around my knees as the skirt revealed my drooling pussy underneath it.

se-mi gave a few harsh slaps, spanking me. the red print of her hand on my ass felt warm. her fingers gathered my slickness as i felt her breath against me. she licked a fat strip of my pussy from behind, making me moan loudly.

"such a whore. you were this desesperate for me to fuck you again?" she said teasingly as i nodded. "my needy girl"

"please, please daddy" i sobbed as i felt her fingers tease my entrance. my cunt clenching around nothing, waiting for her.

she hummed as her two fingers entered inside of me again, making me whimper as a few tears slipped.

"so pretty on your knees. just for me"

she trusted ruthless as my hand sneaked to circle my clit, clenching around her.

all i could heard was the music downstairs and the wet squelching sounds my cunt made, all wet for her. i couldn't stop moaning louder and louder everytime she hit that spot.

"f-fuck. gonna. cum" i whimpered as the circles on my clit got sloppier and her moves got deeper and quicker. "daddy- i'm gonna squirt all your fingers" i said as she moaned, her fingers going at a faster pace at my words.

while she kept fucking me, her other hand went to my hair, pulling it as she gave one more thrust. the tingle from the harsh pain and her fingers inside made the heat on my lower tummy snap as i could feel myself squirting all over her fingers, wetting the sheets underneath as my body collapsed in bed.

her thrusts got slower until they stopped completely. she removed her fingers from inside of me and placed them on my mouth as i licked them clean with my tongue. she bite her lip and kissed me one last time before getting up.

she came back with a small towel to clean me and then got rid of her clothes, laying besides me.

she hugged me as my head positioned on her chest.

"there wasn't a time in where i wasn't in love with you" she whispered. it felt so intimate, only for me to hear.

"when we were younger, when you got mad at me, the first time we kiss, when we hooked up, i was always head over heels for you, princess". she said. her hand softly caressing my hair, making my eyes close. "i kept trying to forget about you all the time but the feelings were always there, reminding me that i'll never stop loving you. and if, us being together, means we'll have to tell your annoying brother who will probably murder me after, i'll still do it for you"

i smiled and softly chuckled. my heart fluttering from happiness, and god, butterflies were small in comparison to what she made me feel.

"i never stopped loving you either" i replied, feeling a kiss on my temple.

and this time felt different. the cold feeling i had before, when she left me alone in bed, was no longer there.

it felt warm now, with her body besides mine, her love-filled gaze. i knew this time was going to be different.

[theswordwrites]

fresh out the slammer (azriel x reader)

Summary: Fresh off of a breakup, you seek out Azriel, searching for the spark you've been missing so much

Warnings: 18+, smut, light d/s dynamics, exes reuniting, cheating, no use of y/n

Word Count: 5,887

Author's Note: I've literally never written smut before. However, I have read a hell of a lot of it and I gave it my best shot! Thanks for reading <3

Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder He don't understand me Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter He was with her in dreams

Being in a boring relationship was one thing. You told yourself that you’d been together for too long to walk away—that leaving would mean unraveling everything you’d built. For what? A lack of excitement? A dwindling spark? People would kill for this kind of stability, for the comfort of a partner who always came home at the end of the day. He didn’t understand you—not really—but he pretended to well enough. And you were tired. Tired enough to pretend, too.

But being cheated on? That was something else entirely.

There was no more pretending after that. No justifying, no rationalizing. And it wasn’t even the betrayal that gutted you—it was the relief. As if he'd finally said out loud what neither of you had the courage to admit. You’d both been miserable. He just had the gall to do something about it first.

So you packed the boxes. Called in the moving winnows. Signed a lease on the other side of Velaris. It all happened quickly, almost too easily, like the city was glad to see you start over.

The sting faded as you hung new curtains. Unpacked old books. Rearranged your kitchen three times just because you could. You played music louder, cooked dinner later, took long walks in the dark with no one to check in with. You were free.

And yet…

Some nights, when the silence stretched too long and the wine bottle tipped past half, your mind wandered—to shadows, to secrets, to the one who had known you even when you didn’t want to be known.

To Azriel.

You hadn’t seen him in years. Not really. There were moments, of course, across the Sidra, passing glimpses during court events, or half-hearted waves exchanged in crowded rooms. But you’d kept your distance. He had too. There was history there. Not all of it good.

So you definitely weren’t thinking about him when you pulled on a tight black dress and called your friends to meet you at Rita’s. You told yourself you just wanted noise. Music. A room where nobody knew your name or your heartbreak. Somewhere you could pretend, just for a few hours, that you weren’t newly single, freshly humiliated, and painfully alone.

The bass was loud. The wine was stronger. And the heat of bodies pressed together on the dance floor made it easy to forget everything that had driven you here. You let yourself sway, sip, smile when someone’s hand lingered too long on your hip. You were fine. You were free.

You were halfway through another glass of wine, half laughing, half pretending to listen to whatever your friend was saying, when your body stilled.

You felt him before you saw him. Like a chill across your skin, a shift in the room’s gravity. The shadows curled, familiar and electric, the air pulling tighter around your lungs. And then, across the bar—there he was.

Azriel.

Leaning against the edge of the counter, dressed in black and shadowed like always. His scarred hands wrapped around a drink he didn’t seem to care about. His eyes, those godsdamned eyes, already on you.

You froze. So did he.

Something flickered between you at that moment. Unspoken, unfinished.

Your breath caught. Your wine glass tipped a little too far.

He didn’t move. Neither did you.

And suddenly, the noise of the club, the ache of the last few months, the entire city of Velaris—it all narrowed to him.

He was still just as handsome. All shadows and sharp edges, wings tucked behind him like they were made of something dangerous and divine. His hazel eyes landing on you like they always did—like they knew you. The years hadn’t softened him. If anything, they’d only carved him deeper: the hard line of his jaw, the broad set of his shoulders, the cool composure that barely masked the tension underneath. And those shadows, they still clung to him like smoke, like secrets, like they were alive and watching.

Gods, he looked good. Unfairly good. And worse, he looked exactly the way he used to, like no time had passed at all.

You hated how easily it all came back. The way his gaze could hold you still. The way your body still reacted like it belonged to him, your spine straightening and a familiar heat growing in your belly. You took another sip of wine to hide it, to calm the flush creeping up your neck, but gods, it didn’t help. Because he was still Azriel. He was still him. And apparently, you were still hopelessly, stupidly, tragically not over it.

You should’ve looked away. Should’ve turned back to your friends, finished your drink, left him standing there like a ghost from another life.

But the wine was warm in your veins, and you were tired of pretending you didn’t care. Tired of feeling trapped.

So you moved.

Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to (Fresh out the slammer, oh)

One step. Then another. The crowd seemed to part for you, the music a dull hum compared to the drumbeat in your chest. And he didn’t look away. He just watched. Steady. Still. Like he’d known you were coming the whole time.

By the time you reached him, you could smell the scent of him—leather, cedar, rain. Familiar enough to make your throat ache. You stopped in front of him, heart pounding in your throat.

“Azriel,” you said, his name already tasting like regret on your tongue.

He said yours in return, low and steady, and gods, he still made it sound like you belonged to him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.” The words were awkward on your tongue, rushed and quieter than you meant them to be.

Azriel’s eyes scanned your face. “You came looking.”

He had always been able to see right through you, understand you with a single glance.

You huffed a quiet, bitter laugh. “Maybe I did.”

There was a beat of silence. A flicker of something old and aching in his gaze.

“You look good,” he said finally. “Different.”

“Different like ‘miserable and freshly dumped,’ or different like ‘you moved on without me’?”

He didn’t smile, just kept those pretty eyes set on your face. “Both.”

You looked down at your wine glass, swirling what was left. “He was stable. Predictable. The kind of male who got home for dinner and never forgot to buy milk.”

“Sounds… thrilling.”

You met his eyes. “It wasn’t. Not really. But it felt safe. After you, I needed safe.”

His throat bobbed, brow arching with the question. “So that’s what I was? Unsafe?”

The words weren’t angry, just edged with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment. “You were everything. And that was the problem. You were late nights and secrets and war meetings and silence when I needed you most. You were the dream I couldn’t wake up from.”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, quietly.

“Don’t.” You stepped back, just a little. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

The wine burned in your blood. Your heart pounded, too loud in your chest.

“I do,” he said, voice low—almost a growl. “I meant it then. I mean it now.”

You let out a breath, shaky and uneven. “Why now, Azriel? Why tonight?”

“Because you’re here. Because the second I saw you, it felt like no time had passed. Because I never wanted to let you go, I just didn’t know how to hold on.”

The confession swept over you like a wave, sudden and relentless, leaving your cheeks flushed and your lips slightly parted, breathless from the force of it.

“Come home with me.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, before you could unravel what they might mean in the morning, when the wine had left your system and your sense of self preservation returned.

The moment they left your lips, regret crashed over you like a wave. You almost pulled back, almost tried to take it back—but the look in Azriel’s eyes stopped you, holding you in place like he’d always done.

He stepped closer, his voice low, but there was an edge to it now.

“Lead the way.”

And so you did.

His hand found yours in the crowd, and you nearly choked on the way it felt—so right, his scarred skin slotting against yours like it had never been apart.

How had you ever let him go? Let go of that feeling—the one that consumed you, the one that whispered there was no one else who could ever compare?

The two of you had never been ones for small talk, so the short walk was quiet but not uncomfortable. His hand gave yours a gentle squeeze before you pulled apart to unlock your front door, deliberately ignoring the slight tremor of anticipation that ran through you.

He had you pinned against the lilac wallpaper of the hallway before you could blink. His kiss was slow, but there was an underlying desperation in it—one you knew all too well.

"Missed this. Missed you," he murmured against your lips, his hands firm on your waist. You could only nod in response, feeling the scrape of his stubble against your cheek as your other hand tightened around his jacket.

"I bet you missed me too," he said, his voice low and gravelly as his lips trailed from yours to your jaw. "Missed having me this close."

You had.

You had thought of him in those quiet, aching moments—after being left unsatisfied, wanting. Had touched yourself to the memory of him, no matter how much the shame of it burned. You had locked those thoughts away in a vault, only daring to open it in the dead of night.

"Say it," he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your jugular for emphasis, then soothing it with the flick of his tongue.

You couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny him. Not anymore.

"I missed you, Azriel," you whispered, your back arching as he pressed into you, his hardness unmistakable against you. The warmth of him made you squirm, your breath catching.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath ragged, chest rising and falling with the effort to steady himself. His gaze searched yours, dark and conflicted.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, voice raw, barely above a whisper.

There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something you recognized as the same uncertainty that had haunted both of you when you parted. "I won’t be able to stop if we—"

You didn’t let him finish. You couldn’t.

His hesitation only made the heat inside you burn brighter. You didn’t care about the past. You didn’t care about the reasons you’d walked away before. All that mattered was the feeling of his lips on your skin, the way he made your heart race with nothing but a look. You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you with a need that was desperate, primal almost.

"I don’t want to stop," you whispered against his lips, breathless. "I need this. I need you."

His eyes darkened, lips curling into something feral. Without another word, he kissed you again, hard, fierce, like he’d been starving for this, too. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding under your dress, running up your thighs with a haste that matched the pounding of your heart. His fingers were rough, but every touch made you feel more alive, more aware of every inch of him.

You moaned into the kiss as he slowly lifted you against the wall, pressing his body against yours in a way that made everything else fade away. There was no past, no doubt, just the sensation of him—his warmth, his strength, the way he fit against you like he was meant to be there.

"Azriel," you gasped, hands tangled in his hair, your body already trembling with desire.

His voice was low, almost growling, as he trailed kisses down your neck. "You don't know how long I've wanted this… wanted you." His words were laced with frustration, with longing, as if he was finally getting a taste of what he’d been denied for too long. "I won’t hold back this time."

“Don’t hold back,” you answered, shaking your head like a mad woman.

"Bedroom?" he asked, his voice low, pulling away just enough to look down at you with that hungry gaze of his, but not letting your feet touch the floor.

"Down the hall, to the left."

Without a word, he carried you, the movement effortless. He set you down gently—far gentler than you expected—his eyes never leaving yours. The two of you were still breathing heavily, faces flushed with desire as you found yourself perched on the edge of the bed, your legs bracketing his, the space between you charged with anticipation.

He ran a finger down your temple, his gaze lingering on every inch of you as if committing you to memory.

“What’s our word, doll?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with a knowing edge. You didn’t need to ask which word he meant.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, the weight of the question hanging thick between you. You hesitated for a breath, drunk on the intensity in his eyes, the way he made you feel both exposed and wanted.

“Mountain,” you breathed, your voice unsteady as you blinked up at him.

He was a vision above you, the soft light casting shadows across his disheveled hair and the fire in his hazel eyes that burned straight through you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words slipping out like a promise—and a command.

With a gentle push to your shoulders, he lowered you back onto the bed, the quilt soft beneath you, contrasting with the heat rising between you both. The space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, the air thick with the unspoken. He hovered above you, his presence overwhelming.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, then lowering himself to his knees. He ran a gentle hand up your calf, over your knee, and to your thigh. Each inch of skin only served to drive you crazier, the desire for him to touch you only growing.

You fought the urge to squirm, to move closer— to do anything to get closer to him.

“This dress is pretty,” he observed, “I think we’ll keep it on for now, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, his scarred hands pushed the fabric up to your hips, exposing the black lace of your underwear. You felt his lips press against your inner thigh, leaving soft, reverent kisses.

You let out a broken mumble of his name, your hands in tight fists at your sides. He didn’t move any closer to where you needed him, only clicking his tongue once, then twice, before saying, “None of that, doll. Be patient.”

A frustrated whimper left your lips, but you knew it was of no use.

Azriel would take his time taking you apart— each touch, each word meant to drive you mad with desire.

His thumbs hooked into the sides of your underwear, caressing the skin underneath, but not removing them. Your hips hitched, searching for any sort of contact. He was going to be the death of you, you were sure of it. And Gods would this be the way to go.

“So impatient,” he mumbled against your thigh, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to sting, “You need this, don’t you?”

He removed his hands from your hip, opting to run a single knuckle over your covered core.

A whiny, mhm, was your only answer.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, “How long has it been? Since someone’s had you properly satisfied?”

“I— I don’t know,” you answered, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. How long had it been? Months? Years? Since the last time Azriel had you?

Azriel shook his head, removing his hands entirely, “Try again, doll.”

“Not since..” you took in a deep breath, trying to exhale the sting of embarrassment, “Not since you.”

You wish you could prop yourself up on your elbows and catch the surely satisfied look on his face, but you stayed still, knowing he’d only prolong your pleasure further if you moved without permission.

Azriel hummed, a low, satisfied sound, and leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly against your core. Despite the barrier of the black lace, it felt divine— like he was made to be right there, in between your legs.

He pressed a kiss against your clothed clit, then he leisurely ran his nose against the length of your slit, inhaling you. The pressure was just enough to send heat up your spine, your toes curling with anticipation.

“Gods, you smell fucking heavenly.” He growled, hooking the fabric in one finger and pulling it to the side, exposing you to his hungry gaze,

“And this is still the most beautiful cunt I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

His tongue darted out, pressing against your entrance, running up to your clit, sucking harshly before running his tongue over it soothingly. You felt him pull away for a moment, a mewl leaving your lips at the loss of contact, but relief flooded you as he pulled your panties down your legs.

Then he was on you again, his mouth on your cunt, hands gripping roughly at your hips.

This is what you had been longing for— the way he knew you like the back of his hand. How he knew you preferred languid, slow strokes over your slit, a bruising grip on your hips, your legs over his shoulders, ankles hooked behind his neck, heels just barely grazing the spot where his wings met his back.

The relief of it all had your hand drifting to his head—not to tug, but to comb your fingers gently through his disheveled curls. They were just as soft as you remembered, like dark silk slipping through your fingers, a feeling you'd memorized long ago in the quiet moments between love and loss. He leaned into the touch, wordless as he devoured you but knowing, as if he remembered too—how comfort had always lived in the space between your hands and his skin.

A string of breathy moans floated from your lips as his tongue traced over you again, light and barely there— he was pushing you, you realized. Seeing how long he could get away with teasing you, pushing you to the edge of delirium, just to bring you back to him.

You weren’t above begging. Not when it came to him.

“P-please, Az. Please.”

He hummed against you, the vibration only serving to drive you closer to madness.

“I need you,” you murmured, your grip on his hair tightening in warning, “I’ve always needed you.”

That seemed to satiate him as he cracked a small smile against you, humming again. You gasped as he returned to your cunt with vigor, licking and sucking— playing your body like an instrument and he was a world class artist.

You were soaked, your hole clenching around nothing, leaking onto the blanket beneath you.

It was debauched. It was reverence. It was everything.

His name left your lips once, then twice, then again as you felt a finger nudge at your entrance.

Azriel pushed his middle finger in slowly, lips still attached to your clit. You could do nothing but stretch around him, keening under him. You knew the pressure was nothing compared to the way his cock would split you open, but it was delicious and mind numbing all the same.

Once his finger was fully seated in you, prodding at that sweet, spongy spot inside of you, he added another. You were slick enough that you gave no resistance to the intrusion.

“That’s what you needed, baby?” He asked, picking up his pace, bullying his digits into you.

“Yes, yes.” You whined, your hips involuntarily bucking against him.

“And you still need more, hm?” He tutted, his voice taking on a sardonic quality, teasing you. He beckoned his fingers in a way that made stars explode across your vision— your face fuzzy and numb, legs twitching around his shoulders.

And Gods, was he right.

His free hand moved to your lower belly, pressing there. The pressure only added to the pleasure his fingers brought, coaxing you so close bliss. With a few mere strokes and passes over your clit, he had you on the edge of release.

But he still held back, knowing exactly where your limits were.

Your name fell from his lips, somewhere between a prayer and a command, “When you finish, it will be with my cock inside of you, understand?”

“I understand,” you whispered, not trusting your voice, your face twisted in pleasure and eyes shut tight. He gave you one last thrust of his fingers, holding them there for just a breath. The sound you made was nothing short of guttural, coming from somewhere deep inside you— somewhere primal and wanting.

A whine escaped you at the loss of his fingers. You wondered how you survived all these years without him, without the ache of his closeness, the gravity of his touch pulling you back to where you were always meant to be.

Azriel moved over you with quiet purpose, his body a shadowed silhouette in the dim light. He settled at your waist, wings flaring slightly behind him. His face was all sharp lines and focus, a quiet fire burning in his hazel eyes as his fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt—slow, deliberate, like he wanted you to memorize every second of it.

His face, covered in you, might have been the most beautiful thing you’d seen in your immortal life.

You could hardly breathe beneath the weight of him, not from pressure, but from the unbearable anticipation that built with each slow flick of his fingers. Every inch of newly exposed skin felt like a promise, like the echo of something you’d been starving for in silence. His shadows curled along his skin as the shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing the familiar sprawl of tattoos inked across his chest—markings you'd traced once with your fingers, your lips, like a map you could never forget how to read.

You were panting just watching him, your body betraying you, chest rising and falling in time with the wild, reckless rhythm of your heartbeat.

“Tell me what you want.” Azriel commanded, voice rough and low, his gaze locked onto yours with molten intent.

“You,” you whispered, the word trembling from your lips.

He tilted his head, the movement slow and deliberate, as his arms caged you in.

“Be more specific, doll.” Azriel whispered, his voice a tender hush against your skin, all patient hunger and reverent touch, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you gently.

“You inside of me.” You answered.

He nodded once, sliding off of you and dragging his pants and underwear down. His cock sprang free, hard and heady against his stomach.

“What inside of you? Hm?” He prodded in that same teasing tone, stroking himself once, then twice.

You swallowed hard as you watched him, propped up on your elbows now, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Your cock.”

The yearning in your voice was so evident, so raw, it even surprised you.

He stepped forward, eyes never leaving yours as his fingers found the edge of your dress. With a practiced slowness, he hooked the fabric and drew it upward, the hem whispering over your skin before slipping it over your head and casting it aside.

You were left bare before him, need roiling in your gut like a storm, slightly trembling with anticipation. He took his cock in hand and pressed it against your folds, rubbing the blunt head of it against you.

“This is what you wanted?” he asked, voice like smoke and sin, low enough to curl heat through your core. He pressed forward just a bit, his tip catching against your entrance.

Even the small pressure earned a whine from your lips, which he tutted at in return.

“Look at you,” he growls, “So wet for me. Is this all for me?”

You answered with a tilt of your hips, and “It’s all for you.”

“Is that so?”

He emphasized his words with another short thrust, teasing you.

“Az.” You huffed indignantly.

With his feet still planted on the floor, he leaned forward, one hand guiding his cock and the other planted next to your head. With a nip at your jaw, he pushed in again, just enough to make your hands clench against the mattress

“Don’t be a brat,” he murmured against your ear, each short word a spark against your skin, setting every nerve alight.

You thought, for just a moment, that he would tease you like this forever. Keep you right there at the precipice of experiencing that divine pleasure you knew he could give so well. Perhaps as punishment, or for his own satisfaction of seeing you squirm and stutter beneath him

He finally pushed into you fully, your heat welcoming him effortlessly and without resistance, despite the size of him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his lips parted in ecstasy.

You were foolish to think he would ever deny himself of this, of you. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust, like the gentleman he is. His hand, now free with his cock seated inside of you, came to your clit, his thumb rubbing deft circles.

“M-move, please,” you pleaded, voice breathless and aching, like wanting him was the only thing you’d ever known.

Azriel obliged you, setting a slow and languid pace with each press of his hips, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, the force of his hips meeting yours growing with each passing second.

“I bet you fucking missed this,” he growled against you, his voice barely restrained, “Missed having me inside of you— filling you up just how you like.”

His cock hit a sensitive, sweet spot inside of you, drawing out a pathetic whimper. “F-fuck, Az,” you yelp.

His scent was everywhere, invading your senses like smoke through a keyhole—heady and dark, all cedar and wind and something so purely him. It clung to your skin, settled in your lungs, and curled low in your belly.

The warmth of his skin against you is a whole other sensation, covering you, comforting you through the brutal pace he’s set as he pounded into you without ceremony.

Tears gathered in your eyes, spilling onto your flushed cheeks. He kissed one, then the other, the softness in deep contrast to the way he fucked into you roughly.

“Crying for me already, baby?”

You don’t answer.

You can’t answer.

So overrun by the feeling of him inside of you, on top of you. With a sharp pinch to your nipple, he ordered, “Answer me, doll.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “For you. All for you.”

The words are broken, pathetic ones, but he accepts them nonetheless and soothes the sting with his tongue.

“You can take it,” he reassured you, his voice muffled by the skin of your breast, “I know you can. You’re doing so good for me, doll. So fucking good.”

Your loneliness became a distant memory with each thrust of his hips, his groans and heavy breaths against your clavicle coaxing you closer and closer.

“You gonna finish on my cock, huh?” He breathed, his voice losing its edge, sweeter and coaxing now, “Gonna let me fill you up?”

His hand came to the nape of your neck, pulling to lift your head just enough to set your eyes on the sight of him fucking into you.

“I want you to watch. Watch me fuck you.”

You couldn’t respond, nearly hypnotized by the display of his cock pushing in and out of you in quick, hard thrusts.

“Watch. And know that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this— so fucking cock drunk you can’t even speak.”

Your toes curled instinctively, your legs tightening with the force of your oncoming orgasm. You knew he could tell you were close. He had memorized every tell, every twitch, years ago.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “You can come for me, baby. I know you want to.”

Between his words, his hand in your hair and the relentless drag of his cock inside of you, you were already hurdling over the edge with a cry.

“Just like that. Fuck, baby. That’s it.”

A high, keening sound filled your ears—like the rush of wind through a mountain pass. The world narrowed to white heat and the thundering rhythm of him inside of you, everything else drowned out in the crescendo of your climax.

His breath stuttered, body going rigid above yours as a growl tore from his throat. Deep, raw, unrestrained. Shadows coiled tight around you both like a snare, and then he was unraveling, coming apart with your name on his lips like a prayer and a curse all at once. His wings flared, trembling, as though even they couldn’t contain the force of it. And when he finally collapsed, it was with reverence, his forehead pressed to yours like he was anchoring himself back to the world through you. You reveled in the way you could feel his seed against your walls, warm and filling.

He dropped beside you with a low, wrecked sound, his arms coming around you like instinct, like worship. You were pulled into the cradle of his chest, his heartbeat thunderous beneath your cheek, as if his body couldn’t bear to be separate from yours a second longer. Like the tether between you had snapped taut—and drawn him home.

He held you for what felt like hours, tenderly. The silence between you was thick, but not uncomfortable. Just full. The kind of silence that said everything neither of you had dared to say out loud.

Azriel shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. “So…” he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion and something deeper, “was this a mistake?”

You turned your head, meeting his eyes in the dim light.

Gods, he looked tired. Beautiful. Real.

“No,” you said softly. “It was a beginning. Or maybe a return.”

His brow furrowed, just slightly. “What does that mean?”

You smiled faintly, reaching out to trace the scars on his hand with your fingertip. “It means I’m not running this time.”

He watched you for a long moment, like he was memorizing the shape of those words. Then he leaned in, brushing a kiss to your shoulder.

“I waited,” he whispered. “Even when I told myself not to.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers curling nervously around the edge of the blanket. The weight of everything that had passed hung between you—old wounds, choices made, silence that had stretched too long.

Azriel’s gaze softened, as though he’d already sensed what you were about to say.

“I… I owe you an apology,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “For everything. For walking away when it was hard, for not telling you what I needed. For running into something… easy.” You swallowed, the lump in your throat tight. “I thought it would be easier to forget. But I never did.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, a mixture of pain and understanding swirling in them. He stayed silent, but his expression was an answer, one that said so much more than words could.

“I wasn’t strong enough to face what I really wanted,” you continued, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. “And I let myself get comfortable with something safe, even though I knew deep down… it wasn’t you. It wasn’t us.”

He reached out then, his fingers brushing your cheek, not with anger, but something gentler, something understanding. His voice was low, a touch strained. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me.”

“I do,” you said, your voice cracking. “I hurt you, Azriel. I shut you out when you—when you always saw me. And I was too afraid to even admit I still felt it.”

Azriel’s expression softened even further, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah. I just hope I haven’t ruined everything.”

“Some things… are too strong to ruin.” He kissed your forehead gently, and when he pulled back, his voice was soft, but resolute. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You brushed your fingers over the back of his hand, grounding yourself in the truth you’d denied for far too long.

You had left the man who never really saw you. Packed your things, crossed the city, stepped back into a shadowed memory that hadn’t dulled with time. And now, lying here with Azriel—his scent on your skin, his heartbeat echoing in your ears—you felt it deep in your bones:

You were free. You were home.

And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake Here, at the park where we used to sit on children's swings Wearing imaginary rings But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

[jessiso]

"Stick with me"

A Criminal Minds one-shot | Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hotch plans a sweet sticky note scavenger hunt to celebrate a quiet anniversary, leaving you heartfelt messages that lead to a cozy surprise and a reminder of your love.

cw: none just fluff

w/c 1,042

...

You’d always known Aaron Hotchner was a man of few words.

Not unkind or cold—just careful.

Measured. Intentional.

So when he left you a yellow sticky note on the bathroom mirror three weeks into living together, it caught you completely off guard.

“You hum in your sleep. It’s cute. I love you.”

—A.H.

You had stared at it, toothbrush in hand, heart fluttering. And from there, the sticky notes had become your love language.

They weren’t always confessions of love. Sometimes it was just:

“Fed the cat. Left you the last blueberry muffin. I expect praise.”

Or:

“Reminder: You’re brilliant. Knock ‘em dead today.”

Some were downright cheeky:

“If you’re reading this, I already miss you. (But also check the fridge. Surprise inside.)”

(Spoiler: it was your favorite cheesecake.)

And some were so simple they made your chest ache:

“I sleep better with you beside me.”

It had become a habit now. You wrote them for him too—tucked into his go bag, slipped inside files, stuck to the dashboard of his car.

He kept every one, you’d learned. Hidden inside a folder marked “Misc. (Keep)” in his desk drawer.

But today was different.

You knew it the moment you stepped out of the shower and found the first note stuck to the bathroom mirror.

“Follow me.”

The handwriting was unmistakable—firm strokes, slightly slanted, written with the blue pen he kept in the kitchen drawer.

You raised an eyebrow but smiled, wrapping yourself in a towel.

Outside the bathroom, another note was taped to the hallway wall:

“You make even Monday mornings worth waking up for.”

You laughed softly to yourself and padded forward, dripping water and good mood.

Note #3 was at the top of the stairs.

“Don’t forget: I fell for you the first time you yelled at me for skipping breakfast.”

You remembered that day. A whirlwind morning, him halfway to the elevator with only black coffee in his hand. You’d caught him and made him eat a banana. He grumbled the entire time. Later, he kissed you like he was starved. Said you were right.

A little trail of sticky notes led you downstairs, one taped to the bannister:

“I watched you dance in the kitchen last night. No music. Just you and your ridiculous socks. I never wanted anything more.”

You reached the bottom step and turned into the living room.

The sunlight was spilling through the windows. The faint smell of fresh coffee wafted in from the kitchen.

A small pile of sticky notes waited on the arm of the couch—stacked like a tiny paper tower.

You walked over, heart thudding a little faster.

“This is my favorite view: You, sleepy and soft, sunlight in your hair.”

“Sometimes I wake up early just to watch you breathe.”

“I was fine before I met you. But now I can’t imagine going back to that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, already smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

God, this man. This stoic, grumpy, secretly soft man. He didn’t need grand speeches or elaborate gifts.

Just a sticky note. And a heart full of quiet devotion.

Another note was tucked under the TV remote:

“You’re getting close. Don’t stop now.”

You followed the trail into the kitchen, where he’d arranged another trio of notes across the fridge like magnets.

“Today marks one year since you said ‘I love you’ first.”

“It took me a week to believe you meant it.”

“I’ve never stopped thanking the universe that you did.”

You pressed your hand over your mouth, blinking quickly.

The anniversary.

You’d forgotten in the rush of life and laundry and late-night case updates.

But Aaron hadn’t.

Of course he hadn’t.

The final note was on the coffee pot, freshly brewed and still steaming.

“Turn around.”

You did—and found him standing in the doorway, tie loosened, sleeves rolled, barefoot and soft-eyed in the morning light.

“Aaron…” you started, overwhelmed and already a little teary, “You did all this just for—?”

He crossed the room in two quiet steps, hands gently cupping your face. “I love you,” he said simply. “I know I say it every day. But I wanted to show it. In the way you’ve taught me to.”

You leaned into him, laughing against his chest. “You hopeless, romantic sap.”

“I’m learning from the best.”

He kissed you then—slow and smiling and home. The kind of kiss that tasted like promises and coffee and the comfort of forever.

When he pulled back, he slipped something into your hand.

Another sticky note.

“P.S. Check the pantry.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Another surprise?”

“Go look.”

You padded over to the pantry and opened the door.

There, resting on a shelf between the cereal boxes and oatmeal canisters, was a small white gift box.

You turned to raise an eyebrow at him. He just leaned on the counter, arms crossed, watching you with that warm, unreadable half-smile.

Inside the box was a key.

You frowned slightly, confused. “This… looks like our front door key.”

He nodded. “It is.”

“But I already live here.”

He stepped forward and pulled you close, brushing your damp hair behind your ear.

“It’s symbolic,” he murmured. “You moved in. You made this house a home. And I just… I wanted to make sure you knew it’s yours in every way. You belong here. With me. Always.”

You stared at him, eyes glassy, breath caught. “Aaron…”

“I love you,” he repeated. “Every day. In every quiet way I can.”

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tightly, one hand stroking down your back, the other wrapped around your waist like he never planned to let go.

You stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in warmth and sunlight and everything unspoken.

Eventually, when you pulled back, you looked up with a mischievous grin. “Okay, but now I have to top this.”

He chuckled. “You don’t.”

“I do. You’ve set the bar ridiculously high. I might need, like… glitter. Or a marching band.”

“Please don’t bring glitter into this house,” he deadpanned, but his smile betrayed him.

You kissed him again—soft, slow, sweet.

Then you whispered against his lips:

“Stick with me, Hotchner.”

And he whispered back,

“Always.”

[satxnsupreme666]

Love in the darkest hour: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Masterlist

Requested by: @perfectartisanwerewolf

Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.

Warnings: Reader gets hurt, mention of wounds, broken bones, angst and fluff,  I think that´s it (Oh, and English is not my first language but I still try hard to check my own grammar)

Word count:  6k+

Author’s notes: In this story Alice does not die.

Hello, this was a requested story, and I wanted to write it before posting the final old stories I wrote three years ago, sorry that I took three days to write this and that is not longer, but I will be honest, I divide my time between doing nothing at all or doing everything at the same time (that means writing, reading, listening to some music, playing something, watching a movie etc.)

I hope this is what you were waiting for @perfectartisanwerewolf ♥️

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance

“We’re ok” Agatha announced after all of you had had to fly away from the Salem seven, it had been close, really close, all of you really needed to be more careful, you still were worried about those entities trying to get Agatha, she had told you that you didn’t need to worry about, but still, you didn’t want that something happened to Agatha.

“No, we’re not, the entire Halloween aisle’s outside waiting for us” Maybe Jenn was right, could they be really outside?

“Well it doesn’t look like they can get in, does it? All we have to do is complete the trial and continue on before they can get us” Her sentence seemed to calm everyone a little bit, Jenn seemed to relax a little.

“My spell book, I can’t find it!” The teen started to look inside his little bag.

“Where’d you have it last time?” Lilia tried to reason with him so he could think clearly.

“Flying on a broom” The teen sounded sad, so you went towards him and put your hand on his shoulder, you felt bad for him, you wanted to reassure him somehow.

“Forget about it, you can take the training wheels off” The older witch said to him still standing in front of the door.

The teen looked at you and Lilia with a sad expression.

“Hey it’s alright, Agatha’s right, you don’t need it, all of those spells that were on your notebook are also there inside your head, you know all of them, so don’t worry alright?” He seemed to understand because he quickly smiled at you and nodded.

Agatha saw the interaction with a smile on her face, she loved how you were be able to make everyone feel better; you knew how to cheer someone up, you could not only heal physical wounds, but also wounds that were not visible and that only hurt people emotionally.

You sensed someone watching you and turned to look at the direction where you sensed the gaze on you, Agatha was looking at you from her place, she was staring at you with so much love, she winked at you and smiled back at her.

“Look at you!” The teen suddenly said to you, you looked back at him and then at your clothes, noticing the style of the clothes that you were wearing, it was kind of like the ones in the slasher movies you liked to watch.

Looking back at the teen in front of you, you noticed his shirt and shorts as well, glancing back at the other witches you realized they were wearing the same clothing style, same thing that had happened during the last trials, you still wondered when would be your trial and what theme would it be, would it have a creepy vibe? With maybe a haunted house? Or maybe an abandoned house in the middle of a forest? A hill? You were excited to find out.

“You look like one of the teens from those eighties and nineties slasher movies” You had to tell him, if not you knew the idea would never leave your mind.

He took a glance at his clothes and then at the surroundings, he could not deny that you were right, all of you looked like one the main characters of a slasher movie set in the 80’s or 90’s, he remembered something so suddenly that he had to take you by your shoulders, you giggled before he even had the chance to say what had crossed his mind.

“Oh my god, y/n I have the perfect playlist for this!” You grinned and saw how he moved his hands to his sides, as if he was trying to find something, he pursed his lips and looked back at you.

“Right, I forgot, I don’t have my phone either” He sounded a little bit annoyed but smiled at the end anyway.

“You don’t even have pockets remember” you were right, he should have remembered that first.

Rio had heard your comment about the slasher movies and turned herself to look at him, she smirked and walked closer to the two of you.

When she saw you from behind, she noticed that you were wearing clothes that were similar to hers and her eyes looked you up and down, when she got closer to you, she passed her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her, you instinctively rested your head against her chest.

The teen noticed the smirk on Rio’s face which only made him squirm, Rio scared him, her deadly stare made him grimace.

“Hey, she is right, you do look like a character in a slasher movie from the 80’s, you would be the first character to die at the start of the movie” She said to him while staring without blinking and on top of that, the smirk had never disappeared from her face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her comment, slightly you patted her chest, the teen swallowed hard and blinked several times trying to laugh awkwardly.

“That is not something nice to say Vidal, don’t mess with him, you scare him” You said to her with a pout on your face.

“She does not scare me” The teen replied back, but Rio turned her head hastily at him and bit into the air, as if she was warning him that she could bite him, the teen jumped slightly.

“Maybe just a little” The dark-haired boy commented being wary of Rio.

“Don’t mind her” Was what you said to him while looking at him with a smile on your face.

“I think you would be one of the final boys that make it to the end of the movie” The boy in front of you seemed to think about it and nodded, he seemed convinced that he would actually be a final girl, and you didn’t doubt it, he smiled fondly at you, and Rio started to caress your back.

“Who would you think I’ would be in a slasher movie set on the 80’s sweetheart?” Rio asked you rising her right eyebrow.

You brought your hand to your chin and acted as if you were in deep thought, but of course, you already had your answer.

“You would be the killer, the killer everyone suspects but cannot actually prove it” You said out lout and the teen gasped.

“She is right, you would be the killer” You had not noticed that the other witches had walked towards you, they were already near you and were looking at you with small smiles on their faces.

Even if they did not trust Agatha at all, and were a little bit scared of Rio because of her antics, they find you really adorable.

In their minds they still could not comprehend how someone as sweet as you, who only used magic to heal people, was with the other two witches.

They still did not understand what a healing witch whose magic was as pure as the meaning of white lilies was doing with Agatha Harkness, former user of the darkhold and with Rio, the witch who did not care about anything and seemed to be so scary, the same woman who agreed on being a “psycho” with a big smile on her face.

Even if they did not comprehend it at all, they could see the way the two witches acted around you, and the way they treated you, they were soft with you, you were the only one that could see and had the privilege to see that side of them, you felt really lucky.

Rio turned her head back at the teen and tilted her head slightly.

“If I was the killer, you would be my first victim, you would not even make it to the second act” Your girlfriend said as if she was just saying facts.

“That is not right Rio, I am pretty sure he would be one of the few that actually makes it to the end” Rio cackled and you tilted your head to give her a disapproving look.

“Ah, fine, he would make it to the end” This deep down made the teen jump internally, it made him feel excited that she had admitted that.

Rio gave you a playful pat on your shoulder.

“Let me look for Agatha, we don’t want her to cause more trouble do we?” She winked at you and left your side.

Alice then came to stand next to the teen, with a curious look on her face.

“Who would I be in a slasher movie?” She inquired looking excited to know your answer.

Examining her carefully you came to the only conclusion that seemed accurate for Alice.

“I think you would be the main character, the protagonist who is tortured and stalked by the killer, because she was the only one who escaped, you would be one of the original final girls, the final girl who fights back, like Laurie Strode on Halloween” Her eyebrows were risen and nodded her head in understanding.

“Yeah, she is totally right, you would be a total badass” The teen agreed with you. Alice beamed with happiness and pressed her hands together.

“You heard that?” Alice asked glancing at Jenn and Lilia.

“I am not really a fan of horror movies, so I really don’t know what you are talking about” Explained Jenn and Lilia nodded her head in a way of showing she felt the same.

Smiling at them you started to explain everything “It’s fine, basically, the horror or slasher movies tend to have a series of “rules” that characterize them, one thing for the slasher movies is for example, that there is a killer-“

“Sometimes there are two killers” The teen quickly said.

“Or sometime yes there are two killers, who usually start their murder spree killing different characters, and the final girl is the character who makes it to the end of the movie and defeats the villain” You finished your explanation.

“Who do you think Agatha would be?” The teen inquired.

“I would say that because of her personality traits she would be the killer that no one suspects of, I mean she is smart, charming” The four of them nodded in agreement.

“And who would you be?” The boy asked you again.

“I would be the character who dies at the start” You simply said, and they all started to discuss that in fact that would not be true.

“I think you would be the character that everyone is attached to, like the character who is friends with everyone and who also everyone tries to protect, you know? also I can see how you would be close to the final girl and you would get extra protection” The teen said and put a finger on his chin, looking at you, analyzing you, you only smiled at him and shook your head.

“Is this how people really looked at the time? I mean, the clothing style, the vibe, all of it?” You wondered out loud and jumped when you felt someone hugging you from behind, you felt the arms of Rio pulling you closer to her.

“Yes, people actually dressed up like this” Agatha said behind you, and all of you turned to look at her, she had kind of a disheveled look, he hair up in a ponytail and the oversized purple shirt fitted her amazingly.

“Whose trial is this?” Asked the teen while looking up at the ceiling.

Rio looked at the window in front of you and you did the same thing, the blood moon could be perfectly seen since your position.

“Agatha’s” answered the witch holding you from behind, you were a little bit worried, so you turned your head to look at Agatha, she saw your worried expression and gave you a reassuring smile, it was a tad scary for her, but with you and Rio there by her side, she knew the trial would be easily passed, or at least, that’s what she hoped.

Hearing Lilia’s explanation about the blood money and the believe of a misconception she mentioned, everyone turned around to look at their beeping watches in their wrists.

“The road wants us to Ouija” The teen showed all of you the board, and everyone started to gather closer, then he proceeded to read the rules.

“Number two, do not speak over each other” And all the witches began to speak over each other, clearly not realizing what they were doing.

Rio and you heard clearly when Agatha demanded to be shown the rules to see if it actually said that and you couldn’t help but share an amused look with her,

Rio shook her head smiling and sticking her tongue out a little, you tried to hide your laugh but you couldn’t, Agatha realized who was laughing and she looked at you, you were next to her left and Rio was next to you.

“What?” Agatha asked with feigned innocence, and you just shrugged your shoulders.

“What is so funny doll?” Agatha asked again and came closer to you to caress your hair, you unconsciously leant into her touch, and let her guide you to rest your head on her chest.

“I love the way you look in those clothes” She commented dangerously close to your ear witch a husky voice.

“Not the time for that” You replied amused, you had to focus on passing the trial.

“Shall we start?” Agatha seemed to tense and you saw the way she started to swallow, it was obvious that she was nervous, the teen sat on the floor and the other witches started to do the same forming a circle.

“Hey, are you alright?” You asked her while she squeezed your hands, you felt the way she pulled you closer to her, and you happily leant into her touch.

“I will be alright, don’t worry” She said to you in a whisper.

“Rio and I are here for you, you know?” You replied back at her and she nodded with a smile in her face.

“I know, thank you, I love you so much” Agatha said near your ear and she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get started” She said, you did not notice the way Agatha nodded at Rio, Rio understood and Agatha took your hand one more time to hand you to Rio, Agatha gave you one last squeeze and Rio took your hand in hers, the brown-eyed woman smiled reassuringly at Agatha and put her arm around your waist, she pushed you slightly and placed you next to her right, while Agatha sat next to you as well, leaving you in the middle of the two of them.

Everyone on the room put their hands on the board and waited for Agatha to start, when her hands got separated from the board you really got scared and quickly turned your head to look at Rio, she saw your worried expression and quickly mouthed a “Don´t worry” and smiled slightly at you.

“She´s scared” Commented Rio while you sighed in relief, for a moment you had thought your girlfriend had been possessed, Rio then patted the sit ordering Agatha to come and sit again.

“Do not do that, it was funny, but you got her scared” Rio said to Agatha and nodding towards you, while the blue-eyed woman sat back next to you and she gave you a shy smile.

“Sorry love, I thought it was funny” The older witch commented with an apologetical look.

Sighing you just shook your head and slightly bumped your shoulders against her.

“It alright, I just do not want anything to happen to you” Rio then looked back at her and nodded, she felt the same even if she found her little joke funny.

“Alright” The blue-eyed woman proceeded to place her hands on the board and everyone did the same, you were not going to lie, feeling the board moving so hard and faster made your heart beat in fear, you never had played it and it actually made you feel scared, but you knew you had to do it in order to pass the trial.

“Punish Agatha” Was what the board said and you quickly felt yourself getting tense, but before someone could actually understand what was happening you heard Agatha yelling at everyone to stop it and you were not sure what or how it happened but Agatha got her hands off the board and you panicked.

The scream that was all over the place, was so loud and it pierced you ears.

You saw her getting to the floor and she covered her ears just as everyone else did, but you were still worried of what could happen to your girlfriend since it was her trial, so you uncovered you ears not caring if the loud sound made your ears hurt and went to kneel next to Agatha to check if she was fine and did not have any type of physical wounds.

Agatha noticed your face contorted in pain, but her heart melted when she realized you were checking her to make sure she was not hurt, out of instinct she uncover her ears and made sure your ears were covered using her own hands, even in the middle of the chaos she still managed to show you how much she cared for you.

You were so lost in her eyes that you did not even notice when things calmed down, the scream could not be heard anymore and the things flying around the room were already scattered all over the floor.

“Is it over?” Your eyes stared to examine the room and the witches around you, getting closer and closer, what happened?

“Sorry y/n, but it seems like in order to pass this trial we have to punish Agatha” Jenn was looking right at Agatha, her gaze not darting somewhere else.

“There has to be another way” The teen said out loud and you agreed with him.

“Wait no! You cannot just decide that you are going to hurt her” You said to the three witches in front of you, your pleading eyes started to get glossy, they could not actually think that this was their way out right? Even if the ghost or whatever was wanted that, there had to be another way.

The teen looked horrified about what could happen, it was clearly they were not thinking clearly and with Rio walking faster towards the two of you, he panicked as well.

“I am sorry but you have to move” Jenn said with what you thought maybe, just maybe was guilty.

Alice was unsure, they were not actually going to do something to Agatha right? She looked at Lilia who had the same unsure look on her face.

Your pleading eyes with tears about to be shed made them feel unsure on what to do, they knew that you loved her and you would not be able to do anything to her, but what if that was what the ghost wanted them to do?

Before they got the time to get closer to you Rio appeared in front of the two of you and got her knife out of wherever she hid it, you were always amazed because whenever you saw her getting something out of her pockets or her clothes, you never really understood where she hid all of the things she carried with her.

“No one is touching Agatha, nor y/n” She said with a firm tone.

Agatha caressed your back and nodded at you, she gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand.

“It´s alright, don´t worry, nothing is going to happen to me, ok” She pressed her forehead against you and you nodded, Agatha then stood up and came up behind Rio.

“Listen, we can talk about it and see what other options we have, let´s not get wild” She said trying to be reasonable, but then a sound was heard from your spot, and everyone turned to where the sound had come from.

“Where is she?” The teen asked with his eyes wide open, the witches started to turn themselves around looking for you.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?” Agatha asked out loud, and everyone started to move to different directions trying to see if they could catch a glimpse of where were you.

“We have to find her! She was right there and the next second she was not, how is that even possible?”  Your girlfriend Agatha started to panic, it was something weird when it came to her, being panicked was not a state she was used to, but when it come to you or Rio, she could not help but worry more than anything.

“Hey, look at me, we are going to find her, she could not have gotten too far” Rio reassured her and Agatha nodded, she was right, you could not have gotten too far.

They all gasped in unison when the lights went out.

“Hey, we were not going to actually hurt your girlfriend Agatha, just come out wherever you are” The potions which announced while she examined the room.

The teen started to look for something that they could use to get some light, and when he found a lamp, he looked pleased, now it would be easier to look for you.

“Hey, does anyone hear that” Lilia inquired and the teen felt something that had touched his shoulder, he visibly tensed and pointed the lamp towards the ceiling.

The scream that came after seeing you was inevitable, the other witches looked up as well and started to scream as well.

“Oh my god, what happened to her?” Jenn screamed and walked back until she hit one of the walls.

“Agatha get her out of the ceiling!” Alice yelled at her.

“I would if I had my powers!” Agatha yelled back; her face was full of worry.

“She is going to get hurt” Lillia declared while covering her mouth with her hand.

What they were not waiting, was that you jumped from the ceiling, landing with a hard thud against the floor.

“Is she hurt? Someone please check her!” Alice yelled again

“She is not y/n” The teen screamed when suddenly your body got up from the fall and started to contort your body, he squirmed and crawled back to try to protect himself from what he was seeing in front him.

“She is possessed for real” The teen was horrified, the look you had on your face was clearly not something he was expecting, he just hoped that neither of you would get hurt.

“Someone needs to grab her!” Someone in the back yelled, but due to everyone screaming the teen did not even recognize whose voice it was.

“No! wait, she could get hurt! No one is touching her!” Rio glanced menacingly.

“Then how can we help her?!” Agatha asked desperately, she came to place herself next to Rio, the two of them wanted to actually try and do something, maybe catch you and bring you to the center, but the way your body was contorting made them afraid that they could hurt you more.

“Oh my god guys, why are her bones sounding like that?” The teen screamed out of fear at the sound of your cracking bones, you were getting too close to him when suddenly your body for some seconds went limp and crashed against the floor, they were going to go and help you but after only some seconds your body stood up again crashing against the wall, Lilia was quick to get the power back and in a blink of an eye, you disappear again.

“Where is she? Where is she?” Rio looked several times around the room trying to see if you were again on the ceiling.

Before the withes could have more time to look for you, they saw something that looked like white fog forming in front of the stairs.

“That is a ghost, I hate ghosts” Rio said completely angered, Agatha was next to her looking at it with her brows furrowed, where had you gone?

What Agatha saw next made her gasp; her mother had materialized in front of them.

“Mother?” Agatha asked not believing what her eyes were watching.

A sound caught their attention and they looked up to see what was going upstairs, there you were, Agatha sighed in relief but after the worry could be gone, it took over her again, you were trying to stand up, grabbing your left arm with your right hand, you were crying, your sobs were loud enough for them to hear.

“What did you do to her?” Rio asked angrily taking a step forward, and Agatha did the same.

“You have to keep walking the witches´ road without her” The ghost of Evanora Harkness said to them.

Everyone gasped in shock.

“No way, we are not leaving her with you, she comes with us” Agatha said with a firm tone, never hesitating.

“Leave this girl with me, then you will be free to go” The ghost replied.

Lilia, Alice, Jenn and the teen looked at each other, they were not going to leave you there with her, and if they also needed to fight a ghost even if they did not how, they would do it.

“Taking one of the people I love the most?” Agatha laughed bitterly at the thought.

“There is no way we are leaving her with you!” Rio replied back at the ghost with a threatening tone in her voice.

“We are not letting her stay with her, you hear me? She is going to leave with us Agatha” Rio assured the blue-eyed woman.

“It is your time to pay for what you have done, you were born evil, you should not have a chance at love, I repeat, leave her with me, and you can go” Agatha clenched her jaw, Rio who was next to her was fuming, even if they wanted to do something, what could they do against a ghost?

You were crying, your whole body in pain, you were sure you were going to have bruises, you could not even lift your arm and you wondered if maybe it had been broken.

You heard everything Evanora said to her, that she was evil, but that was not true, Agatha was not evil, she was a misunderstood witch who did not have anyone to back her up and show her to control her powers, and even if you were in pain you would let your girlfriend know that her mother was not right.

“Do not listen to her Agatha, we know you are not evil, you are worthy of love” You managed to say between sobs, Agatha did not have time to answer to you, because her mother spoke again.

“I will not repeat myself” The ghost announced.

Agatha could not help the tears falling from her face, it was all her fault you were in pain, her own fault that you had been possessed by her mother, she was being punished for al the things she had done in the past, seeing you in so much pain was breaking he heart, Rio was so mad, it infuriated her seeing you and Agatha both in pain.

Before they could do something else, the ghost disappeared and they watch the way your body started to contort again, you came crawling down the stairs, the witches watched in horror.

“Leave her alone” The witch with the red strands on her hair pushed the teen, Agatha and Rio to the side, all of them saw Alice throwing her powers at you.

“Don´t hurt her!” Agatha shouted ready to go and push Alice away from you, but the teen and Rio stopped her, and watched they way your body return to your normal form, the paleness leaving your skin, and the white fog dissipated.

After some minutes Alice stopped, and you felt to the floor with a loud thud, you quickly started to groan in pain, trying to get up from the floor.

Agatha and Rio ran towards you to help you stand up.

“It hurts so much” You said to them still crying, Agatha could not take in how much pain you were, she did not want to hurt you more, but they needed to check your body.

“I know sweetheart, we know it hurt but we have to touch you to check your body alright?” Rio whispered to you in a reassuring way, it pained her too much too see you suffering.

They tried to help you stand up, but the pain in your body was too much, Agatha could see the bruises forming on your legs and on your arms, and seeing the way your arm had taken a really weird position, she knew it was broken.

“Baby, can you tell us where it hurts?” You heard Rio asking you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky.

“My arm, is what hurts the most” Yous said between sobs, you wanted the pain to stop, but you knew that even healing yourself was going to hurt a lot.

“I think… I think I can try to heal it but, but I am scared, it is going to hurt so much” Agatha turned her head to look at Rio, she closed her eyes, your sobs made her so hard to maintain a hard façade as always.

“Listen, we are here with you, we are not letting you go, you can take my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, alright?” Agatha said before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Rio placed herself next to Agatha, the blue-eyed woman placed you on her lap, and Rio put her hands on your back, caressing you up and down.

The witches standing in front of you, could not also take the sight, the teen had to look away, he could not stand seeing you crying from pain, and the way your arm was positioned, made him feel uneasy.

Lilia was holding Alice´s hand, watching with glossy eyes, they could not believe that you were the one that had got hurt, Jenn wanted to do something to help you ease the pain, but nothing came to her mind.

 You clung to Agatha´s shirt, and focused hard on the pain you were feeling, Rio never stopped running her hands up and down on your back, trying to soothe you and waiting the pain would stop.

“Everything will be alright, you are going to be fine, we love you so much” Agatha said into your ear, you were trembling and she hated so much that she could not anything.

After several minutes of sobbing harder, you felt you arm getting back to its normal position, your magic had worked, the powers accommodating the bones, putting them in their normal place, Agatha was caressing your legs with her free hands and noticed the bruises disappearing.

With one final breath, you felt yourself relaxing, the pain going away completely, and when Agatha and Rio were sure you were not hurting anymore, a door opened, all of you looked at it.

“We passed the trial” The teen said out loud, they were relieved you had stopped crying, but felt immensely guilty for not have been able to do anything to help you somehow.

 “We have to go sweetheart” She squeezed your shoulders lovingly, and the two of your grilfriends helped you to stand up.

Agatha quickly pulled you closer to her, her left hand on your waist, Rio put her hand on your shoulders, afraid of letting you walk alone.

They started to walk towards the door to get ready to leave and go back to the road.

“Alice” Agatha called for her when she started to walk in front of you, she turned quickly to look at you and to the other two witches in front of her.

“Thank you, for saving her” Agatha said with a soft look on her face, it was sincere, Agatha sounded sincere for the first time since the have arrived at the road, and smiled at her.

“It is alright, you do not have to thank me, I really wish I had done more” Alice gave the three of you an apologetically smile.

“You saved me” You replied at her.

“It was more than enough, Alice” Agatha let her know, Rio gave her a nod and the shorter witch smiled, it was a big smile, she turned herself around and started to walk back towards the door.

The three of you were the last standing in the room right in front of the door that would take you back to the road.

Agatha made you stop and you looked at her, with a frown on your face.

“Listen, I, I am sorry, it was my fault, because of me, because of what I have done in the past, you got hurt, and, none of us could do something to actually help you, I feel so-“ You abruptly interrupted her.

“Don´t blame yourself please, it was not your fault, please stop blaming yourself” You wiped her tears out of her face before talking again.

“I would never blame you for anything, I am fine, we are fine, we passed the trial, I am happy nothing happened to you” Before you could continue speaking, you felt her arm wrapping you in a hug, she passed her arms around your waist and you heard her cry, she loved you with her entire heart, and she could not stop blaming herself, what if something worse had happened to you?

Rio went to place herself next to Agatha and started to caress her back before looking at you.

“Hey, it´s alright, I would never, really never, let anyone hurt any of you, I would break the rules for you, so you can rest assure Agatha, that I won´t let anything else happen to her, alright?” Rio knew what to say, because you felt Agatha getting relaxed and she sighed.

“We are going to keep an eye on you, we are going to make sure noting else happens to you, we swear” Agatha commented while looking into your eyes, and Rio nodded quickly.

Smiling at them, the three of you started to walk again, ready to face whatever would be next, Agatha and Rio let you in first, and it made you laugh, you were not sure what was going to happen, or if something really worst was waiting for you outside, but what you were sure, was that with the two of your girlfriends taking care of you, you would be fine, and that was alright, you knew that if anything happened, Rio and Agatha would be there for you, ready to fight against anything that would even just threaten you, so you smiled pulled yourself closer to them when you stepped outside of that place, Agatha came next to you and again she pressed her hand on your waist, and Rio put her hand on your shoulder, they started to guide you to the group that was waiting for you in the middle of the road, and you smiled, you were going to be alright, no matter what.

When you got closer to the group, they heard the leaves been stepped on by someone and they quickly turned their head to look at you, they all had smiles on their faces.

You saw the way the teen turned his body completely towards you and he opened his arms, the closer you got the more you noticed his puffy eyes, when you arrived in front of him, you quickly opened your arms as well and let him engulf you in a hug.

“Thank god you are fine” He said while the two of you slightly swung due to the teen moving to the sides, you giggled and separated yourself to look at him.

“I am fine because Alice saved me” You replied to him and realized all of the witches had come closer and were standing really close to you and the teen hugging you.

You looked to your left to see Alice wiping quickly one tear that was running down her face, and tried to act as if she did not want to cry, she quickly cleared her throat and saw how Lilia and Jenn were smiling at her, Lilia put her hand on Alice´s shoulder and caressed it lovingly.

You chuckled and walked closer to Alice until you were standing next to her, she looked up from the floor to look at you and she shrugged her shoulders.

“No big deal, it was what anyone else would have done, so we´re cool-“ Before she could continue talking you hugged her, your arms around her shoulders.

“Thank you so much Alice, you really are a protection witch, please never doubt that, you are amazing” Your words had touched her heart and she hugged you more, she nodded and when you looked back at her face you noticed she had left the tears ran freely down her face.

“Thank you y/n” Alice replied back at you.

“I am sorry I, I just let you there, in pain, I, I should have done something else, try to look for something to ease the pain but-“ You quickly took Jenn´s hands on yours, you knew she was not really keen on physical contact so you tried to respect that about her.

“It´s alright, you don´t have to be sorry, it was something that was out of your hands, I am grateful that you were able to save him and stop the bleeding, and that´s more than enough, thank you about that, we did not have the time to thank you for that” You said to her smiling, Jenn nodded and caressed the back of your hand.

“Can I get a hug? Everyone seems to love your hugs, I wonder what is so special about them” You nodded laughing and got yourself close to her to hug her, she always smelled amazingly, her perfume seemed to never actually leave her.

“Oh darling, I am so happy you are fine, I cannot imagine what Agatha and Rio would have ended up doing if something happened to you” Lilia pulled you closer to her after you separated yourself from Jenn, and you let her hug you while caressing your back, Lilia then took your hands in hers, and looked straight into your eyes.

“You are so important to everyone, do not ever let yourself think you do not matter alright?” She said to you with a firm tone, yet it was soft at the same time, you could only nod and your eyes filled with tears.

Agatha and Rio looked at the scene in front of them, and Agatha could only think that no one was going to let you get hurt, if for any reason Rio and her were not able to actually protect you, they knew they still had a coven that would do anything to try and protect you as well.

“It looks that you will have to start being kinder to them” Rio said to her with a smirk but she actually meant it.

“Shut up” Agatha said while pushing her slightly in a playful way.

“But you are right, we are a coven after all” Agatha commented while the two of them got close to you and placed each one of them to your sides, both of their hands on your waist.

“We still have to keep on walking, let´s go” Agatha caressed your back again, and while everyone nodded and continued to walk, you couldn’t help the smile on your face from getting bigger, maybe this would be the time for Agatha to start trusting in others, apart from only trusting in you and Rio, but you would still have a lot of time In which you would be able to help Agatha with that, right now, you still had a road to face, and you had never felt so safe and ready to face whatever that would appear.

After all, you had your girlfriends to take care of you, and a whole coven that now, looked after each other.

[daycourtofficial]

And if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you

Pairing: Cassian x reader | WC: 1.7k | warnings: none

Summary: after spending your birthday forgotten by your best friend, you try to grapple with the fact that his affections definitely lie outside of you

Author’s note: happy (early) birthday @sarawritestories 🥳🥳 this was fun and I hope you have a great birthday, try not to get overloaded with fics!!

You closed your eyes, wanting to drown out the noise of the clock that kept ticking, every chime from it another punch to the gut. It was a quiet evening, the only noise was the wind howling outside. You looked down at the lone cupcake on your coffee table, the unlit candle nestled within the frosting.

You sighed, looking from the clock to the door once more, the clock reading that it was a new day. Your birthday was over and your best friend blew you off. You sighed, lighting the candle by yourself, looking into the flame before blowing it out, a wish in your thoughts.

You had been contemplating the wish since last week when Cassian had brought it up. Every year, you make some variation of the same wish - that Cassian would fall in love with you, that he was your mate, that he would declare his undying love for you.

This year had to be different. You had to be different. You blink back your tears, inhaling a breath, letting your thoughts go somewhere before exhaling, the breath extinguishing the flame.

I wish Cassian would see what he’s missing.

-

You woke the next day, sluggishly preparing for work before opening your door to find a bouquet and a white box on your welcome mat. You brought the bouquet in, smelling them as you plucked the card from the top of them.

Sorry I missed your birthday, hope you had fun anyway. Azriel.

You brought the flowers and the box of pastries inside, opening the lid to find your favorite doughnuts and turnovers. Cassian may have sucked, but his brothers were incredibly thoughtful. You knew Azriel had been away on a mission all week, and a part of you wished your heart yearned for the shadowsinger instead of Cassian.

At least Azriel wouldn’t ditch you for Cauldron knows what.

You sighed out of your nose. You were three hundred and fifty two, for Mother’s sake. Cassian was a stupid male. A beautiful one, but a stupid one. If he forgot your plans, you can respond maturely by forgetting him.

An easier said than done plan when the next time you saw him later that afternoon, he made an immediate beeline towards you, a massive smile on his face as he maneuvered through the crowded streets of Velaris.

“Hey, doll.”

You kept walking, determined to make it through the streets of Velaris without paying him any heed, except Cassian doesn’t quite get what you’re not saying.

“How are ya, buttercup? Haven’t seen you for a few days, you okay?”

He had to be joking. Was he really this obtuse?

“Fine.”

His smile faltered at your clipped tone, and he rushed to keep up with you as you slipped through the crowd.

His massive body kept bumping into random patrons, his wings nearly toppling over an entire table in his attempts at keeping up with you.

“Yesterday, Nes and I found this-“

“You were with Nesta yesterday?”

You stopped in your tracks and whipped your head around so quickly Cassian backsteps. You felt your eye twitch at Cassian’s revelation, but he seemed unfazed, albeit a bit confused.

“Uh, yeah. Is something wrong?”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep in your tears. You started counting your breaths, checking your bags, ensuring you have everything you came with. “It’s fine, Cass. I have to- I gotta go. I’m late.”

You spat your words out before looking down at the ground, missing the way his face softened at your words.

“Sweetheart, wait-“

Despite Cassian’s protests, you slipped through the crowd and you could hear his heavy steps follow after you, but once you were far enough from the crowd, you winnow away, leaving Cassian alone and confused on the streets of Velaris.

You landed in your apartment, your knees hitting the floor as you fell apart completely. You could handle a half assed excuse, but the fact he had no idea he blew you off for Nesta?

You were indifferent about Nesta - she was a force to be reckoned with, she stood up for herself, and she took shit from no one. You would even like her if it weren’t for Cassian.

You could understand why Cassian would be obsessed with her, why his eyes have hardly left her since she showed up into your lives months ago.

But it didn’t lessen the punch to the gut you felt every time you had to be subjected to it.

You decided to avoid Cassian and everyone else for several days, opting instead to stay home and try to figure out just how to move on, preferring some space to sort out your feelings.

Four days after your birthday, around midnight, loud incessant knocking woke you in the middle of the night. The soft pitter patter of rain had lulled you to sleep a few hours prior, but now a raging storm was going on outside, the harsh rain colliding with your window.

The knocking started again and you crossed your house trying to figure out who would be at your door at this hour.

“Sweetheart?”

Cassian’s voice stopped you cold in your tracks a few feet away from the door.

“Sweetheart, open the damn door before I kick it in.”

You knew he would too, which was exactly why you decided to open the door with no warning, causing him to stare as he saw you.

He was drenched. It was raining so hard outside, the water poured down his face, soaking his clothes entirely, his hair undone around his shoulders. He was breathing hard, and he likely took a hard and turbulent flight to get here.

The rain bounced off his wings, his hair was limp from the water, the trellises of hair curling at the ends. He looked devastatingly handsome on your doorstep.

He looked like a marble statue of a long forgotten god.

“Sweetheart I- can I come in?”

“No.” You shouted over the rain, and you were not sure why you’re being so petty. Does he really deserve this treatment for what - falling in love with someone who wasn’t you?

Yes, you decided, he does. Because you weren’t being petty about him being in love with Nesta, you were upset about him forgetting your birthday and blowing you off, not even a half assed apology from him.

“No?”

“No. Whatever you have to say, you can say it from there.”

You pointed at the doorstep. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to clear the water from it but the action did very little to help. His smile was blinding as he laughed, but you saw a mixture of sorrow, annoyance, and amusement all dance across his face.

“I’m sorry I forgot your birthday.”

You wanted to slam the door in his face, wanted to lock him outside in the rain forever. But you couldn’t.

He was your Cassian.

And his foot was in the doorway, a precaution he took the moment you opened your door.

Bastard.

“Ever since I got back from the continent I haven’t been keeping track of my days well. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t- nothing would be more important.”

You scoff, “are you sure about that? Not even fucking Nesta is more important?”

He took a step back, shocked at your words, and you take the moment to try to shut the door, but his hand stops you.

“Nesta? What does she have to do with this?”

“What do you mean what does she have to do with this? Don’t be an idiot, Cass.”

He barked back at you, “I’m not being an idiot, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

The two of you were now shouting to be heard over the rain, and you opened your door wide, moving towards him. The rain started falling on you, your doorstep not having an awning to protect you from the weather.

The rain soaked your nightgown, making it cling to you like a second skin, but your anger was making you so hot that you didn't even notice.

“You are being an idiot! Because I’m in love with you! And you’re in love with her! And you forgot me on my birthday!”

You pushed his shoulders, annoyance seeping from every pore. His face quirks in confusion, but he squared his shoulders, puffing out his chest to you.

“No, you’re the one being an idiot because I’m in love with you!”

Your heart stopped, but you weren’t sure if you heard him right. You stood up taller, getting in his face. “Oh yeah? Well, if you’re in love with me, why were you fucking Nesta on my birthday?”

He towered over you, his dark brown eyes looking into yours, his thick eyebrows drawn together.

“Fucking Nesta? Nesta was helping me plan things for your birthday. I knew I couldn’t ask Rhysand because he can’t keep secrets from you, Azriel’s been hard to catch the past few weeks, so I asked Nesta to help me pick out some jewelry for you!”

Your chest heaved, throat burning from yelling.

“So you love me?”

A crackle of thunder could be heard, causing you to flinch slightly. Cassian’s hands reached your arms, and it’s then that the chill of the rain started to seep into your bones.

“Of course I do! You’re the nicest, most beautiful, most caring female I’ve ever met!”

His words were lovely, but he was still shouting at you, a juxtaposition if you’ve ever seen one.

You scoffed, and you watched as it made him angrier. “Of course I fucking love you, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, because Nesta’s hot?”

He threw his hands up in the air, running his hands down his face. “I thought you’d never want me. Nesta was helping me get the courage to tell you how I felt! She kept threatening me that she would do it if I didn’t and I suck with words, but gods damnit-“

His words cut off there as his hands roughly grabbed your face, pulling you into him. The kiss was magical, and your hands grabbed his shoulders to pull him in closer.

Despite the rain, he was so warm. The water cascaded down both of your faces, making it a little hard to breathe, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

He was the perfect mix of rough and gentle, the feeling of his hands and lips was so Cassian you wanted to laugh and scream. He was both so familiar and so new all at once, it was everything you ever thought he would be.

Your lungs eventually pulled you back, desperately clawing for air. The two of you looked at each other, Cassian’s thumb swiping across your jaw, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Can I come in now?”

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[ssvnriseya]

KEEP A SECRET (D.D.)

summary - daryl can't seem to get enough of the farmer's daughter, you.

warnings - MDNI 18+ very dark!daryl × innocent!reader, slight obsessive behavior, slight stalker behavior, manipulation, masturbation (m!), loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, baby trapping, age gap (reader is 20, daryl is mid 30's), intended lowercase.

note - OKAY, I'M SPOILING YOU ALL, THIS IS TOO MUCH SMUT?! IT TOOK ME A WEEK TO WRITE THIS, I'M SORRY! I WAS JUST SO BUSY; I COULD'VE FINISHED THIS IN TWO DAYS OR THREE IF I HADN'T BEEN BUSY. daryl's a bit of an asshole and dark at the end.

masterlist

you watched as a boy walked away from your sister, you smiled at him as he passed you.

he tried to smile back but failed immediately, the frown winning him over, he looked down the ground instead.

he walked away, shaking his head and tipping his hat off every now and then in frustration.

your face immediately converted into full worry as you glanced at your sister who seemed to be deep in thought.

you walked over to her slowly, the green grass beneath you falling as you stepped on them quite carefully.

the sky was as blue as it could get and it was a clear sunny day, and you loved it.

the trees danced with the wind softly as the birds living in them seemed to be singing along, chirping.

you smiled at maggie as you approached her. "hey." she greeted you, you beamed at her once again.

"maggie, was that glenn?" you asked in worry and wiggled your eyebrows at her, she shook her head giving you a small smile.

"just a crazy asian with a name." she responded, you nodded and continued looking for eggs at the chicken coops.

"well, i think the only thing about him crazy is about you." you replied back as you bent down to pick up an egg.

"trust me, he doesn't know what he wants, or what he is crazy about." she fought back, determined to make you know.

"i think he's old enough to know what he wants." you tried to defend the boy you hardly knew.

"you done there? how many eggs did nessie lay?" she changed the subject you looked at the chicken you and maggie, along with beth named a year before the apocalypse started.

"she's healthy... she has four babies." you said excited, you looked at maggie through your lashes and she groaned, looking away.

"no! you're not keeping one to raise as a pet!" she immediately shut your thought down even before you said them.

"just one? just one little chick?" you asked and pouted when she shook her head again.

"no." she said, her mind is settled on 'no chickens inside the house, baby or not!'

"but, it's gonna be so cute when it's hatched and grown a bit!" you exclaimed in excitement, imagining the chick running around the house.

"no..." she shook her head and said your full name making you pout, she really wasn't going to change her mind.

"i'll take care of it, feed it, and bathe it." you promised her, even holding your right hand up as a sign.

"and what will you feed it?" she raised an eyebrow at you, continuing to check the coop.

"my bread, i get two pieces every morning, i'll save one for it to eat the whole day." you planned slowly, not entirely sure.

"it's a baby." she pressed on and you nodded in agreement, you smiled at her.

"when you and glenn go on a run... w–will you get me a formula and the thing to feed it with? if you ever came across one, don't risk your life for it, okay?" you rambled to her.

"fine." she finally gave in, making you smile in delight. you beamed at her and hugged her so tight

"thank you, mags!" you kissed her cheeks and she smiled, she really loved making you happy.

"take care of it, okay? don't let it die." she reminded you sternly and you nodded.

"i see how glenn looks at you, maggie... i think he really likes you." you gave her a bright smile and handed her the basket full of eggs.

she didn't reply and checked the coops for more eggs, "no more eggs." she said.

she took the basket from you, "I'll check out the stables, you should go in." you told her sweetly.

she nodded and looked around, then she stopped her gaze before looking away after giving a nod.

you looked around but can't seem to find anyone. "was that glenn?" you asked her, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"no, take care at the stables. scream for help if anything happens." she said, care and worry evident in her voice.

"okay! i'm going to check out nervous nelly, i need to ease her nerves." you tried to joke and maggie rolled her eyes with a smile.

"careful." she warned one last time, you nodded and took a few steps back, waving at her happily.

"bye, maggie!" you shouted when she was far enough. she nodded and finally turned around and started walking to the house.

you turned around and walked to the stables slowly, humming to yourself.

you passed by a campsite rather far than the others, you stopped a bit and analyzed it.

it had squirrels hanging around a line and a tent that was beside a rock structure.

you walked forward, curiosity winning the best of you. your boots stopped outside the tent.

it was closed and you looked towards the house, which was quite far from here.

you heard grunts and moans inside suddenly making you wonder if it was one of your neighbors before the turn.

you kneeled by the soft green grass, your dress covering your knees from the rocks and dirts that may stick to your knees.

"hello?" you asked and waited for a response, then right after there was a string of curses.

then the tent opened, you stood up and took a few steps back for safety.

then a man came out, probably a lot older than you. he then scowled when he saw you.

"are you with mr. grimes?" you asked him politely and walked near him.

he didn't answer so you frowned, was he mute or deaf? you can't tell but you were sure he was very bothered with your presence.

you suddenly felt embarrassed, he was probably sleeping and you woke him up, at least you saved him from his nightmares, right?

"i'm sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked as you were the type of girl who really wants to know everything.

"doesn't matter." he grunted and you smiled, so he wasn't deaf or mute at all!

"i thought you were a walker 'cause you were groaning..." you confessed shyly.

his face turns red and looks away from you, why was he embarrassed? it isn't embarrassing to have nightmares, even you still have nightmares.

"was it nightmares? even though it isn't night anymore..." you asked him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

he took a few seconds before hesitantly nodding, you spot a log near him and walked towards it, sitting.

"i have nightmares too, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. it's totally normal." you comforted him, squinting your eyes at him as you smiled.

"how'd ye end up here? isn't your daddy gon' come crazy lookin for ya?" he asked in a mocking manner.

"no, i told maggie that i'll be checking the stables for nelly, she's always nervous..." you said as you scratched your neck.

"the stables tha' way." he told you pointing at the stables, a bit of a distance from him.

"yeah, i know. i've lived here all my life." you told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"so why are ye here?" he asked, you shook your head at him.

"i was just curious who stayed here, it's so far from the others. are you being bullied? do you want me to tell dadd—" you rambled.

"nah, i jus' like my space. no nosy neighbor or anythin'." he admitted.

"okay, i'll get going, i just check up on you." you smiled at him and stood up from the log.

he grunted in response, you turned around to walk to the stables but stopped.

you turned to face him again, you caught eye contact with him.

"wait! what's your name?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in curiousity once again.

"daryl... dixon." he told you, still hesitantly, as always.

"okay! i'll come visit you tomorrow mr. dixon!" you said cheerfully.

you waved at him, a bright smile on your face. you turned around and continued your way to your original destination.

you can feel his stare burning through your back but you ignored it, was he so angry he was burning holes into you?

"daddy? who's been shot?" you asked as you went down the stairs rubbing your eyes.

your sister, beth, woke you up and said that someone has been shot, only a graze in the head and your daddy's already fixed it.

"who told you?" maggie asked as she handed you your cup of coffee, you took it with a smile and a good morning.

"beth, she woke me up." you said and maggie nodded.

"it's daryl." maggie responded to you for your father, seeing that her dad, your dad, who is also beth's dad is busy checking the medication stock.

"the one near the barn?" you asked her as you took a sip of the coffee, taking a seat on the counter as you played with the hem of your night dress.

"i guess so." maggie replied, finishing off her bread. then you remembered something.

"hey, where's my chick?" you asked her, jumping off the counter and scanning the cupboards for the eggs, ready to take one.

"what chick?" your dad butted in, having finished with checking the stocks.

"maggie told me yes, daddy." you quickly defended, still not explaining.

"told her she could keep an egg to raise, as long as she keeps it alive." maggie said.

you beamed at your daddy, plastering on your most charming and pleading eyes.

"you know i can't say no to you." your dad chuckled and shook his head.

"i know, daddy." you hugged him as he kissed the top of your head, ruffling it.

"are you coming with beth, maggie, patricia and jim for gun training?" your dad asked as you backed away from the hug.

"i don't feel like it today, daddy... not after beth interrupted my sleep." you glanced at your younger sister, teasing her.

"alright." he said with a huff, making you pout.

"is that okay with you, daddy?" you asked him for permission, he nodded once again.

"that's alright with me." he said, you smiled at him as you got back to your coffee.

"who's the ones staying behind?" you asked your older sister as you swing your legs back and forth.

"just you and daddy." she said, glancing out the window a little longer than a second.

"okay." you shrugged.

she glanced out the window again and kept on repeating it, making you worried for her.

"are you alright, do you see any walkers?" you asked her as you went near the window to take a glance.

she tried to stop you but it was already too late, you had already seen it.

"oh." you said and smiled at her, it was glenn having breakfast with the others who were living outside their house.

"you're so whipped for him, did something happen between you?" you asked her as you took a step back.

she turned red and avoided your gaze, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"did he hurt you?" you immediately asked your older sister as you were worried for her.

she shook her head, placing her empty cup on the sink.

"okay. i think i'll go check up on mr. dixon." you told her as you finished the rest of your coffee, placing it down on the counter.

she nodded and waved you off, you smiled and took a few steps back, before turning around and rushing upstairs.

you scanned the first guest room and saw that there was no one, so you closed it.

you took a few steps towards the second door and knocked on it softly.

you opened the door and found the man you were looking for, you smiled at him as he glanced at you.

"how are you feeling?" you asked as you walked towards him, gently closing the door behind you.

you sat at the side of the bed as you checked him, he looked pretty bruised.

you let the back of your hand feel his temperature, he flinched but didn't say anything else.

"as shitty as i look." he responded as he gazed up the ceiling, ignoring the aching pain in his head.

"i'm sure andrea didn't mean it, she thought you were one of them so she tried to shoot you to protect everyone else in this camp." you explained to him what you see in the situation.

he grunted, "sure she didn't." you frowned and nodded then gazed around the room.

"this is my favorite room." you told him as you analyzed him, from the bandages on his head to the dirts on his face and tattoos on his muscular chest.

"you've got two rooms?" he asked rather harshly, he can't blame himself as he's grown to always share things and the girl in front of him has two rooms.

"no, silly. i like to stay here when i'm feeling sad... i love the view by that window, you should check it before you guys find sophia and leave..." you smiled at him, the smile never faltering.

"ya want us to leave already?" he asked and you turned red, embarrassed.

"n—no! i kind of love having you guys here, it's not boring as before..." you told him as you fidgeted with your fingers.

"jus' teasin' ye." he smirked at you, making you sighed out in relief.

"what's your job before all of this?" you asked him as you put the rest of your body up the bed.

you crawled over to the head of the bed and laid your back against the headboard.

"what ye doin'?" he asked as he watched your every movement, you can feel his heated gaze at your skin.

"i'm sitting..." you stated the obvious and he groaned, deciding to let it go.

"so what's your job?" you asked him as you reached out to touch his hair.

he snapped his eyes at you making you giggle and pull away from him, pretending to do something else.

"jus' everything, as long as it gives money." he stated, his voice cold making you feel guilty.

it must have been bad memories and you had the audacity to bring it up.

"sorry, i didn't know it was a sensitive topic to you." you admitted as you laid down the bed.

you still kept a fair distance between the both of you as you laid in your back.

you turned to your side, facing him as he was still facing the ceiling.

"it wasn't." he argued making you nod, not truly believing the two words coming out of his mouth.

"have you had breakfast?" you asked him as you gazed at his side profile.

"'m not hungry." he told you, you still didn't believe him. you sat up and slide down the bed, getting on your feet.

"i'll make you something to eat." you told him as you smiled, walking towards the door, opening it as you went outside and closing it.

once you went outside to make him something to eat, he immediately darted his hand at his chest, breathing heavily.

"fuck." he cursed as he can feel his jeans tightening. he tried to shift it but failed miserably.

he had to make this quick if he doesn't want you to notice when you come back, or catch him on the act.

he shifted slightly, going up the bed and sitting up, back against the headboard.

he feels guilty, he wants to stop himself as he's having forbidden thoughts about you.

he was almost caught by you yesterday when you went to his little campsite.

he was jerking off, to the thought of you. he felt an invisible string of attraction when he saw you when they first arrived.

he loved the way you smiled at each one of them even though you hardly knew them.

he loved you in your cute dresses, almost as if teasing him with the below knee length.

everything you did had a meaning to him, with you going to check up on him and laying in bed with him.

he absolutely loved the feeling of your hand on his forehead when you checked his temperature.

call him obsessed but he grabbed the part of comforter you sat on.

he brought it to his face, sniffing it and immediately relaxing to the smell of you.

to the smell of honey and candy. he hates sweet smells but when it comes to you, he's totally head over heels for it.

he slowly unbuckled his belt and took it off, shifting with the buttons of his jeans as he slipped the zipper off.

he lifted his hips slightly as he lowered his jeans just below the butt.

he grabbed his semi-hard cock as he groaned just when he touched it.

he tried thinking of other things, imagining two people having sex or the pornographic photos merle showed him.

but his mind left drifting back to you, you and your cute dresses that had no intentions of teasing him ever intentionally.

the way you bent over to pick eggs from the chicken coop, showing a little bit of your legs.

he felt like a victorian man seeing some ankles, but instead he saw your legs.

it's not much but he gets a hard on when he glances at your milky white legs.

he raised his hand up and down as he threw his head back, he imagined the way your pretty little mouth would fit his cock in.

he could tell he would have a hard time fitting it in, if ever you and him happened.

he can picture you being a moaning mess beneath him as you cried his name in pleasure.

you, begging him to go faster as your nearing, you, clenching the sheets as you come all over his cock.

the way your breasts would wiggle when he thrusts into you from above and from behind.

he can see the way your cunt hugs around his cock as he had a hard time thrusting in.

but due to the pre-cum from both of you he will start having it easy but still hard due to your tight cunt.

he kept pumping his cock on his hand as he raised his hips, he then imagined fucking you over the window as you glanced at the beautiful view outside.

he stifled a moan when he moved his hands faster, then after a few seconds his hands was covered with his warm white liquid.

he could hear a slight shuffle as he wiped his hands on the towel on the bedside table, he stuffed his cock back in his jeans, fastening it and buckling his belt back.

he wiped his hands on the comforter, if it ever had any liquid left then covered half of his body with the comforter.

then just a minute later, the door opened, revealing you carrying a tray with a bright smile.

"here, coffee and bacon..." you placed the tray beside him as you took a chair and sat next to him.

"y'want?" he asked as he chewed on the bacon, you shook your head.

"daddy is busy, he's busy with carl." you told him as you stood up from the chair, going to one of the cupboard.

"so what?" he asked as he took a sip of his coffee, still chewing on the bacon.

"i'll be your nurse today, isn't that great? i'll get to know you more, mr. dixon." you smiled at him, turning your head back as you rummaged through the things inside.

you grabbed a roll of bandage and a few ointments for him, "better." he whispered under his breath as he tried to avert his eyes from the way your dress rose every time you stood on your tippy toes to reach inside the cupboard.

"i'll change your bandages, they must be covered in your blood." you told him as you closed the cupboard, going back to sit at the chair beside him.

"you should finish that first and i'll give you pain killers." you told him as he nodded, drinking the rest of his coffee.

he set the tray aside as you popped open the organizer, giving him a pain killer.

he took it and drank it with the water you brought earlier, you started assisting him to sitting up straighter.

you slowly took off his bandage as you looked across his back, "it's beautiful." you assured him when he tried to shift away from your touch.

"no scars are beautiful." he argued, hating that you lied to him to make him feel better.

"well, yours are. it shows that you survived that stage of life. i like your tattoos too, does it hurt?" you asked him as you wiped his back.

"when ye get 'em, and fer the first few weeks." he responded with a grunt as you stopped cleaning his back.

"i don't think i'll find someone who still does tattoos." you squint your eyes as you started opening the cap of the ointment.

you applied some to his side gently as he flinched every now and then.

"trust me, ye don't wanna get one." he groaned as he flinched away from your touch.

you pulled away from him as you placed the cap back of the ointment.

you took the bandage, "okay, tell me if it's too tight." you said as you looked at him.

he looked away before he could think about anything else dirty on your sentence.

he simply nodded and raised his arms a bit as you wrapped your arms around him.

you placed the end of the bandage on his back as you circled the bandage, wrapping him.

your touch burned him but he didn't dare say anything else, he simply enjoyed the feelings of your small hands on him.

you finished wrapping his torso in bandage, you set it aside as you sealed the bandage.

"i-i... saw you earlier." you admitted, cheeks red as you stared at the bed.

"w-what?" he stuttered, hoping that you didn't catch him masturbating and moaning your name.

"you were s-saying my name... and you were touching the thing here." you pointed at his bulge as you looked at his eyes.

your blush darkened when you made eye contact with him, his eyes darkened as he looked at your flustered form.

"i... was just trying to make my pain go away." he lied as he looked away from you.

"oh... i learned that, my classmate told me they do that and release a white cream once they feel better." you told him with interest.

"yeah..." he went along as he nodded immediately, he can feel himself growing hard again so he placed a pillow on top.

"are you feeling pain again?" you asked him as your eyes filled with worry.

"y-yeah." he hesitated, she went near him as she touched his forehead.

"i'll make you feel better, daddy told me to take care of you." you sat on the heels of your feet.

"you should." he didn't know where his confidence came from but he used it.

"okay... i-i don't know how to start." you admitted, looking up at him as you fidgeted with your fingers.

"take off my jeans." he told her softly, she followed what he said and soon slipped his jeans off his legs.

"i'll make you feel better, mr. dixon... i promise." you smiled at him reassuringly.

you place two hands to wrap around his angry cock, you stare at it with amusement.

it was your first time seeing one, except for the drawings in schools that's presented in science.

"i-is all this big?" you asked as you can't even wrap a hand on him.

"no, baby." he caressed your jaw as you nodded, you copied his actions moments earlier.

you stroke his cock carefully, watching his face contort into pleasure as he closed his eyes.

"are you starting to feel better, mr. dixon?" you asked as you continued stroking his length.

"yes..." he nodded as he gripped the headboards, opening his eyes to see you looking at him with a smile.

you continued moving your hand up and down as he held back a quiet moan, in case hershel heard.

his cock twitched as you stared at it weirdly, it's veins were more prominent and his tip is red.

he was most likely ten inches long or maybe more, he was very thick.

"it feels good... baby." he moaned as he thrust his cock into your hand.

"tell me once you feel better, okay?" you asked him as you stroked him faster.

his cock twitches one more time before his cum rushes down and drips down your hand.

he moaned heavily as he panted, coming down from his high.

"i did it! i made you feel better!" you exclaimed in happiness, not really minding the white liquid covering your hand.

"yes, baby. you did." he smiled as he ruffles your hair, he had an idea as he bit his lips.

"you need to drink my white cream, you might have been infected and that white cream is like a medicine." he said without an ounce of guilt.

you stared at him weirdly once again as he nodded encouragely at you.

you nodded and bent down to face his lower abdomen, you licked his stomach and upper leg as you tried to kick every of his cum that you see.

you also looked at him as you licked your hand, you sucked one of your fingers into your mouth, pulling it out then the other one.

he groaned and almost cum again without contact, just the sight of you like that or even just with your hands on him can almost make him cum.

"it... tastes weird." you told him truthfully as you fidgeted with your fingers.

"what's that? you know that is very disrespectful?" he told you as your eyes went wide.

"i—i didn't know, i'm sorry..." you told him quickly as you shifted.

"you should be grateful for whatever i give you, 'ight?" he held your chin as he studied every inch of your face.

"y—yes." you nodded slowly, completely submitting to him, he smiled at that.

daryl patted your head as he lifted you into his lap, you shifted on top of him comfortably as you looked at his eyes.

he groaned when his tip came in contact with your clothed cunt.

"you feel good, baby?" he asked when you grind onto him for unknown reasons to you.

you nodded as he held your hips to stop you from moving any further.

you felt bliss when his tip was just touching your cunt, you have to feel more.

you want to feel more of him, you want to feel good and you also want him to feel good.

"use your words, sweetheart." he let out a low groan as his grip tightens on your hip.

you whimpered as you tried to form a proper sentence without stuttering or stumbling with your words.

"y—yes, mr. dixon." you nodded as you tried to fight his grip by moving to grind onto him.

"no, baby..." he told you, he scolded you as if you're a little girl who needs a punishment.

"you can't call me, mr... if you want me to make you feel good." he slowly talked to you, like talking to a little girl.

you nodded, "what should i call you? what will i call you?" you asked him as you try to grind onto him.

"daryl..." he teased you, moaning slightly as he said his own name.

you blushed as you took in his name, "daryl." you tried and looked at his eyes.

"it would be weird, da... daddy would be mad if he knew i called an older person by their name, he told me to always be respectful..." you told him what hershel taught you.

"well, your daddy doesn't have to know." he told you as he caressed your hips by his thumb.

"i... can't keep secrets." you told him, looking up at him. he was a lot taller than you even when he was seated with you on his lap.

"well, you have to... or else your daddy and i will be mad at you, do you want that?" he asked as he tapped his thumb onto your hips.

"no... i don't want someone mad at me." you shook your head as you looked down.

you blushed when you saw his erected cock, his tip was touching your clothed cunt.

your dress has lifted a bit when he sat you on his lap, the dress was in your hips, showing your legs and underwear.

"then let's keep this a secret, 'ight?" he leaned closer, pressing his tip into you harder.

you whimpered and nodded your head, he softened his grip on your hips as you stayed in place.

"a-are we going to do sex?" you asked him as you placed your hands on his chest. you played with his chest as you looked back and up at him.

"no, baby. we're going to make love." daryl told you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"but we don't love each other." you told him sheepishly as you looked back at his chest. you admired his tattoos in awe as you traced them softly.

"i love you, and you will love me back after this." he told you firmly as he caressed your hair.

"o—kay..." you said, believing him. your daddy told you to always open your heart.

he leaned in and placed his lips onto yours, you blushed as you didn't know what to do.

you closed your eyes as he kissed you, he placed his grip onto your waist.

he kissed you softly as he bit your lip, you whimpered in pain as he took it as an opportunity to enter his tongue in.

you unconsciously put your arms around his neck as you started to follow his movements.

you tried to kiss him back as you moaned when he sucked on your lower lip.

you were almost embarrassed for the sounds you were making as he kissed you.

you grind your hips onto him unconsciously as you kissed, he sucked on your tongue and lower lip every now and then.

he let you grind your hips into him as you whimpered, you felt good and you want more.

"i-i'm sorry, daryl... but, i want more." you started after you pulled away from him, you tried to also catch your breath.

you were sorry because he just told you earlier how disrespectful it is to not appreciate what you were given.

he smirked and caressed your waist and hair, "you do? what do you want?"

"i feel good, but i want to feel more good..." you told him as you pouted and looked into his eyes.

"do you want daryl in your princess part?" he told you as you nodded, you didn't know what princess part is but you just nodded.

"do you know what that is?" he asked you, you shook your head shyly.

he let out a low chuckled as he let go of your hair he let his hands wander between your thighs as you whimpered.

he caressed it, "this is your princess part, baby." he told you, you didn't say anything as you whimpered, trying to grind onto his hand.

"that's my vagina..." you told him as you so desperately tried grinding onto him.

"no, it's princess part for you, 'right?" he said and slapped your princess part.

you whimpered and nodded, "it's my princess part." you told him as he grinned.

"how bad do you want it, sweetheart?" he asked as he slowly took off your panties.

"so... bad." you whined as you got off his lap and took off your own panties.

you got back on his lap, sitting directly on his cock as you moaned softly.

he teased your entrance as he slid his cock up and down your slit.

"you ready?" he asked and you nodded slowly, you were nervous, it was your first time.

you can't think about anything else, you didn't care if your daddy will get angry if he found out.

you just want daryl, you want to feel good and make love with him.

"i-i'll get pregnant..." you told him worriedly as you placed your hands on his shoulder.

he didn't respond and you gulped, he turned your positions so he was on top of you.

"so wet already?" he tapped his tip into your slit as he teased you.

you nodded, you can feel the wetness on your leg dripping down earlier.

it wasn't the first time you felt like that... you felt it whenever you catch maggie watching pornographic movies.

you felt guilty and confused why you got wet when you also watched the movie secretly.

you immediately went into your room that night and just slept it off.

daryl adjusted his cock into your entrance as he slowly slid in, you gasped in pain as you gripped onto his shoulders.

"daryl... i-i can't, it hurts." you cried as a tear slid down your face.

"it's okay, baby... it's just for a minute or so, everyone experiences this on their first time, it's normal." he told you, wiping your tears.

you nodded and sniffled, it was the truth, you heard your female classmates talking about their first time hurting.

but what isn't normal is the size of daryl's cock, it was beyond the average size.

it added to the pain you were feeling, you felt stretched out even if it was just his tip in you.

you closed your eyes in pain when he pushed a part of him in again. you took deep breaths and tried to calm your self.

"it still hurts..." you told him softly, opening your eyes and looking at him.

he felt a tug at his heart when you looked at him and when he looked at your eyes.

daryl wiped your tears again as he shush you. "it's okay, it'll hurt even more when i pull out."

you pouted but nodded, you wanted this too so you just have to suck it up.

he pushed another part of him in and you just whispered to yourself.

"why are you so big... i—is that normal?" you asked him, glaring at the ceiling.

he just chuckled, he whispered something incoherently to you before pushing the rest of his length in.

"dar—" you shouted in pain but he put his hand onto your mouth, he wiped your tears.

"it's okay..." he slowly told you as he pulled out just to go back in.

you can feel the sudden shift of emotions, you moaned in pleasure and pain the fifth time he slammed into you.

"feels good?" he asked you as he pounded into you, gently then roughly.

"daryl..." you moaned loudly as he pumped in and out, you whimpered.

"stay quiet, your daddy will hear ye'." he whispered to your ear.

you bit down on your lip to stop your loud moans, that even porn models would be jealous of.

daryl loved your moans but it was what would get the both of you caught.

he looked down where both of you meet, your cunt was better than he dreamt of.

your cunt was hugging his cock so tight that his imagination would be so ashamed.

"daryl..." you moaned lowly as he continued his pace, you kissed him as he roughly pumped into you.

"this princess part is mine, got it?" he asked as he slowed his pace.

"daryl— faster!" you bit your lip as you begged him to pick up his pace again.

"got it?" he asked and you nodded, "words, sweetheart." he whispered into your ear.

"yes... it's yours! please— daryl..." you moaned softly as he fastened his pace again.

he can feel you clench around him and he started slowing down just to go faster.

"i-i feel something weird on my tummy... daryl!" you moaned as you squirmed.

"let it out, baby... cum on my cock." he told you as you both can only hear the sound of sound slapping against each other.

you did as he told and let it out, whatever you were feeling on your stomach..

you came as daryl continued pounding onto your cunt relentlessly.

"i would make love to you from day to night if it wasn't your first time, baby..." he whispered.

you were feeling so sensitive that every time he came in contact with your princess part, you messily moaned.

"i-i feel it again..." you said quickly, it hasn't even been a minute since your last release.

daryl was so quick and rough that you came once again, you whimpered as daryl groaned and growled into your ears.

"i'm coming, baby." he muttered under his breath, "i'm cumming inside you."

"i-i'll get pregnant—" you tried to say but was interrupted by your own moan.

you tried protesting but he whispered soft things to your ear.

"i'll take care of you both..." he assured you as he fastened his pace.

"i'll keep stuffing my babies into you so you can never be taken away from me..." he told you.

you nodded, it was a promising life. it was your dream to have your own family someday.

you didn't know if your daddy would be happy with having a grandchild already.

"i'll show the boys interested to you that you're mine and you're carrying my baby..." he moaned.

"y-yes! okay..." you nodded as he thrust into you, you felt attracted to him and you thought it was enough to start a family of your own with him.

you didn't know again what your daddy would feel if you had a family of your own before your older sister, maggie.

"fuck... 'm goin' to cum inside ye'." he told you and his thrust turn sloppy as you can feel warm liquid gush into you.

you whimpered softly as he pulled out his cock. he was still hard even if you were already done.

you can feel your own cum mixed with daryl's cum trickle out of you slowly.

you tried to catch your breath as you pulled down your dress.

"i love ye'..." daryl whispered to you as he stuffed his cum back into you.

you didn't respond and closed your eyes, laying your head on the soft pillow.

you can feel a bit of guilt and regret that you let him cum inside you.

you started to doubt if it was a good idea to let him cum inside you.

you weren't even sure if you were ready to start a family as sure as you were earlier.

"i—i... don't think i want a child at this time..." you told him innocently and softly.

you can't imagine raising a child during an apocalypse where every breath you make is a risk.

"you can't do anything about it... i already came inside you, you're going to carry our child, hm?" he hugged you as he caressed your hair.

you didn't know what to do.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

You Said You Have All Day?

michael gavey x ta!fem!reader 

Summary: You’re a TA in Michaels class and he can’t get you out of his mind. You always give him a perfect score until recently and you’re more than happy to explain why. 

Warnings: 18+ both parties are a lil obsessed w each other, swearing, nipple play, handjob, oral(f+m), p in v, unprotected, implied loss of virginity(not specified) 

Authors Note: uh the conditioning might’ve been really wild of me to use but 🤷🏼‍♀️ no bc watching this movie when it came out for ewan and then finishing it traumatized was such a treat 😌 this was a semi request from an anon that i wrote instantly bc i have zero chill! 

Word Count: 3.3k 

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When Michael found out this class met three times a week he was annoyed to say the least but when you took your seat next to the professor behind the desk and announced yourself as the TA he wished he picked a seat closer to the front. You were the best beginning and end of his week and getting to see you on Wednesdays just made him feel gluttonous. On the days he wasn’t guaranteed to see you he would walk by the classroom and watch you grade papers and every night you would appear in his dreams and he would wake up glad he had a single dorm. 

You’ve been constantly on his mind and watching you dutifully grade others' work turned him on to no end. Knowing you actually had a brain made his slight obsession worsen. You never left any marks on his paper besides 100/100. No dots or checks. No trace of you besides 6 numbers and a dash. Today when he sat down after collecting his paper his heart stopped at the 95/100 on the top of the paper. 

Impossible. He checked his work over twice. He scans the paper and stops as he sees your marking. His nostrils flare and clenches his fists on his desk. He had missed one number in the thousandths place. An absolutely fucking useless place. The hundredths place is just fine. More commonly used. He wouldn’t accept this. Everything else was perfect and five fucking points for one number. 

The rest of the class he stared holes into his paper at the marking you left behind. The one single red number that clashed with his black one. He looks up and sees the rest of the class packing up to leave. He grabs his bag and makes his way to the desk. He stares down at you as you continue to scribble on some idiot's paper by the looks of it. He hears the paper crunch in his hand and he starts to smooth it out and you look up to him with a jump. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” you look up at him like you’ve been caught. “What can I do for you, Michael?” you tilt your head. His name on your tongue causes him to pause. You know his name? 

“Five points for one single digit? In the thousandths place.” the word like a curse on his tongue. He watches your face slightly crumble before you steel yourself.

“Yes. The answer is wrong.” you blink up to him and his eyes widen. 

“It is not. It was just one mistake. One digit.” he presses his paper on top of the paper you were currently grading. 

“The answer needed to be in the thousandths place. Therefore your answer is wrong.” you push his paper toward him and continue to grade the paper you started on. 

“It was not wrong.” his voice starts to raise and you set your pen down and look up at him. 

“What is it that you want me to do? It’s still an A. You’re still the smartest in the class if not the entire year.” you watch his face flush. 

He snatches the paper off your desk and storms out of the room. He throws the paper away in the nearest trash can and makes a line for his dorm. He throws his backpack on the floor and slams his door shut. He wanted to yell at you so badly and then you complimented him. Then he remembers how you said his name when you looked up at him for the first time. Fuck his mind was racing with the whole interaction and how that was the first time he spoke to you. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and starts the entire conversation over in his head from the beginning. The way you looked up at him with your doe eyes that he imagines looks at him the same when you’re on your knees. You calling him by his name had been a shock and he wants to hear it in many different ways that have his cock straining against his pants. The way you argued with him over one number and then called him the smartest in the class. 

He was infuriated with you and with himself. He knows he should’ve read the problem more carefully but five points is ridiculous. He also knows it’s not your fault and he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. He groans, rubbing his face and falling back onto his bed. On Wednesday he plans to apologize to you hoping that you won’t hate him. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Micheal’s palms are sweating as he walks to his morning class. He’s been jittery since he woke up and even got to the room early in hopes to catch you before the rest of his classmates show up but you weren’t there. The room starts to fill and once the professor starts to talk he can’t help but wonder where you are. As if on cue you slip through the door and his eyes bulge. 

You are wearing the lowest cut velvet track pants he’s seen and a matching skin tight zip up that rests above your navel. Your hair is thrown up haphazardly and you walk over to the professor quickly who exchanges hushed words with you before you take your seat. Michael can’t take his eyes off you and when you get up to grab the papers from the other side of the desk and he sees the word ‘juicy’ spread across your ass his mouth dries. 

For the rest of the class he imagines what kind of shirt you’re wearing underneath the zip up. His mind likes to think that you’re wearing nothing under there and that if he had the chance to tug on the zipper he would be greeted by your tits. How you would make such sweet sounds if he licked and teased your nipples. Not that these things would ever happen but he loved to imagine them. He just wished he waited to start this line of thinking until he got back to his dorm. He silently readjusts in his seat and goes over his apology in his head. 

He starts to lose his nerve the longer class goes on and the more curled over the desk you become as you grade. His eyes keep catching on your cleavage and the pen that you rest between your lips from time to time. Once class is dismissed he waits and walks down to the desk. He tries to calm his nerves but ends up just standing over you and staring down at you. 

“Yes, Michael?” you hum not even looking up. 

“I wanted to, um,” he clears his throat and you look up at him tilting your head. “I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” he scrunches his brows. 

“It’s okay. I figured you would say something.” you set your pen down. 

“I didn’t even think you knew who I was.” he mumbles. 

“You’re the only person I give A’s too. I like to think of you as my best student.” his eyes snap to yours. 

“You don’t teach me anything.” his eyes darken. 

“Don’t I?” you tilt your head. “Have you heard of Pavlov?” he doesn’t understand why you’re talking about some old dead psychologist. “Every time you get your paper back from me it’s always a 100/100. Even if you miss the thousandths place from time to time.” you smirk and his breath catches. “So I knew when I marked you for it the first time you would come up to me.” fuck you don’t know if you should’ve said that. It was an insane thought when you had the idea for your paper but you figured if anyone would’ve appreciated the thought behind it it would be him. 

“You used classical fucking conditioning on me?” he looks at you baffled and amused. 

“Does it make it better if I say I’m using this for a paper?” you definitely shouldn’t have said anything. “But I won’t use your name or anything. It’ll be totally anonymous. I didn’t mean anything by it. I wanted the excuse to talk to you.” he listens to you ramble and decides you’re fucking crazy. But you did all of this to talk to him? He wishes he would’ve come up with something as clever and thoughtful. Did he really just think you conditioning him was thoughtful? “Michael?” your soft voice snaps him back to you. 

“Why do you want to talk to me?” he looks you over. 

“Because you’re smart and I have a thing for cute nerds.” you bite your lip and his eyes catch the motion. 

“Is this a joke? Another thing for your paper?” he studies you skeptically. 

“Choosing you was self indulgent.” you shake your head. “And whatever you want as compensation stays out of the paper.” you feel your cheeks flush at your boldness. 

“My compensation?” his mouth dries out thinking of all of the possibilities. 

“Technically it’s the reward in the scenario.” his head spins as you continue with this ridiculous psychology analogy. “It used to be the constant 100/100 even with miniscule mistakes. Now it can be,” you fingers grab your sweater zipper and he swears his heart stops. “What would you like your reward to be? Hm?” you lower it and he watches as he’s only greeted by more skin. The door starts to open and you zip your sweater back up. 

“Come back to my dorm.” his voice a plea. You’re pushing your chair back in an instant. “Really?” he watches you pack your bag. 

“Really.” you nod your head. You grab his hand and look up to him expectantly. “Lead the way.” he all but drags you down the halls. You chuckle, matching his quick pace, the anticipation settling as a warmth in between your thighs. You come to a stop in front of a door and he looks down at you, chewing his lip. 

“You’re serious?” he searches your eyes. 

“Very.” you lick your lower lip and he opens the door. You figured his dorm would be more neat but all of the papers and books spread around also add up. “Do you have a roommate?” you watch him lock the door and walk over to you. 

“No.” he shakes his head as he stops directly in front of you. He grabs your bag and sets it on the chair next to his. “Can I touch you?” you smile at his red cheeks. 

“I would like that.” his fingers are tugging your zipper down and his mouth waters as your tits spill out. 

He stares at your hardening nipples before bringing his hands up to engulf your chest. He takes your hard buds between his thumb and pointer fingers and rolls them, relishing in the soft whimpers that fall from your lips. He dips down and flicks his tongue against one of your nipples causing you to press closer to his mouth. He sucks the peak into his mouth and begins to lash his tongue against it. He kisses across your chest to your other nipple and you whine when his hot mouth encases it offering it the same attention. 

“These are more perfect than I imagined.” he murmurs against your chest. Your fingers brush through his hair as he sucks at you and he looks up to you taking in your blown pupils. He tugs the sweater the rest of the way off and stands up looking down at you. “Can I keep going?” you nod your head quickly. 

“Please,” you step closer to him and he walks you over to his bed. “I’m here for you Michael. Do whatever you want to me. I want you.” his knees threaten to give out. There are things he’s only dreamed about doing to an actual girl and now you’re here just for him. He lays you back on his bed, eyes watching your exposed tits the whole time. 

“You’re sure?” he watches you nod your head quickly. He slowly pulls the tie on your pants and you lift your hips for him to pull them off. He groans when he’s greeted by your glistening cunt. “Are you always bare like this?” he looks up, enjoying your blush. 

“No.” you shake your head as his fingers run up your thighs spreading them. “I was running late.” your breath catches as he runs his thumbs up the sides of your slit. “Mikey.” you whine and he repeats the action watching your face spread with pleasure. 

He’s never done this before and he refuses to admit that. Sure he’s indulged in adult films and magazines but nothing could have prepared him for you spread out and trembling on his bed for him. You dig into the sheets as he spreads you more before dipping down. There’s no fucking way this nerd is about to eat you out right? Michael looks you over, quickly deciding the small bud at the apex is your clit and flicks his tongue against it and the sounds that leave your mouth tell him he was right.

“Yes, fuck Mikey, yes.” his tongue flicks faster and he looks up watching you arch off the bed. Your fingers bury in his hair holding him against you and you let out a soft squeak as his metal frames press against your skin. He’s licking at you so feverishly your hips start to roll against his face. “Mm, please,” you gasp as your stomach tightens. Your legs squeeze around his head as you arch off the bed holding onto him as you come undone. It tears through you so unexpectedly that you’re left gasping. You never would’ve thought he could do that. 

“How are you feeling?” he looks up at your still shaking body. He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate for your approval but he needs to know if he did that right and if you liked it. He watches you gather your thoughts and starts to press his lips against your body as he scoots up. His wraps his lips around your nipple and you whine holding him closer.

“You’re making me feel so good.” he smiles at your breathy words as he teases your peak with his teeth. “Will you fuck me? Please Mikey.” you push your chest up into him and he kisses over to your other nipple. He wants to fuck you so badly but he needs to spend some time with your tits. He’s so hard that he knows the second his cock touches your juices he’ll burst. 

“In a minute. Have some patience.” he clicks his tongue before pulling your nipple between his teeth. The soft sounds coming out of your mouth are not helping him calm down but he can’t get enough of them. You start to claw his sweater off and he lifts off to pull it the rest of the way off. Your fingers are quickly at his button and when you shove your hand down his pants he freezes. You smile as you wrap your fingers around his length and watch his cheeks flush. 

“Let me make you feel good too.” when your thumb swipes against his leaking tip he clenches his jaw using all of his restraint not to come all over your hand. He wants to say something but he doesn’t want you to think he’s too inexperienced. “You can come Mikey. I’ll wait until you get hard again. I have all day.” you lean up and press your lips to his neck as you slowly stroke him. 

“I’m not gonna last.” he says through his teeth. You watch his stomach flex as you tighten your grip and you suck harshly on his shoulder. “Fuck.” he twitches in your hand and his come starts to coat your fingers. He watches you pull your hand out with low lids and bring your fingers to your mouth. He feels himself start to harden already as you slowly lick at your fingers. 

“Finish taking off your pants.” you whine tugging at the material. He stands up and gets nervous suddenly and scrunches his brows. “Do you need me to help you?” you get off the bed and get to your knees in front of him. 

You start to tug them down and he chews his lip staring down at you as he kicks them the rest of the way off. Your hands reach for his hardening cock and he groans as your fingers wrap around him and you place soft kisses on the underside. He watches you with a heaving chest as you suck him into your mouth. If you keep this up he won’t be able to last long. You look up at him and he pulls you off. 

“I need to fuck you.” he pulls you up and gets you back onto the bed. He settles between your thighs and you pull him down to your lips. He’s surprised you’d want to kiss him too, any of this. When you move your hips his tip slides up your slit and you whimper. 

“Please,” you writhe beneath him. He lines himself up at your entrance and starts to push into you. He stills when he’s fully settled inside of you. The warmth and tightness of you is the most exquisite thing he’s ever felt. “More.” your soft plea has him beginning to rock his hips. 

He watches your tits bounce with every thrust and he leans down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your legs wrap around his hips as he rocks into you and he’s focusing on you to prolong his own pleasure or this would’ve been done within seconds. Your soft gasps mixed with his name have his hips moving quicker. 

“Yes, Mikey,” you whine, feeling your pleasure start to coil. You know he might blush over it but you want to come around him and you need him to do one more thing. You grab his hand and bring it down between your thighs. “Please,” a soft word and he understands immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” his hips falter along with his demeanor. 

“No, you feel so fucking good I just want more. More please.” he pushes into you with new vigor as he starts to circle his thumb on your bud. “Mikey,” you cry out and he watches your face scrunch in pleasure. The second he feels you start to pulse around him he’s spilling inside of you. His hips softly grind into you as he fills you with his pleasure and the whimpers spilling from your mouth are making his high last forever. 

“You said you have all day?” he looks down at you panting. 

“I do.” you bite your lip as you feel him start to pull out. 

“Can I fuck you again?” he searches your eyes. “If you liked it of course. I should’ve- 

“You can fuck me for as long as you can stay hard.” you smile as he presses his lips to yours. 

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masterlist 🔌

i have never wrote for him so i hope i did him justice 🫣🧎🏼‍♀️

taglist ✍️ 

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