#COURT MY BEST FRIEND MY LOVE MY LIGHT

[stardustvanfleet]

it’s court’s birthday!!! 🌟🥰❤️

@sinsofstardust ……. my best friend, my love, my writing partner, the moon to my sun….. i am so so so grateful that gvf and the universe brought us together. i feel like we’ve known each other for YEARS and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOONBEAM 🥰 have a collection of your darling boys, just for you! ❤️

[koemiexists]

need a overstim fic w alastor pleaseeeeee and maybe some bondage with his tentacles????

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

summary: alastor is your best friend, you think. but he doesn't want that. and you're okay with it. word count: 1.6k tags: smut, light bondage, tentacles, tentacle sex, overstimulation, monster form alastor, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, vaginal sex a/n: sorry for the wait!! i have been busy with school, as per the usual... but again!! slowly but surely!! the tortoise wins the race as they say!

You and Alastor were practically best friends. He never said it explicitly, but you knew that you and him had to be really close for him to be so at ease with you. 

Rosie had told you that not once had his smile dropped, even in private with her. You, however, witnessed it one time. It was an accident, sure, you had just looked up at the exact moment his smile dropped from a wide grin to a bit of a grimace. It happened so quickly you almost thought you were imagining things. 

Considering this, if anyone asked, you would confidently say that you and Alastor are best friends.

Alastor didn’t think the same, though, you came to realize when he loomed over your bed one night.

You were upset, to be honest, especially because you barely had time to yank your hands out of your underwear when you heard the telltale sign of him entering.

His shadow had spread out along the wall, staring down at you as you shot up, staring at Alastor, cheeks slightly red. The room was illuminated by two light sources; the constant dim lighting of Hell and all of the artificial bulbs that littered the streets, and Alastor’s glowing red eyes staring straight at you.

“Alastor?” You whispered, tilting your head in question of just why he was at your bed in the middle of the night. Angel had dragged you to a bunch of shopping stores for the entire day, rambling about how your wardrobe was especially lacking, so you were tired, and just wanted to let loose steam before finally sleeping.

In retrospect, you were glad you went along, considering you brought Charlie a new suit that she loved.

A sharp crackle of radio static forced your thoughts back on the Radio Demon’s form, and how he just continued to stare, before clearing his throat, the constant noise altering his voice rising. 

“Apologies, (Name).” He started slowly, gently sitting at the edge of your bed as you continued to silently look at him, your confusion heightening as you began to get apprehensive of what his goal was here. 

Despite the air thickening with static and apprehension, you couldn’t help the fact that you began to get wetter at the sight of Alastor. He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at your form. 

“Why are you here?” You question softly, removing your covers from your body as you begin to perspire lightly. “You don’t normally come into the women’s bedrooms without permission. You said that it’s not of a gentleman’s nature to do so without courting her...”

He nods lightly, inclining his head towards you as he places his microphone to the side. “You’re correct,” Alastor’s eyes are on you again, glowing lightly as his grin sharpens. “And I am here particularly to court you. Although... it seems I may have interrupted a private matter.”

You flushed, and looked away. “Yeah, you have. Is that why you were acting a bit weird?”

Alastor huffed. “Weird?” His fluffy ears drew back against his head as he rolled his eyes, his grin still present. “I was not acting in an abnormal way.”

Feeling bold, you decide to wake the lion in the den with some teasing. “Oh? Am I supposed to believe that, Al? Obviously, something is up. You’re acting weird around me.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared up at him.

“Watch your mouth, dear. I will not be kind to you if you keep talking.”

You snort. “How are you going to shut me up, hm? Is the big, bad Radio Demon going to broadcast my screams? Going to make me beg for forgiveness? Are you going to try and take my soul? Huh?” You’re not sure why you’re so emboldened, and why you’re trying to get a rise out of the one sinner who can kill you in an instant, yet you feel thrilled when you see his brows furrow.

His antlers grew in size, and his eyes became radio dials as his large size towered your smaller frame. His grin was so wide, you felt your heart stop for a moment as his claws dug deep into the side of your pillow, right by your head. 

Alastor watched you yelp in fear, and he can almost smell the way your blood was pumping, the way you began to clam up. “Done?” He spoke slowly, as you nodded. “Good.”

Instead of shifting to his regular form, he just snapped his fingers, and you let out a high pitched squeal when your pajamas disappeared from your body. You were left stark naked, and Alastor only gave you a look, as if to punish you for your behavior. 

“Bad girls don’t get to orgasm once and be done with it.” A tentacle shot out from his back as his shadow self held your legs in order to stop any potential movement you may make. “You’ll take what I give you. And you have made me very upset, (Name).”

You whimpered, but he ignored it, instead pulling a chair up and sitting right next to the bed. His tentacle then went straight to your awaiting cunt, rubbing from the opening of your tight pussy to the tip of your clit. 

Twisting, you let out another squeaky noise, eyes wide and face flushed. Alastor peered at you, but you only let out a gasping ‘green’ as the tentacle plunged deep in you. You shifted again, trying to make the appendage go deeper into you.

“Needy? I barely touched you.” He smirked at your writhing form, the way your hair was splayed against the pillows. Your hips began to buck upwards, trying to get closer to the base of the tentacle. “Who were you thinking of?”

You sobbed out in pleasure, feeling your abdomen tighten as a second appendage began to rub at your clit at a fast pace. “W-what? What are you-” You interrupted yourself with another pleading moan exiting your mouth. 

Alastor rubbed your legs slowly, humming. “When you were masturbating.”

“Before you arrived?” You moaned out, an arm over your head as you hiccuped. “I- It’s embarrassing. This is embarrassing.” You told him, trying to keep your noises at bay. You felt your high cresting, but you didn’t want to cum so quickly. The tentacles kept their touches up, and you bit your lip hard, drawing blood.

He narrowed his eyes at you, the room filling with a cursed energy as he continued his ministrations, ever so slightly speeding up as you barreled to your release. 

You orgasmed around the tentacle inside you, whimpering as the other one rubbed your clit at the same quick pace, throwing you into the side of overstimulation. Crying out, you try to push it out of the way, however two more tentacles come out to pull your arms back. You writhed, your leg automatically jolting out in response to the constant stimulation on your cunt, and you shrieked as Alastor began to tease another tentacle against your already filled pussy.

“Now who?” He inquired once again, watching as you sobbed from the pleasure, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. His erection pressed against his tight pants, but he just disregarded the pressure, focusing on the way your hair was tousled up, and the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth.

After another tortuous moment of this, you caved, bucking your hips as your lips parted. “You! You, Alastor! I was thinking- I was-” You moaned roughly, and he smirked as you tried to gain your bearings. “Mm, I was rubbing my wet cunt at the mere thought of you!” 

Humming, Alastor grasped your hips, retracting his appendages that were holding your arms down. He leaned over you, in perfect position to thrust inside if he was bare.

“You look gorgeous.” Was all he breathed out, as you shrieked when the second tentacle at your cunt thrusted inside. You instantly came, whining pathetically for more, even as you were overstimulated. 

The other appendages retracted, and he unzipped his pants to thrust his hard dick inside you. You choked on a moan at the feeling of his cock, especially considering it was thick and long due to his monstrous form. “Al- Mm, Alastor!” You keened, wrapping your trembling legs around his hips. 

With every thrust, the bed shook tremendously, causing the headboard to bang against the wall. In your lust-filled mind, you couldn’t remember how there was others in this hotel, how everyone must have woken up due to the amount of noise you were making-

“No one will see you in such a state, darling.” Alastor groaned through the heavy static in his voice. You let out a quiet whimper as he abused your cunt with sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, and you just wished he’d fill your pussy, to the point where you were stuffed full. 

You were well aware of his questioning gaze at you, and you tried your best to fight through the fucked dumb haze, swallowing a few time as you tried to move your tongue to make sounds. “Breed me,” You stuttered out, looking up at Alastor. “Breed me until I’m full, Alastor, please.”

Alastor growled, and shoved his cock deep inside you, watching as you squirted all over him and the bed from the strength of your orgasm. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, and he grunted as he pulled your hips flushed against his own, before cumming inside you.

You couldn’t even moan anymore, instead making a tired yet pleasured noise at the feel of Alastor’s thick, hot cum inside your swollen, puffy pussy.

You felt, rather than saw, Alastor slowly become his regular form. He shifted you gently, and you groaned at the way your legs ached. “Apologies, dear.” Alastor said, seeming apologetic as he kissed your sweaty forehead. “You must rest now. I believe you are properly sated?”

Smiling cheekily, you gave him a half-lidded lustful glance. “I may need some tending to, tomorrow.”

Alastor let out a small huff of amusement, smiling genuinely at you. “After I tell Charlie and the others that you’re perfectly fine.”

[pellucid-constellations]

Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

~~

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 

He had learned that early on. 

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 

But you were also his mate. 

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 

“Azriel—” 

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 

“You were talking with Rhys?” 

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 

But then Rhys decided you were needed. 

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 

“Reconsider.” 

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 

“Send Majda.” 

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 

“Rhysand.” 

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…” 

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 

“No,” he replied, quick and low. 

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 

Why couldn’t he come, again? 

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 

“Here to see us off, Az?” 

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 

So, you went to Windhaven. 

And then you came home hurt. 

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 

Azriel thought he heard you scream. 

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 

“She’s your mate?” 

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 

He was a fool. 

“Azriel?” 

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 

It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow. 

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 

“Only when I dream.” 

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

[flickering-chandelier]

It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.

Warning: Steamy at the end whoops

Word Count: 2.8k

The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.

The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.

You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.

He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.

“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.

“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.

Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”

You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”

He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”

“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”

“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.

“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”

“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.

He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”

Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”

His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”

Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.

He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.

But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.

“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”

Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.

His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.

Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.

You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.

And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.

You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”

He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”

“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.

Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.

Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.

He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.

Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”

You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.

Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.

He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.

“It’s nothing!”

He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”

His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”

“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”

He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”

“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.

Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.

“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.

Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”

“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.

You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.

“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.

The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”

“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.

“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”

You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.

Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.

The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”

“Shh.”

Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.

“Okay, what are you --”

The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.

You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.

He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.

The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.

It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…

You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.

His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.

“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.

You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.

He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.

“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.

His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.

Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.

The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.

You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.

He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.

“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.

“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.

Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…

“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.

“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.

His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.

You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.

“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.

“Please,” was all you could manage.

He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.

The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.

His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.

The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.

“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.

“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.

You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”

“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.

He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.

“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.

You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.

Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.

His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"

He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.

Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.

That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.

“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.

You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”

“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.

[livinginshambles]

You're ridiculous, you know | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Part one Masterlist

James sees you in a new light and wants to try to change the way you see him too, moment by moment. He is trying to win you over but understands that you're having a hard time believing that he's genuine about his feeling because of his sudden switch of focus from Lily to you (even though it gave him whiplash as well, but I guess he just accepted it faster.)

Notes: Best friend!James, he's less stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, fluff, pining, misunderstandings, (best) friends to lovers I guess, spelling mistakes probably because I typed this out on my phone.



______________________



With the hatch buried between you and James, you felt like you could finally properly breathe again. James had apologized again, of course and told you that he supported your new style.

Trying to balance your two friends groups however, did prove to be much more difficult than you thought. Neither of the two seemed very entertained by the thought of hanging out together as one group. Besides, James had become rather clingy as well, becoming his very own one man group to balance hanging out with.

"I now have abandonment fears," he jokingly defended when you raised your eyebrows at his arm, wrapped around your waist instead of your shoulder like usual while you two were walking down the open court yard.

"Right," you replied, seemingly not very impressed. You knew what he was trying to do, especially after your rejection. After all, save from Lily, he'd never actually been rejected. You assumed that this too, was a matter of pride. "You have nothing to prove you know," you told him and he merely hummed in reply.

"And anyway, you'll have to let me go now because my mum sent over some dresses for me. I'm planning on trying them on with the girls."

The grip on your waist tightened.

"No," he pleaded, "Don't leave me." He dramatically leaned his entire weight on you, dragging you down as well. Was he always this heavy? You incredulously thought.

"James, you'll make us both fall! Get up you're-"

"The earth is dragging me down. I can't help it, Love," he said in a playful, strained voice.

"Unless you want to spend the afternoon giving your opinion on dresses, I suggest you fight back against the earth, oh brave Gryffindor." You retorted, amusement clear in your voice.

James immediately straightened up. "Sure, I'll review your dresses," he happily replied.

‘Well’, you contemplated. You supposed it’s not as if you've never gotten dressed around eachother.”



Your mum had been very delighted at the news that she could go ahead and send over a dress through the mail. She went a tad bit overboard though, you thought as you looked at the heap of clothes on your bed.

James was sitting next to the said heap, waiting patiently for you to get changed in the bathroom. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought that he'd made things weird enough for you to want to get dressed in the bathroom. 'I mean, you've seen eachother naked before?' He thought. Not that he was aiming to see you naked of course.

His hands weaved through the beautiful clothes. He was sure they'd all look splendid on you. Would you go with him to the Yule Ball? His heart clenched. Probably not. You rejected a date with him to Hogsmeade. No way were you going to accept going to the ball together.

James stared out of the window, a lost feeling washing over him. How could he turn this around? Would you ever look at him that way?

The door opened and James' breath stopped, literally. It was simply perfect.

Mesmerizing, he thought.

'Merlin this was only the very first dress, how would his heart survive the dozen other dresses? You looked radiant. Like actually radiant. The dress made you glow with beauty and confidence. The color was what he could only describe as your color and made you look like bloody royalty.' He knew his opinion was biased, but it was still the truth, he thought.

And so his mind started racing. You were going to go to the ball, looking like that, with a date who was someone else. Jealousy flared up at the thought. He had to internally slap himself to shake him out of it.

You had taken his long silence as a negative opinion and quickly brought your arms to fold over your middle, covering yourself. "Not this one then?" You asked.

"No. I-I mean yes, sorry. I was distracted."

You felt slight disappointment at his words. Another sinking feeling in your stomach, but you reasoned with yourself that he just wasn’t used to doing this sort of activity with you. "You don't have to do this you know." You gently said and sat down next to him.

"Do you have a date to the ball?" He blurted out in response.

You were taken aback by the change of subject but shrugged. "There's been a few people who’ve asked, but I don't know. I've never talked to them before and it feels a little superficial that they only now would ask me out, just because they noticed I look and dress differently."

James could feel his heart plummet even lower if that was possible. Did you think that about him as well? You wouldn't be wrong of course. He'd only started to view you in a different light when you decided to go for a different style, and stopped only hanging out with the marauders after all. Guilt started to weigh his mind.

"Are you going to ask Lily out?" You tentatively asked.

"Of course," he automatically responded, without having processed the question. Your face fell a little. A confirmation, you thought. You were right. Maybe you'd have to accept one of the student' proposals for the Yule Ball after all.

James’ eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes when you unzipped your dress right next to him. "The bathroom?!" He sqeaked out in panic.

You put on a grin. "Well, you look like you're bored and me taking my time in the bathroom will take too long. I guess I could just very quickly change here. Besides, you've seen me naked before."

James was somehow feeling more hurt at the prospect of you getting changed in front of him, than hiding in the bathroom. It meant that you really only saw him as a friend, he sighed.

You on the other hand, decided that you were hellbent on refusing to let your dynamic with James change because of unrequited feelings.



James was lying on his bed, wide awake. He couldn't sleep, mind wandering off to you, and he rolled around in frustration at himself and yelled into his pillow. Ashamed, he looked around if the he'daccidentally woken anyone up. He didn't.

He was restless. None of his subtle advances had apparently been noticed by you. And if they had, then you'd blatantly ignored them. James wasn't sure which option he liked better.

Tears of frustration and misery welled up in his eyes. He'd seen you get asked out by three different people today, and every time, his heart would stop, scared that you'd say yes.

The past few days, his eyes couldn't leave your figure as you went off to hang out with Lily, and he cursed himself for never having noticed you, too focused on Lily. He groaned and turned around again in his bed. "You're the perfect best friend," is what you had told him this morning when he had saved you from an awkward conversation with a seventh year Ravenclaw. His stomach had dropped.

'But you agreed to hang out with just him,' he kept telling himself in reassurance. Tomorrow was finally weekend and an off day which meant it was time for your not-date. At the thought, his heart lightened, and he managed to finally fall asleep.



You really weren't complaining at all. If anything you couldn't help your body from completely leaning into James who had once again wrapped his arms around your waist. Arms that were firmly holding on to you as if to not let you leave his side.

A week had passed since he asked you out on a date, and you and James were finally off to Hogsmeade together, your own heart both seering, as well as clenching at the thought that this was merely considered 'hanging out'.

Yes, you'd very much wanted it to be a date. Exactly like James had described it. Just the two of you, together on a date, which in a way was kind of what you were doing right now, even if you denied calling it that.

And if you weren't absolutely sure that you were setting yourself up for disappointment and heartbreak at the prospect of not working out because of his feelings for Lily, you would've definitely agreed with the biggest grin on your face.

But you were sure that that's what you'd be setting yourself up for. And having conflict avoiding tendencies had you make rational decisions such as then. Besides, the fact that he was going to ask Lily out to the Yule Ball confirmed that you had made the right decision.

'Could've been a date though', your mind seemed to whisper, and you grimaced. 'And then what,' you thought. 'Even if he settles for me, it would just be unfair for both of us. He never gets to be truly happy and I never get to be truly loved.' You scoffed.

"You okay, Love?" James shook you out of your train of thoughts, a concerned look on his face and he slowed his pace to a stop to properly look at you. His hands found their way to the sides of your face, his eyes searching yours.

You turned your head to the left and stuck out your tongue. He jerked away in surprise with a loud laugh. "That's foul!" He yelled. He was about to wipe his hand on his trousers when he stopped and then looked contemplatively from his hand to you and back.

Your grin was wiped off your face at the sight of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and wasted no time to sprint off.

"You keep that hand to yourself Potter!" You shouted with a laugh.

"Absolutely not, you get back here!"

"This is a new dress, no way I'm letting you wipe your hand on it!" You quickly shot back and looked behind you to see him quickly catching up on you.

You watched with a face of disdain as he calmly wiped his hands with your sleeves, holding you in a headlock. "So unfair", you muttered.

James childishly stuck his tongue out and released you from his grasp.

It had you tumbling to the ground. "Hey!"

"Alright truce?" He asked and he stuck his hand out, both to seal the deal as well as help you up.

When you moved to shake his hand, he smirked. 'Oh so naive. You should know better.'

You noticed the trap far too late and weren't able to pull your hand back fast enough-

"James! Now that's foul!" You shrieked at his wet hand. Undoubtedly, because he'd spit in it moments before.

James was doubling over in laughter, and you took the opportunity to wipe your hands on his sweater. He let you.

“You’re ridiculous you know,” you shook your head.

“And you not at all,” he grinned. James wrapped his arms securely around your waist again, and you continued to head to Hogsmeade.



James looked at you from the bar counter. He was waiting for the drinks he ordered and admired you from afar. You were already sitting at a table in the corner for two and were munching on some snacks you had fished out of your bag, waving at him with a warm smile when you caught his gaze.

Sure, up until recently, he’d always seen you as the cool best friend that he could share everything with, tackle to the ground, tell gross jokes to, or get shirtless around when changing clothes. He was used to not at all treating you differently than Sirius, Remus or Peter, because in his eyes, you belonged to the same category.

But now, even though James also absolutely didn’t want your dynamic to change, he was conflicted because he finally saw you in a different light. He just had to try and make you see him in a different light as well.

The bartender gave him his drinks and he walked over to you with a grin. “Pick one,” he told you, still standing next to you and holding the mugs behind his back.

“Left,” you chose without hesitation. He put the mug in front of you and you looked suspiciously in the mug. At the sight of the green liquid you squinted your eyes at him. He put his own mug down and you leaned over the table to peer into it as well. Blue.

“Are you trying to poison us both?”

James snorted and sat down in front of you, “You got me.”

You kicked his leg under the table and he pretended to be in excruciating pain. “You wound me, Love,” He groaned exaggeratedly, all the way slouched down his chair and gripping his leg to sell his point.

“Want me to kiss it better?”, you teased and then immediately awkwardly paused. See this would’ve been a normal thing to say if you said this a month ago, but now it just made things weird. James however was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely soaking in the thought and cheekily replied, “Oh, darling, you must.”

‘Alright cheeky bastard’, you thought. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you moved your chair back and ducked under the table. James' eyes widened in shock, especially when you grabbed his leg.

“Drinking all by yourself?” Frank’s voice had both of you freeze up.

You moved to get up from your crouched position, planning on using a fallen hair tie as an excuse when James blurted out a different excuse. “No, just waiting for Y/N, she went to the bathroom.” You groaned and hit your head repeatedly against James’ knee.

Great, now it would be weird if you just crawled out from under the table.

“Y/N? I was actually looking for her, I mean we’re partners for potions class. You know what, I’ll just wait with you then.”

‘No!” James said, a little too loud, before he could help himself. He cleared his throat. “I mean uh,” James leaned in towards Frank and quietly, as if he was telling a secret, gleefully added, “We’re actually on a date.”

You playfully slapped his leg in a scolding manner.

Frank immediately seemed to get it and wished him good luck before leaving the table.

You scrambled out quickly and when your eyes met, you both burst out in laughter.



Despite your fear that dynamics would change and your resolve that you wouldn't allow it, you didn't mind the change so much if this was how it was going to be from now on, you thought to yourself. James had dramatically thrown himself half on top of you, head buried right under your breasts.

"Rough Quidditch practice", he'd mumbled before collapsing and absolutely melting like snow for the sun into you when you weaved your fingers through his curly locks, the other hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

When you had tried to pull your hands away to retrieve your book from the bag next to you to pass the time while James seemed passed out, James had whined in protest, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his head.

"Prongs," you tried after a long time but received no answer. you lifted your hands from his head again and finally got a grumbled "What."

"Supper,' you softly spoke.

"Five more minutes, please?"

As if you could deny that request. After another few 'five more minutes' you finally gently pushed him off, both of you sitting up. He looked around, dazed, his eyes drooping and hair messy.

You entered the great hall with James trailing behind you, holding your hand. Peter spotted you and waved you over. James squished himself between Sirius and you, ignoring the other spot front of you that the marauders had saved for him.

"Blimey Y/N, what have you done with Prongs?!" Sirius asked, a horriefied expression adorning his face when James lazily rested his face in your neck. You laughed at his antics and shrugged, getting complaints from James at your movements.

Remus handed you two plates of food. "We saved these for you two."

"Thanks Moony," you gratefully accepted them and poked James with a fork. "Eat, you big baby," you said and pushed the fork in his hand. James internally groaned. But he was so comfortable like this. Why couldn't he just stay like this forever? He reluctantly sat up straight and started eating. He was hungry after all.

"Hey Potter, mind if we steal Y/N for a second?"

"Go away McKinnon," he was quick to respond and stuck out his tongue pettily. "She stays with me, you already had her the entire day."

You amusedly watched them banter. "I think you'll find that I will choose myself where I go, Prongs." And got up from your seat, moving down the long table to sit next to Lily.

"So what the hell was that Prongs?" Sirius inquired as soon as you were out of hearing range. Peter and Remus curiously looked at him.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you guys that I fancy Y/N?"

"Yeah that too, even if it was absolutely obvious," Peter shrugged.

Remus laughed at James' gaping expression. "What Padfoot meant was are you guys like a thing now? Like did we miss something? I thought you said she kinda rejected a date with you?"

James sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, she did." He straightened up again. But I'm working on it though."

Lily nudged you. "So I don't know if I should thank you or pity you."

"Huh?"

"I mean, thank you for getting James to stop pursuing me, but I'm sorry you have to deal with him now," she laughed.

Marlene wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Unless you don't mind having to deal with him of course," she smirked. "You looked pretty comfy," she added.

Alice nodded her head in agreement. "Frank told me you two went on a date last week apparently."

Your friends gasped dramatically and you were quick to deny it. "No, James just said that so Frank would leave us alone," you said and swatted Dorcas when she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Ugh, you guys, be nice to me," you complained while laughing. "We're just friends hanging out, besides he still likes you Lils, look he's still staring at you," you said that last part with a sigh.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Not at me, he's not." She nudged you again. "Look," she urged you.

You turned your head to look at James and your eyes met. He couldn't help but wink and felt very victorious when you looked away flusteredly, a big smile on your face.

'Could it be?'



Over the course of the next few weeks, James and you had gotten a lot closer. By now, you and James walked through the hallways, his hand always touching you somehow, whether he was holding yours, had his arm slung around your shoulders, waist, or lower back.

You also found yourself hanging around the boys dormitory alone with James more often than ever before. You were laying horizontally across his bed, your head hanging off the side of the bed. James went to the bathroom and you were passing the time.

You kept sliding forward bit by bit and when you were hanging low enough to look under James' bed, a brilliant plan to jumpscare him popped up in your brain. Perfect. You quickly moved to hide under his bed. Your hands ready to grab his ankles when he returned.

The door opened and you held your breath in anticipation. You peeked from underneath the drapes, covering your body and saw him look around surprisedly before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

He called out your name to be certain and when you didn't respond, he pumped his fist excitedly and hurried to hide inside the wardrobe on the other side of the room, undoubtedly having the same idea as you and you couldn't suppress your laugh anymore. You rolled out from under the bed grinning like an idiot.

James joined you on the floor, although he did seem a little bit bummed out that he hadn't been able to prank you. "I guess genius recognizes genius," he admitted with a laugh.

"I have to go to the library to study," you bit your lip while you said it. Disappointed at the thought of breaking the peace.

James turned his head and looked over at you. You were so close. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relishing in the moment of having you within arms reach like that.

When he reopened his eyes, they flickered over your face and rested a little longer on your lips. It wouldn't take more than him leaning in to easily capture your lips and it took everything in him not to. It almost pained him literally. You turned your head towards James due to the lack of response, checking if everything was alright and if he had heard you when you said you needed to go.

"You're mesmerizing," he whispered softly, the words always on the back of his mind since he saw you in the first dress. You chuckled at that. "Using big words now, huh," you whispered back teasingly, a fond expression on your face.

"No, really."

Those two words left you speechless in surprise. You don't know what it was. Perhaps the sincerity on his face or in his tone. Perhaps the way he emphasized that he really meant it. Or maybe even the way he was looking at you right then. 

Whatever it was, it made you throw your reservations and resolve straight out of the window.

Rational decisions were the last thing on your mind when your eyes locked with James' and then you were both leaning in, meeting each other halfway in a soft, fleeting kiss.

"I think you're mesmerizing as well," You murmured against his lips and you could feel them curl up in a smile.



"You're such an arsehole," you laughed, slapping his ice cold hands away. You ended up not going to the library to study. After all, who needs studying anyway? Instead you and James had curled up against each other on his bed, entangled together and James decided to slide his freezing hands under your shirt, resting on your stomach.

"No, I'm mesmerizing," he huffed and attempted to warm his hands again.

"Did you even wash your hands when you returned from the bathroom?"

There was a long pause and you stared up at him incredulously. "James Potter! You are disgusting," you exclaimed.

“Oh don’t tell me you’ve never forgotten to wash your hands after going to the toilet!”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to hold the- the thing.”

James laughed loudly.

“You suck,” you huffed.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I can't be that bad, I won you over in less than a month," he wore a triumphant smile on his face and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off. You didn't of course, and instead buried your face in his neck in embarrassment while grumbling about arrogance. You two hadn't really talked about the kiss that happened 10 minutes prior.

Absolutely refusing to let you pull back mentally and physically, James had been quick to mention how uncomfortable your position on the floor really was, and he proposed to lay down on his bed instead where he changed the topic while still getting comfortable with you. It was his way of letting you know that he wasn't trying to skim over the fact that you kissed or ignore the fact that it happened, but rather that he wanted to ease the tension by doing so.

You were relieved and thankful for him, knowing that that tension would have absolutely made things too awkward for you, and that you would've definitely fled from the room in denial.

"I think I fancy you, James," you eventually quietly admitted to him, your voice muffled as your face was still hidden away.

His grip on you tightened and he pulled you even closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yeah?" he breathed out, his heart soaring.

"Yeah."

"I fancy you too, Love." And with that you tilted your head up far enough to place your lips in a firm kiss right under his jaw.

There was another comfortable silence and then, "So, how about a proper date. You and me, us, together." He quickly clarified the last part.

You laughed out loud. "Yes please, Hogsmeade?"

"Actually, I was thinking maybe the Yule Ball."

[yourejinx]

Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule. 

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house. 

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly. 

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled. 

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside. 

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly. 

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you. 

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it. 

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him. 

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.  

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off. 

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you. 

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?” 

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter. 

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes. 

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.  

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.” 

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body. 

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly. 

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins. 

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features? 

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him. 

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous. 

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan. 

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.” 

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry  in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful. 

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly. 

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing. 

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?” 

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.” 

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear. 

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath. 

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss. 

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him. 

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet. 

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you. 

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.” 

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere. 

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure. 

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy. 

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,”  you whined prettily, eyes locking with his. 

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him. 

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again. 

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you. 

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling. 

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep. 

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further. 

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly. 

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up. 

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost. 

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him. 

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit. 

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you. 

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his. 

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls. 

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.” 

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone. 

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support. 

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.” 

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted,  desperately wanting to please him. 

“Good girl.” 

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed. 

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder. 

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face. 

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.” 

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever. 

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him. 

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?” 

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison. 

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse. 

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled. 

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass. 

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck. 

“How does a second round sound?” You purred. 

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.” 

[hoejosatoru]

Roster Hopper

Pairings: Fem!Reader x College Au Karasuno players (separately, except for Tsuki & Yamaguchi)

Summary: You make a bet with your best friend and co manager that you can sleep through the entire Karasuno roster, without the team finding out. 

Word Count: 8.4k

Warning: reader having sex with entire team lmfao, maybe reader is slightly manipulative at times? I don’t think so but tagging just incase, oral (fem receiving) in multiple different positions, light spanking, p in v sex in different positions, men whimpering lol, oral (male receiving), fingering, thumb in ass, squirting, spit, sorta voyeurism, threesome (Tsuki and Yams) virginity loss (Yams), semi public sex, brief drinking mention MDNI

A/n: Changed my original idea to just y/n trying to go through the roster bc you plus a friend is a lot and trying to write around the team not finding out would be hard SO here we are. Y/f/n = your friends name. I didn’t want to have to think of a random name. If you don’t have someone you can just slot in Kiyoko or something. I also bolded each players name so if you want to skip to a specific dude, hopefully it is easier to find. Enjoy!

“How long have they been at it?” you asked your friend as you were filling up water bottles for the third time this practice. If you weren’t so used to the sound of volleyballs being smacked around, it would probably have driven you crazy by now. It was your second year as Karasuno University’s volleyball team manager and you loved it. Water bottle fill up runs and all.

“Too long,” your friend replied, “I don’t get where they get the energy from. I’m tired just watching them.”

“Same.” You screwed the last bottle shut. “But the first years are really good. I think we have a shot this year.”

“Oh without a doubt,” y/f/n’s nodded. “And if they keep practicing like this they’ll only get better. They’re pretty cute too, not that is going to help them win games.”

You laughed. “I was waiting for your say something.” Your voice dropped a little, so none of the boys could overhear you. Not that they were really paying attention to either of you at the moment. Volleyball is life and all. “We have a really cute team, don’t you think?”

Your friend nodded and whispered back. “For sure. Who do you think is the cutest?” This is why you were glad you convinced your best friend to manage with you. Nothing passed time like gossiping about boys with a friend.

“Hmm,” you considered, “Kageyama is cute. But you know how I like dark haired guys. Nish too. Never thought I would think a short guy was so hot. Don’t tell him I said that.” You didn’t want to offend him, but you had a sneaking suspicion all he would care about was that you called him hot. Him and Tanaka were a bit girl-crazy. They were the only players that shameless flirted with you and your friend. You liked that about them; it was fun.

“No, for real! I think Asahi has to be the cutest though,” you friend replied. 

You nodded. They were all pretty good looking guys, so you couldn’t argue. “But the real question is, who do you think is the best in bed?”

Your friend took a second to think about it before answering. “Daichi.”

“Really?”

Your friend shrugged. “I mean he’s one of the oldest, so he’s probably got experience. Plus he’s the captain.”

You snorted. “What does being captain of a volleyball have to do with being good in bed?”

Your friend huffed in faux annoyance. “Well it makes sense in my head. Who do you think then?”

“Honestly maybe Nishinoya.”

“I think you just have a crush on him.”

“Shut up. But also Sugawara. It’s the quiet ones you gotta look out for, you know?”

Your friend nodded. “Totally. Maybe we gotta hunt down their past hook ups and do a survey.” You both laughed, drawing the attention of Tanaka.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing!” You both answered in unison, before turning your back to the court to laugh more. As ridiculous as the conversation was, it sparked your curiosity. You couldn’t deny that you'd thought about hooking up with some of the players. You watched them run around and get sweaty for hours everyday, what else were you supposed to think about? You’d never actually done it, though, not wanting to ruin any friendships with the guys. They could be a rowdy bunch, but you did love them dearly. 

That, however, didn’t stop you from hatching a crazy idea. “What if we didn’t need other people to find out.”

Your friend’s eye brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I will do all the research,” you replied. She gave you a look that told you she still didn’t understand what you meant. “I sleep with all of them and then we’ll know who the best.”

Y/f/n looked at you like you were crazy. Which, to be fair, maybe you were. “You can’t be serious. All of them?”

“Well not at the same time,” you replied, like a smart ass. Your friend rolled her eyes. 

“Obviously. But that’s still crazy! There’s so many of them.”

“There’s not that many. Just nine of them. Give me the whole school year and I could do it,” you responded. 

“No way you can,” she replied. 

“Wanna bet?” You challenged.

“Absolutely,” your friend replied, “500 bucks says you can’t sleep through the team by the end of the school year.” Damn 500? But a big challenges calls for big stakes. 

“You're on.” You shook hands. “Now let’s figure out the rules.”

After a little discussion you both agreed that besides the obvious of having to get through the 9 players by the last day of school, they couldn’t find out about what was going on. If you were to tell them about the challenge, some of the players might do it just to help you. You had to get them in bed organically. Additionally, you couldn’t request certain sex acts. You both wanted to know how they tried to please women without any bias. If you started telling them what to do, it would mess with the data. Because this is super scientific, obviously.

Y/f/n allowed you one get out of jail free card if someone found out, but it had to be contained to the one person. If the whole team finds out, game over. You didn't need to provide any proof, but you did have to share your ranking with y/f/n at the end, which you were more than happy to. Any other issues that came up, you both agreed to figure out as needed. Simple enough.

“I’m not even going to bother asking you who you think will be the easiest,” your friend said. Both your eyes floated over to Nishinoya and Tanaka, making you both snicker. “But who do you think will be the hardest?”

“Daichi for sure,” you replied, “Doesn’t seem like he’s a hook up guy, but we’ll see. And Tsuki, just cause he can be a jerk.”

Your friend snickered. “He seems like the type who wants spank girls and make them call him daddy.”

You grinned. “I guess we will find out.”

A week later you were at party hosted at the team house. It was the perfect venue to make your first move. Only the upperclassmen could live in the house, but during parties the whole team plus many others were invited. Tonight’s party was particularly crowded, being that it was still early in the year and most people didn’t have much work to do yet. The crowd would make it easier for you to sneak away unnoticed, even with other teammates around.

You set your sights on Nishinoya first. You figured he’d be easy to get in bed, plus maybe you did have a little crush on him. You were super keen on finding out how he was in bed. Maybe it was because of the drink you had, but you were feeling bold. You decided to take a super straight forward, simple approach with Noya.

“Noya, do you want to have sex with me?” you asked when you managed to pull him to a private corner of the party. You almost laughed at how his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Are you serious? Tanaka didn’t, but you up to this as a joke, did he?” he asked.

“I promise he didn't,” you replied. “Just think you’re cute. Do you wanna?”

Nishinoya thought this was better than his birthday and winning nationals combined. “Fuck yes I do. When?”

You giggled at his enthusiasm. It was so endearing. “Right now?”

God he really was a lucky guy, he thought. “Fuck.” He chugged the rest of his beer for good measure. “Yeah let’s fucking do it.” You looked around to make sure no one was watching, before slipping up the stairs to his room. Luckily, his bedroom was on the second floor, which no one really came to. The parties stay in the basement or on the main floor, so you felt safe now that you made it up unnoticed.

The second he closed the door to his room, you pounced on him. You couldn’t help yourself. To be fair, it was very much a mutual pounce. Nishinoya kissed you eagerly, bordering on desperate, but in the best way. You pulled away, both of you breathing heavy.

“Before we do this, do you mind if this stay between us?” You asked, batting your eyes innocently at him. He was putty in your hands at this point; you knew he would agree to anything to get in your pants. “I don’t want it to be weird if the other guys found out.”

“Of course, I won’t tell anybody,” he nodded. You were back to kissing him, very desperately now. You were still standing by his door, pulling clothing off each other. Instead of wasting two steps to get to the bed, Noya just spun your around and bent you over the dresser right there. He was not a patient man and you were not complaining. 

He slid your underwear odd, cursing. “Fuck you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to do this,” he cursed. You giggled, glad your crush had been reciprocated. Before you could get any words out, Noya was on his knees behind you, burying his face in your pussy. You gasped in surprised as he licked up your arousal, his tongue sliding through your puffy lips. 

“Fuck Noya!” you cried as he sucked on your clit. His hands massaged your thighs and ass, keeping you spread for him. He hummed and groaned into your cunt as he ate you out, clearly enjoying it very much. Much like when he kissed you, it was eager and desperate and so fucking good. It didn’t take long before you were cumming all over his tongue.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gushed, wiping your release off his face. He dug a condom out of the top dresser drawn, grinning eagerly at you.

“And you’re so fucking good at that,” you replied.

“I’m even better at this,” he replied, sinking his cock into you. Your body arched, surprised by the stretch. Noya’s thrusts were rough and frantic, clearly chasing after his high. He gripped your ass tightly, giving it a few smacks, but nothing too hard. You pressed your body back against him, loving that he wasn’t afraid to go for it. Your fingers scratched along the wood of his dresser as you tried desperately to hold on.

It was no use, though. Within minutes you were moaning his name and cumming on his cock. Noya, who was overjoyed he didn’t bust the second his slid in, let himself go the second he felt your velvety walls clench around him.

“Fuck, y/n, so fucking good.” 

You gave Nishinoya a long thank you kiss before getting dressed. You agreed to go down first and then he’d come down a few minutes later so it wouldn’t be obvious you were together. You left his room grinning. And just like that, one was crossed off the list.

A week later you decided to try your luck again. Tanaka mentioned he was going to check out a frat party and you asked for a ride there, which he happily agreed to. As far as you knew no one else on the team was going to this party, so it would be the perfect opportunity to cross him off the list.

The party sucked; it was way too crowded and the music choices were awful. Not to mention, the house was a mess. It made the volleyball house look spotless in comparison. It worked in your favor, though, as Tanaka was more than happy to take you up on your suggestion to chill in his car.

“Dude I thought frat parties were supposed to be the best,” he said, closing the car door behind him.

“Did you see the bathroom? That shit had to be a biohazard,” you replied. 

Tanaka laughed and nodded. “So gross. Sorry I dragged you here.”

“No worries, I wanted to,” you replied. You gave him a faux shy look. “I just wanted to hangout with you, honestly.”

Tanaka perked up. “Really?”

“Really.” And since being so honest worked the first time, you figure why not just go for it again. “Would it be weird if I said I was trying to get in your pants.”

Tanaka blinked at you, certain he didn’t hear you right. “You wanna get in my pants?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head. “No that’s a good thing! A great thing.” 

“So...” your eyes flicked down to his lap. “Can I?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?” you replied. “We are in a dark spot. Your windows are tinted. No one will see.” You leaned in a little further, letting him peek down your shirt. “It will be fun, don’t you think?”

Tanaka did not need any convincing. Fucking his hot manager in his car? He may have dreamed about this exact scenario. Literally. Tanaka pushed back his seat as far as it would go and helped you climb on top. The way he kissed you was so similar to Noya you had to bite back a laugh.

You wasted no time pulling your top off, which Tanaka was very happy about. His face was in your tits before you could even get your shirt fully off. He sucked at the sensitive skin, flicking your nipples with his tongue. His hands gripped your tits roughly, but not unpleasantly. You rocked your hips against his,  letting out a hum of pleasure. Tanaka was already hard underneath you.

“I could die happy right now,” he mumbled against your tits, making you laugh.

“At least fuck me first,” you replied, half joking. But also half serious because you were on a mission. 

Tanaka took that as instruction. “Shit, I got you.” He pulled his cock out of his pants then cursed. “I don’t have a condom.” 

“Don’t worry, I brought one.” You fished it out of your purse and handed it over.

“Damn you really were trying to get in my pants huh?”

You smiled. “Maybe.” 

Tanaka rolled the condom on, then pushed your skirt up and underwear to the side. He let his tip run through the slick before slowly pressing into you. He hissed a little, feeling your pussy suck him in. Once he was all the way in, you pressed your hands against his chested and rolled your hips. 

“Fuck, just like that,” Tanaka groaned, watching where his cock disappeared inside you. His hands ran along your hips and ass, helping you rock yourself on him. He leaned in, continuing to suck on your tits. The car windows fogged, the small space filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his cock thrusting into your wet pussy.

Tanaka wasn’t one to make the woman do all the work, so he planted his feet on the car floor bucked his hips up to meet yours. The deep spot he hit made your head fall back. “Tana-nngh-” your words were cut off by a cry of pleasure. You creamed around him, setting him over the edge. He spilled into the condom while groaning into your chest.

“Tanaka, can you do something for me?” you asked once you caught your breath. He was still buried inside you.

“I’d do anything you ask me right now, not gonna lie,” He replied. 

You laughed, even though he wasn’t joking. “Don’t tell anyone we hooked up. I just don’t want the other guys judging me, you know?”

“It’s in the vault,” Tanaka replied seriously. “And if you ever want to do that again, please call me.”

Two down, seven to go.

Your next opportunity didn’t come until about a month later. You were alone with Asahi in the library studying for midterms coming up. “I need a break,” Asahi sighed, pushing his books away from him.

There was your opening. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” You replied. “My roommate is away right now. Wanna go back to my dorm and watch a movie?” You gave him a look that hinted that maybe it wasn’t just a movie on your mind.

Asahi blushed. “I-I don’t want to intrude.”

You waved him off. “You won’t be. C’mon it will be fun.” With that, you both packed up your things and headed to your dorm. You told Asahi he could sit on your bed while you set up the movie. He sat on the edge of your bed, looking a little nervous. It made you laugh that such a large, handsome man was easily flustered. “Relax, Asahi, you can lay down if you want.”

You hopped on the bed, laying down in front of him. You were in the spooning position, but not touching. You rectified that by slowing drifting closer to him. When your ass met his front, you wiggled as innocently as you possible could. You could feel Asahi shift nervously, though he unmistakably pressed closer to you. It wasn’t long before you could feel something hard poking at your ass. 

“I can feel that, Asahi,” you teased.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I didn’t mean-”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, “I don’t mind.” You reached back, taking his hand in yours and leading it down into your leggings. “Maybe this will make you feel better.” You guided his hand to your pussy, letting him feel your wetness. He let out a low groan. You took your hand away, letting him touch you how he pleased.

“Do... do you want me to...” Asahi trailed off as he continued to play with your pussy. 

“I think you know what I want, Asahi,” you purred his name. He cursed into your hair, breathing in the sweet scent. He brushed it aside, kissing your neck a little. You titled your head, allowing him better access. Then you got needy, so you craned your head back, allowing you two to kiss. He a gentle kisser, sweet and passionate. His hand slid up your shirt, giving your breasts a few soft squeezes. “Do you have a condom?”

Asahi’s cheeks tinted but he nodded. “In my wallet, yeah.” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling the little foil out. You wiggled your ass agains him, urging him on. He slipped his cock out of his pants, rolling the condom on. His tip nudged at your aching hole. “You sure?”

“Please.” Asahi slid into you slowly, letting you adjust. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you to him while he thrusted into you. You arched your back, getting him deeper.

“Y-you feel good,” he mumbled against your neck. You quickly learned that Asahi was not shy about moaning. Hell, he was practically whining as your swirled your hips. He was so close to your ear, the sound giving you goose bumps. It was fucking hot. When he slid his hand down and started rubbing your clit it was your tone to moan.

“Asahi don’t stop,” you said breathlessly. 

“Fuck I think I’m gonna-” His voice broke off in a low groan as you felt his cock twitch inside you. He didn’t stop fucking you even as he came, which pushed you over the edge. A warm rush filled your body as you finished. You finally turned around, giving him a soft peck. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Don’t be silly, I really enjoyed it,” you assure him. “But if it’s okay with you, let’s not tell anyone we did this. You know how the guys are. If they found out...”

Asahi nodded in agreement. He definitely didn’t need his teammates knowing he came quick. “I promise I won’t tell.”

A few days later, you were sitting in practice, reflecting on how your strategy to get through the 6 guys left. It was half way through the first semester and you only had 3 done. You weren’t too concerned yet, but you knew you couldn’t keep letting so much time pass between each guy. You were so deep in thought that you didn’t notice Tsukki come up beside you.

“I know what you’re up to.”

You startled, giving him a confused look. “Huh?” 

“You’ve been hooking up with the guys on the team.” It wasn’t a question.

You tried to keep your voice even, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tsukki rolled his eyes. “Don’t play stupid. I saw you leave the library with Asahi last week. Then earlier in the semester you were sneaking around parties with Noya and Tanaka.”

You raised a brow. “You stalking me or something?”

“We are in the same friend group at a small university, it’s not that hard to put together. If you have half a brain at least,” Tsukki replied. “I just don’t understand why.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Your back was to the wall, you had to tell him. “It’s for a bet. To see if I can hook up with the entire team by the end of the year.” It felt stupid saying it out loud, especially with Tsukki’s judgmental eyes watching you.

“So why are you hiding it? I’m sure these idiots would be more than happy to sleep with you for whatever reason,” Tsukki replied.

“I can’t it’s part of the rules,” you explained, “So if you tell anybody I’m totally fucked.”

“I’d say you’re already quite fucked,” Tsukki replied with a shit eating grin.

“Haha,” you replied dryly, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, don’t blow this for me.” He went to open his mouth but you cut him off. “And no blow job jokes.” His mouth shut, but you could see the gears turning.

“So you kinda owe me a favor, don’t you?”

“If you’re going to ask me to sleep with you, don’t bother. It’s already a part of the plan unfortunately,” you replied.

“Ouch,” he yawned. “But that’s not what am I asking. At least not exactly. I want a three way with Yamaguchi.”

You were shocked but also not at the request. You knew they were best friends, but they seemed like they would be completely different in bed. “Have you told Yams about me hooking up with the other guys?”

“No, I figured I’d keep my mouth shut until I had more information,” Tsukki replied. “But I’ve been trying to help Yams lose his virginity. This seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“Wow what a selfless friend you are,” you replied sardonically

Tsukki shrugged. “I can admit I want to try a three way for selfish reasons, too. What guy doesn’t.”

“And you think Yams wants to lose his virginity with you there?”

“Yeah, he’ll be less nervous. I promise I won’t tell him or anyone else about your stupid bet if you do this.” You agreed. Although Tsukki was annoying, you couldn’t deny that a 2 for 1 would help a lot. You just had to text your friend to make sure it was within the rules.

Y/f/n: hmm I think as long as neither of them no what it’s for, one three way can be allowed

Y/n: Tsukki knows. that asshole figured it out. I have to use my get out of jail card on him -_-

y/n: but Yams doesn’t know, Tsukki will make up some other story to tell him

y/f/n: As long as Tsukki doesn’t tell Yams and no one else finds out then I think it’s fine. Good luck with that lmao 

A week later you were in Tsukki and Yams’ shared dorm room. They’d pushed their beds together for the occasion, which was honestly quite funny. Tsukki looked almost bored and Yamaguchi looked nervous. Typical. 

One thing led to another and you were on their combined beds kissing Yamaguchi while Tsukki pulled your bottoms off. For his lack of experience, Yams was a good kisser. Definitely a little nervous, but sweet. You went at his pace, twisting your fingers through his hair making his breath catch.

“Watch this, Yamaguchi. You have to get her nice and wet before putting it in,” Tsukki told his friend. His fingers were rough and warm as he dragged them through your lips. He rubbed circles over your clit, making sure his friend knew that spot was very important. His long fingers easily slid inside you, pressing spots that were hard for you to reach. You let out a little gasp, which made him smirk. “Take over for me Yams, you gotta practice.” 

They swapped places, Tsukki slipping his cock out when he reached you. “Suck me off.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A please would be nice.”

Tsukki gave you a fake smile. “Please suck me off.” You didn't bother arguing, taking his cock in your mouth instead. He was annoyingly big. Maybe the biggest you had yet. Asahi may have been thicker, but Tsukki was definitely longer. You used your hand on his base while your lips and tongue focused on his tip. Meanwhile, Yams was getting the hang of fingering you. He copied Tsukki exactly, his whole face and chest flushed at the sight of your wet pussy sucking in his fingers. Your moan vibrated through Tsuki’s dick as he hit a sweet spot. 

“Fuck,” the blond cursed, pulling out of you. He didn’t want to cum just yet. “Move Yams, let me show you how to fuck her.”

Yamaguchi’s face flushed a deeper shade of red. “Okay.” Tsukki spread your legs  open after slipping a condom on. He pressed inside you slowly and you so badly did not what to gratify him with a moan, but you couldn’t help but let one slip.

“Sh-should I put it in her mouth?” Yams asked. 

Tsukki shook his head. “You won’t last. You need to be hard so you can fuck her.” Yams nodded, watching his friend roll his hips into you. “I’ll make her cum so she’ll be nice and sensitive when it’s your turn.” Tsukki rocked his hips against yours, holding your thighs wide open for him. You hated to admit it, but it did feel really good. His cock, like his fingers, hit spots deep inside you. His thrusts were surprisingly heavy for his thinner frame. A damn near devious smily spread across his face as he felt your pussy clenching around him. He rubbed your clit with quick circles, finishing you off.

“Fuck!” you cried, your head falling back on the pillow. Pleasure pulsed through you as Tsukki fucked you through your high. He pulled himself out of you with a hiss, stopping himself from finishing. He wanted to do that in your mouth. 

“Your turn Yams.” Tsukki yanked his friend down between your legs. Yams cock ached as he look at your fucked out expression. He couldn’t believe he was going to lose his virginity to the hot older manager. He said a silent prayer that he didn’t cum the second he put it in. 

You sensed his nerves and comforted him. “Don’t worry, Yams, you’ll do good. Let me.” You took the condom out of his shaking hands and rolled it onto him. He whimpered a little, sensitive to even your touch. “Whenever you’re ready, yeah?”

He nodded, holding your thighs like Tsukki did and slowly pressed inside you. He slid in easily, thanks to Tsukki. He let out a whine feeling your warm, wet walls squeeze him. He tried not to focus to hard on that as he rolled his hips into you. You were extra sensitive, just as Tsukki said, making each movement feel extra good.

“So good, Yamaguchi.” You had no problem encouraging the younger guy. You always thought he was sweet. “Doing so good.” Yams blushed and kept it going. 

“Now, where were we?” Tsukki asked, an obnoxious ring in his voice. You rolled your eyes at him but took his cock back in your mouth without protested. You took him deeper, urged on by how his composure cracked. Your tongue ran along the vein on the underside, making him curse. Yams continued to rut desperately into you, making you moan onto Tsukki. You emphasized the sound both for Yams’ confidences and to break down Tsukki. 

Tsukki used his free hands to play with your tits. He gave your nipples a hard squeeze, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made you cum again. Yams cried out your name, summing the second your walls pulsed around him. Tsukki’s hips twitched as your lips tightened, spilling into your mouth. Everyone was a panting mess by the end. 

“Thanks, y/n,” Yams said as you finished getting dressed. “And I won’t tell anybody, I swear.” You exchanged a look with Tsukki, who nodded a silent agreement that he would continue to keep his mouth shut. You couldn’t help but smile as you left; you were over halfway done.

You went the rest of that semester without crossing anyone else off the list. You were okay with that, though, since you were still on track. Your next opportunity came during the last week of the winter break. Practice had started again, but not everyone was back to campus yet meaning they were smaller. And meaning  Hinata was more desperate for someone to stay and throw him extra tosses.

“Sure Hinata, I’ll help you out,” you agreed. Everyone else had cleared out of the gym, glad to not be the one Hinata targeted. You tossed him for awhile, admiring the strength of the small first year. He was the biggest wildcard to you. You weren't sure if he was gonna be really good or really bad.

“Ugh, I need to get stronger,” Hinata grumbled after his last spike. It looked plenty strong to you, but it gave you an idea.

“I've heard increasing testosterone can make you stronger,” you replied, tossing up another ball for him.

“Really? How can I do that?” 

“Having is sex is one way.” Hinata dropped out of the air, the ball you tossed bonking him in the head. You laughed at the surprised look on his face.

“Sex?”

“Have you not heard of it?” you teased.

Hinata grumbled, “I have! I just didn’t know it could help like that.”

You shrugged. “That’s just what I’ve heard at least.” You took a step closer to Hinata, looking him in the eye. “We should give it a try.”

Hinata’s eyes widened. “Wait are you serious? Like right now?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it and see if your spike gets better.” You knew he couldn’t resist the offer, which he did not. Hinata practically pounced on you. Have sex with he pretty manager AND improve his spike? Sounds good to him. You were all over each other as you got down to the floor. Clothes flying off as you went. You weren’t sure why you felt so particularly excited, maybe it was the risk of getting  caught. All you knew is that you suddenly wanted Hinata badly. 

Hinata was just as eager with you, his hands all over you. His kisses were a little sloppy with need, but you loved it. Your tongues mixed slid your hands over his toned torso. Hinata bunched up his t shirt and put it under his head like pillow. He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you up his body. “Sit on my face?”

How could you say no to that. The second your pussy made contact with his mouth he was all over it. His tongue pressing into your soaked entrance, then his lips sucking your aching clit. You forgot yourself, rocking your hips against his face, though Hinata didn’t mind one bit. He loved how your plush thighs squeezed his face as you chased your high. 

It didn’t take long for it strike you, swift and strong as lightning. You bit down on your lip as your moaned his name, trying to not alert anyone who may be walking outside what was going on in the gym. Hinata lapped up every bit of release before you slid off him. In an instant he had you flipped over, with him now on top. 

“You taste good,” he grinned, his lips shining with your release. You pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on him. “I think I have a condom in my gym bag, give me a sec.” And he really meant ‘a sec.’ Hinata was back at one top of you in a flash, rolling a condom onto his hard length. You didn’t get how he was so damn fast.

You both let out content sighs as Hinata pressed into you. Hinata fucked you hard and fast. He just couldn’t hold himself back when he felt your velvety walls wrapped around him. You were not surprised by his energy in the slightest, but you were surprised by his strength.

“Nngh- Hinata! Right there,” you moaned. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him close to you. With just a few more heavy thrusts, your orgasm was milking his cock. Hinata’s head fell back while he filled the condom with his release. A mixture of a moan and a whine slipped from his parted lips. 

When you were both redressed, Hinata was already asking for a toss to see if worked. You couldn't help but laugh. Only Hinata would be thinking about volleyball after sex. You indulged him, tossing the ball, which he rocketed over the net.

“Holy shit! You were right y/n, that was so much better!’” Hinata beamed.

“I knew you could do it!” you replied, “But can I ask you not to tell anyone we just did that. If the other players found out, they may pester me to help them like that too.” Hinata agreed, happy to have his only little secret weapon for better spikes. 

6 down, 3 left.

A week or so later, Hinata and Kageyama were bickering in practice, as they do. However, Kageyama seemed more annoyed than usual, so you decided to check in with him after practice to make sure everything was okay.

“Oh, yeah Hinata’s just been... particularly annoying,” he replied, seeming oddly nervous. Or maybe uncomfortable.

“Particularly? What do you mean?”

Kageyama shifted. “Well, he's been bragging about hooking up with this girl...” You stiffened, wondering if Hinata spilled the beans.

“What about it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“I thought he was bull shitting at first because he wouldn’t tell me who it was. But then he started going into a gross amount of detail and I knew he wasn’t lying.” You let out a sigh of relief, which Kageyama misread. “I’m sorry that was probably weird to share.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Why does it bother you so much, though?”

Kageyama blushed a little. “Well, it’s kinda of embarrassing, but Hinata and I compete about everything. He’s hooked up with 4 girls this year and I’ve only 3.  I guess it’s kinda fucked up to compete over that.” No more fucked up then your own competition, you thought.

“Not at all,” you assured him, “Friends do shit like that all the time. I’m sure those girls would have hooked up with you both either way.” In your case with Hinata, you knew it was true. They were nice, good looking guys, who wouldn't want to? “Why don’t you tell Hinata you hooked up with someone else.”

“Lying would be so lame. If he realized, I’d never live it down,” Kageyama replied.

“Who said you had to lie?”

Kageyama’s brows furrowed then raised when he realized what you mean. “Are you saying...”

“I’m saying, we hook up and then you can tell Hinata you’re back to being tied without lying,” you finished for him. “We don’t have to tell anyone either. Hinata not telling you is the perfect excuse to not tell him. He won’t have to know it was a favor.”

“Seriously? Are you sure y/n? I didn’t tell you to make you feel like you had to,” Kageyama replied. He was trying to be polite but you could tell the wheels were already spinning in his head.

“I’m sure. I’d do it even if it wasn’t for a favor.” Kageyama blushed. 

“Thank you so much.” No, thank you, you thought.

And so a few days later you found yourself in Kageyama’s dorm, sitting on his lap with your back pressed to his front. An interesting request, but you didn’t deny it. And now you were very glad you didn’t

“Fuck Kageya- oh,” your voice was a strangled moan as he played with your pussy. His calloused fingers moved expertly over your most sensitive spots. You felt almost like his opponent. You could tell he was observing you closely, noting every spot that made you tick. The whines that escaped your lips meant he found the perfect pressure to rub your aching clit. Your hips bucking showed him the sweet spot inside you that drove you crazy.

“You like that?” it was more of a statement than a question, really. He knew you loved it. All you could do was nod. Kageyama had both of his arms wrapped around you from behind. His middle two fingers on one hand plunged into your pussy, pressing your g spot. The other hand rolling your clit, driving you crazy. 

If it didn’t feel so good, you’d almost be embarrassed at how fast you came. Kageyama felt it immediately, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers. You ground against him, his erection pressing into your ass. It made you both desperate for more.

“Need you,” you gasped, reaching back to give him a squeeze through his pants. Kageyama groaned deliciously before pulling his sweats down just enough to free himself. He was riding high from just making you cum and couldn’t wait to feel your walls squeezing him. After he rolled the condom on, he angled your hips back so he could slide in. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. Even better than he imagined. You couldn’t help but immediately start rolling your hips. Kageyama sat back a moment, watching you fuck yourself on his cock. He squeezed your hips and ass, keeping your rhythm steady as you rocked your hips. 

He spread your ass a little, a gasp escaping your lips as you feel him spit on you. You did not expect that from Kageyama. His thumb circled the tight rim of your ass before pressing inside.

You cried out something incoherent as the pleasure you felt heightened. Each roll of your hips felt extra intense, now that he occupied both holes. As if that wasn’t enough, Kageyama reached forward to toy with your clit again. Your body surged with pleasure as you squeezed around his cock and thumb. Even as your orgasm hit, the pleasure didn’t subside. If anything it was build and -

“Oh god,” you whine as a gush of release left you. The composure Kageyama had been holding crumbled at the sight. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came. Even lost in his own pleasure, he never faltered, letting you ride out your high completely. You didn’t move from his lap when you finished, not trusting your legs to hold you. “Holy shit Kageyama,” was all you could manage.

“Was that good?” This time the question sounded genuine. You almost laughed, as it sounded like how he asked the spikers if they liked his set.

“Very good.”

Two to go.

You debated saying fuck the whole competition and going back to Kageyama for seconds. It wasn’t against the rules, technically, but your competitive spirit kept you from straying from the goal. Besides you really wanted that $500. Still, you hadn’t pursued either Sugawara or Daichi yet, knowing you’d have to be careful with them. They weren't as easily... won over as the others. Little did you know, Sugawara had his sights set on you, 

“Hey, y/n, need any help?” he asked. You were in the team’s storage room, taking account of all the equipment. It was part of your job to make sure everything was in good shape and put in orders for more as needed. Normally, your friend and co-manager helped you with the task, but she was sick, leaving it to you.

“That would be great, if you don’t mind,” you replied. Sugawara joined in organizing and taking stock of everything. The two of you chatted easily as you worked. Sugawara was one of your favorite players on the team. He was incredible kind and you appreciated his sense of humor.

“Hey, y/n, have you ever had like a bucket list? Or something like that?” Sugawara asked. 

“Sure there’s a list of things I’d like to do,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well... I’ve always thought it would be fun to hook up with someone in the team room. I guess that makes me a stereotypical jock, huh?” 

You laughed. “Oh? So did you only offer to help in hopes of getting laid?”

“No I swear, I didn’t,” he laughed, “But this does look pretty bad now.” 

“It’s all good,” you replied, “I’d be happy to help.” If only he knew how much he was help you.

Suga smiled. “I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He pressed you agains the wall, gently, and kissed you. You welcomed his soft, warm lips. His kiss was sweet and soft, but there was a hunger behind it that made your stomach flip. The next thing you knew, Suga was on his knees.

“Can I?” his warm, brow eyes looking up at you pleadingly. You nodded and he hooked his fingers into your leggings sliding them off you. Suga put one leg over his shoulder, placing a soft kisses on your inner thigh. Once he’d teased you enough, he went for your pussy. He had a gentler approach, almost like making out with your cunt, but it still drove you wild.

“Suga,” you let out a content sigh. Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him further into you. Suga hummed approvingly, loving the pretty noises you made. Your leg went weak as Suga sucked on your clit, but his grip kept your firmly upright.

“Cum for me, pretty,” Suga murmured. With the flick of his tongue you did just that. Breathless moans fell from your lips as a warm surge of pleasure filled you.  The second you finished you were pulling Suga up to kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, kissing him deeply. Your hands went to his shorts, pulling at them. Suga chuckled at you. “Lemme.” 

He pulled a condom out of his pocket before slipping his cock out. You hugged him tightly as he pushed into you. Suga rocked into you slowly at first. You kissed his neck, murmuring how good it felt. Suga hooked his hand under your knee, pressing it up so he can get deeper. The angle urged a moan from you that made his cock ache. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasped into his neck. You dug your nails into him as you reached the limits of your sensitivity. He continued as he felt your pussy tightening around him. He was panting and moaning in your ear, a sound you could only describe as pretty.

“That’s it let go for me,” he urged. You couldn't help but comply, your body going slack as your second orgasm washed over you. Sugawara sounded even prettier when he was cumming. His hips stuttered as he released, holding you close. You held each other as you caught your breath.

“This will stay between us, right?” you asked.

Suga smiled. “It will be our little secret.”

Just one left.

It was spring break and the end of the school year was on the horizon. You had a lot of big assignments due at the end of the year, opting to stay on campus to get them done. You found out Daichi was doing the same, leaving him alone at the team house for a week. You knew this was probably your only shot.

You offered to work with him so he wouldn’t be alone at the house, which he happily accepted. You spent the days being each others moral support getting through your tough assignments and insuring the other person took breaks. It did help a lot, Daichi was good at keeping you on task and you were good at helping him not over stress himself. It was the last night of break and you both finally finished your assignments. The relief was palpable, but so was the tension. You got the sense that Daichi was flirting with you at times, but he was hard to read. You were anxious to finally finish your other assignment. You knew if it didn’t happen now, it probably wouldn’t at all. 

“So how should we celebrate?” you asked. You were sitting on this counter, swinging your legs idly. 

Daichi looked at you, catching something suggestive in your voice. “Sounds like you have an idea.” He held your gaze in a way that felt like an invitation.

“Well, I have been thinking about something...” you trailed off, smirking a little.

Daichi stepped closer to you. “Oh? And what is that?” 

You leaned forward slightly, which drew Daichi closer to you. “Might be easier to show you.”

“I hope you do.” He was standing between your leg then. There was only another beat of tense silence before you pulled him in. He gripped your hips, kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting Daichi control the kiss. “Wrap your legs around me.” When you did, Daichi lifted you off the counter.

He carried you to the bedroom, placing you gently on the bed. You continued to kiss as clothing came off. Daichi slipped his fingers between your legs, sliding them into your pussy. He pumped them into you, stretching your pussy and making it slick. “You want more?” he asked against your lips. 

You nodded and he pulled a condom out of his bedside table. He put it on positioned himself between your legs. Daichi was really thick, maybe thicker than Asahi. Even with him fingering you, it was a stretch. “Fuck you’re tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out. He kissed and sucked your tits as he snapped his hips against yours. Once you got used to it, the stretch felt good. Your hips bucked up to meet his, pressing him deeper inside you

“S’big,” you whimpered. Daichi pressed on your lower stomach, heightening the sensation of him inside you. His thumb went down to your clit, rubbing circles over it. Your back arched of the bed as a surge of pleasure seized you. Not just pleasure, pleasure and triumph. Your orgasm was heightened with the satisfaction of winning the bet. 

Daichi fucked you through your orgasm until his own took him over. He groaned into your, slowing his thrusts to enjoy every last moment.  He pulled out when you both finished, rolling over on the bed next to you. “Well I am significantly less stressed now.”

You laughed. “Same.” He had not idea how much stress he just took off your plate. “Would it be okay if we didn’t tell anyone, though? The guys on the team are kinda immature. If they found out...” You let him fill in the blanks of his teammates finding out he hooked up with the manager. He absolutely did not want that mess to happen.

“Absolutely. It stays between us.” 

Success.

A few days later you sat with your friend in your dorm filling her in and counting your cash. “I still can’t believe you did it.”

“I know, honestly I’m impressed with myself.”

“Okay but I have to know, how did they do?” You friend has asked you for details along the way, but you insisted on saving it for the end. 

“Let me preface this by saying they were all good, and I would hook up with any of them again,” you stated. You explained that Yams was last, mostly just because of his inexperience. You would, however, not mind being with him again one on one and really rocking his world. 

“You’re gonna scare the poor guy,” your friend commented.

You grinned, “I think he’d like it. Anyways...” In a surprising turn of events, Daichi was next.

“No way.”

“Yeah I mean it wasn’t bad, but he needs to do more foreplay,” you explained.

“Fair enough.” 

Next way Asahi, another surprisingly low 3rd year. You explained that he lost points for cumming quick, but the way he whimpered and moaned was hot so you couldn’t be that mad about it. Next came Tsuki, who you wished could be lower, but alas it was good. 

“And his dick was really big. Like the biggest on the team.”

Your friend laughed. “No wonder he’s so cocky.” 

Tanaka was next. A solid fuck, no complaints.

“He is super into boobs.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think anyone who’s ever met him coulda told you that.” 

Next was Suga. “He’s just like... so sweet dude. It was almost kinda romantic.”

“You really need to go on more real dates if you think fucking in the team storage closet is romantic.”

You laughed, “I swear it was! He was best of the third years by far.”

Next was Hinata. “You did WHAT in the gym?” your friend questioned.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Kinda crazy.”

“Very crazy. But please go on.”

“Unsurprisingly, he had tons of energy. But I was surprised by how good he was. I should’ve known better than to underestimate him.”

Next was Nishinoya. “He was so good. And so eager. I just know he’d be super fun in bed the more you get with him.”

“You sure it’s not your crush talking?”

“Shut up. This is all totally objective scientific work.”

“Wait... so does that mean... Kageyama?”

“Yes!” You told her about how he took you by surprise. That he was amazing with his hands and knew exactly how to work you up. And that he made you squirt.

“No fucking way.” 

“Believe me, I was shocked too.” 

You spent the rest of the night gossiping over the experiences and who you wanted to have a round 2 with.

A/n: this was kinda a convoluted idea and I didn’t really know how to end its lmao. But hope you enjoyed tysm for reading<3

[mother-above]

I'm Not The One For You

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel has been stressed at work and decided to hit the bars with his brothers. He gets so drunk that he may have forgotten what his love looks like

Warnings: fluffy with some spicy implications

WC: 1.1k

*masterlist*

a/n: I've been writing some heavy things and needed a break. I hope yall enjoy this short fluffy piece! xx

The sound of heels clicking on cobblestone joined the myriad of sounds along the Sidra. The city was lively, and all types of music and chatter filled the crisp air in Velaris. As you got closer, the bass at Rita's was getting louder. You, Morrigan, Amren, and the Archeron sisters were glowing from the spa's lavender-scented oil and dressed to the nines. After an afternoon of well-deserved pampering and last-minute shopping, it was time to meet with the boys.

You were wearing a dark blue mini dress, the material sparkled and reflected light with every movement of your body. The black strappy heels matched with your manicure and pedicure.

You were vibrant and ready for the night out with your mate and friends. Work had been tiring, especially when it was your job to organize military exercises with other Courts armies.

Excited to step into the bar, you grinned as the music vibrated all around you. Scanning the dance floor, your grin spreads when you see your blue-siphoned mate absolutely smashed and tearing it up on the dance floor with his brothers and other partygoers. Happy to see him relaxed, you go over to the bar to order yourself a drink before joining Azriel.

Despite being known as the “quiet one,” Azriel loved to dance and party occasionally. Work had been stressful lately, so he let loose and drank to his heart's content. Females and males were coming up to him all night asking to dance with him, but he refused, and if they got insistent, he’d give them the “sorry, you’re lovely but I’m married” speech. Everyone was always respectful and backed away, after all, he was the Shadowsinger.

It wasn’t even late but admittedly, Azriel drank too much, and his wild erratic dancing proved the point. His brothers and family teased him from afar, even Elain was poking fun at the drunken shadowsinger. In the corner of his eye, a female in a short blue sparkly dress approached him. Smelling like lavender, the female slid an arm around his waist and pressed her body against his.

You were about to bop to the beat of the music when Azriel stopped dancing and ripped himself away from you. The movement was so sudden, that the cocktail in your hand splashed droplets on the floor.

“Az? What’s wrong?” you asked wide-eyed.

“S-sorry, I’m taken. I’m just waiting for my wife,” he slurred as he deliberately turned away from you and started dancing again.

Startled, you looked at Cas, Rhys, and the girls and you burst out laughing. You pointed an accusatory finger toward the Illyrians.

“He doesn’t even recognize me! I can’t believe he’s shit-faced this early!” you weren’t mad at the boys, just highly amused.

Tapping Azriel on the shoulder, he turned, and you gave him your most dazzling smile. “I haven’t seen you all day and this is how you greet me? I’ve been wanting to dance with you, love.”

His eyes run down your body appreciatively, his gaze slowing around your thighs, he’s always loved your thighs. You gave him an encouraging nod, but he was still clueless.

Bringing up his left hand, he shows you the golden band around his ring finger. “I told you I’m married, see? She also happens to be my mate.”

You stifled a giggle and stepped closer to him. Surely, he would recognize your scent, right? You grabbed his hand and let your fingers trace the scars, he loved it when you did that.

In complete shock, he snatched his hand away after a few seconds.

“Look, you’re beautiful but I’m not the one for you. I would walk away before my mate gets here. She’s Night Court’s best warrior and I’m afraid she won’t let you get away with you bothering me so much,” said Azriel, his lips pressed into a line.

You started laughing, your handsome mate was so loyal. You can’t believe he would have sic’d you to flirty females. His family, who were listening to the whole thing, was snickering as well. Rhysand pinched his nose highly regretting pre-gaming at the townhouse, at the time it was a great idea.

Azriel squinted at his family when he realized they were laughing at him. “What?!”

Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Brother, you’re so drunk that you don’t even recognize your own mate!”

Azriel’s eyes furrowed as he looked at your beautiful twinkling face, your lips forming into a smirk. Azriel tugged on the bond three times, and after a short beat, you tugged the bond four times. It was something the two of you did, the first person tugged three times and the four tugs meant that the second person loved them more. Clarity burst through his intoxication and when he realized, he tipped his head back in laughter.

Moving closer to you, he pressed his lips onto your temple and murmured an apology against your skin, this was the last time he was going to drink this much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a hand on your waist and the other on your bum. You turned to place a kiss on his cheek and then his lips.

He squeezed your body, and you pressed your lips on him again. “Why do you smell like lavender? No wonder I didn’t recognize you, I hate lavender!”

“That’s the oil they used on our massage today,” you said. A slower song was playing so you swayed with Azriel. He held you tight as you gazed into his eyes, melting at the sight of the brown and greens melting together.

After a few more hours of partying, it was time for you and Azriel to go home. Smelling of sweat, booze, and lavender oil, the both of you opted to bathe together.

You relaxed and laid on Azriel's chest as he took the loofah and scrubbed your skin. He said he wanted you to smell like yourself again and insisted that the bath water was to be changed for the two of you to properly soak. Now that the suds smelled of your favorite soap, he pulled you against him and he closed his eyes.

“Az?”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m really happy to know that even when you’re shit-faced, you won’t ever cheat on me.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, his hand splayed across your stomach and held you tighter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got the most perfect person in the world in my arms?”

You blushed; he always knew how to make you feel loved. Turning around to straddle him, you bent down to capture his lips. Who were you to question his logic?

[euthymiya]

it always ends with i love you ft. wriothesley — in which you, a small floral shop owner, meet the duke of meropide by a chance encounter—and then you meet a bunch more too…but not so much by chance anymore

contains: 20.3k work count (please give it a chance i put my soul into it) ; female reader ; mature content—not suitable for minors ; strangers to friends to lovers ; flower shop au + florist reader ; reader has a small backstory regarding her dead father ; use of canon flowers and and lore, meaning i did my best so please be gentle on me with my botany facts ; heavy spoilers for wriothesley’s story quest and backstory, explores themes such as murder and hints at child exploitation and trafficking—all pertaining to his adopted home life ; slight oc’s because i gave a few of his adopted siblings names ; a fun neuvillette and clorinde appearance! ; a not so fun childe appearance + jealousy ; a short argument ; love confessions and getting together ; wriothesley is scared of love (anyone who had to kill their parents should be tbh) ; reader sits on his lap/lays on him ; there’s sex in every scene lol i got carried away—includes vaginal fingering ; cunnilingus ; nipple play ; hand + blow jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie

the first time you meet wriothesley is by accident.

he doesn’t exactly come up to the surface regularly—he sees the sun frequently enough to remember what sunlight feels like if he tries to recall, but not enough that most people of fontaine would know he’s the duke of meropide just by looking at him.

he likes it that way. the duke is no small title, and he’d prefer the trip through the streets of the court without being stopped for idle chit-chat.

he doesn’t intend on stopping on his way to the palais, but you’re a bit of a unique circumstance.

he hears the smashing sound of something breaking before the scream, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the noise. nothing could have prepared him for a flower shop to be the source of such chaos—what could be chaotic about selling petals on a stem?

except you’re clumsily chasing after a man as he stumbles past your door, knocking over the potted plants on display in the process as you follow him.

the look of distress on your face as the pot falls and shatters compels him to investigate the scene. (of course, there’s a note of distress on your face before the pot falls, but the way it deepens when it does is almost criminal. your face is too lovely to have such creases in your forehead, even if he won’t admit as much out loud).

“stop! please,” you call, “you haven’t paid for those!”

thievery. wriothesley knows a thing or two about pocketing things that don’t belong to him.

first, it’s because he spends a portion of his life on the streets, surviving more than living. those moments reduce him down to a simple pocket thief at times. (he had standards for his crimes: never too much and only enough to survive for a bit. always from someone who dresses expensively and looks like they’re comfortable enough not to feel the damage to their wallets. and, of course, never from women).

second, it’s because people, on the streets or in the fortress, love to steal from those who are weak and vulnerable. people who are sleeping are of that classification of individuals, so wriothesley learns how to keep his things hidden and how to be a light sleeper. he’s never had too many things that are precious to him, of course, but he owns little enough that he’d notice his losses harshly should they come.

he hates thievery. partly because it reminds him of his past and the darkness that taints it, but mostly because it always involves someone innocent who doesn’t deserve to lose. not even a little.

his feet carry him over to the scene before he can stop himself—not that he would stop himself even if he did have control over his body, but it’s just that this particular circumstance seems to have him in some sort of trance. one that won’t allow him to look away from your face.

“please,” you follow the man past your shop’s door, “those are the last of my glaze lilies—i promised them in an order!”

the man running doesn’t seem to care about your pleas, snickering as he turns to give you an amused look, as if your distress is entertaining. he doesn’t make it far, though, before he bumps into a muscled chest.

“what the—”

wriothesley cuts him off, raising a brow. “i do believe the lovely lady here has asked for her flowers back. or did you miss that part?”

“and just who do you think you are, mister?” the man barks, glaring wriothesley up and down. (it’s a bit funny, considering he’s much shorter, so it takes a tad bit of effort on his part to give wriothesley the menacing once over it’s meant to be). “i don’t remember asking you what she asked.”

“oh me?” wriothesley cracks his knuckles casually, shrugging as he says, “duke of meropide at your service. i must say, i’m not very popular around here—not a lot of people know me, it seems.”

your jaw drops. the man’s face pales—which is a nice confirmation, at least, that he does have some sort of a brain.

“w-what? and just why would i believe that? you expect me to think the fortress’s duke is just prancing around the streets as if he hasn’t got duties? as if!”

wriothesley’s lips quirk up at the edges as he hums, fishing through the pocket of his shirt before he pulls out an envelope, sealed with the stamp of the iudex himself. there’s writing on it in clear letters, bold and italicized, as if just to mock the man.

to: duke wriothesley

from: iudex neuvillette

“that clear things up for you?” wriothesley asks, traces of a cheeky glint in his eyes as he raises a brow.

instantly, the man is clasping his hands, head bowing as a string of incoherent apologies flows past his shaky lips. “i-i’m sorry! i’ve never done anything like this before, you can check! my records are clean! i-it was a moment of weakness, but it won’t happen again, sir. p-please don’t take me to monsieur neuvillette. or court. or—”

“your first thieving gig, and you picked flowers?” wriothesley snorts, “i almost don’t want to bring you to court just save myself from the embarrassment.”

the man flushes, bashfully shrinking as he mumbles, “w-well i just…i just wanted to get flowers for my girlfriend for our anniversary and these…th-they’re her favorite you know? b-but they’re hard to come by since liyue is so far and…and the lady wouldn’t sell them to me so…you know…i uh…” the man trails off, wilting as wriothesley’s stares down, unimpressed. “i promised her i’d get them,” he adds, as if it’ll help.

“what a tragic sob story you got there,” wriothesley deadpans. “your girlfriend must love your honesty.”

“if i may interrupt,” you call from behind, making both men glance over to where you stand some distance away.

wriothesley forgot you were there, truthfully. but now that he’s taking in your appearance up closer, he can’t help but appreciate it. your features complement each other well—like an assortment of carefully arranged flowers, hand-picked one by one by celestia themselves.

“hello miss,” he nods, raising a hand to half-wave at you, “don’t worry, i’ll get this man out of your hair in a moment with your flowers too. just give me a sec—”

“no,” you say softly, “no it’s okay. he can keep some of them…i’m sure i can make do with a shorter hand than usual.”

he blinks. you couldn’t have possibly offered to let your thief keep his earnings at your expense, could you? he can’t decide if you're just that naive, just that foolish, or truly just that kind.

maybe all three, if he’s being honest.

“uh…are you sure?” he tilts his head in disbelief, “you want to let him keep the flowers?”

“partially,” you confirm, “it’s alright. everyone deserves flowers on their anniversary. especially their favorite.”

wriothesley decides you’re just that kind—and in some ways, it’s worse than being a bit on the naive side. at least you can sharpen yourself to become untrusting and skeptical if naivety gets you in trouble. kindness is as easy to take advantage of as it is to take for granted, and it’s not just something people like you can turn off like a switch.

“oh, thank you!” the man exclaims as soon as the words come out of your mouth, not wasting a second to grin at you as he says, “you’re really so kind! if you’d just tell the duke here that it was all a misunderstanding and that you’d like to drop all charges, then i’ll be on my way with partial the flowers—”

“make no mistake,” your hands find your hips as your face hardens with a certain strictness even he’s a bit startled by, “if you should come here and cause trouble again, i have the duke’s word to press double the charges next time. i would tread carefully if i were you—don’t ever let me catch you stealing from me again.”

wriothesley stares at you and gapes. he’s sorely mistaken about you—kindness is not the absence of your spitefulness, and the man shrinks back as you stare down at him expectantly.

“o-of course,” he says quickly, “it won’t happen again.”

“good,” you nod, “that’ll be five hundred mora, please.”

“b-but—”

“is there a problem?” you raise a menacing brow, making the man scramble to shake his head. 

“wow,” wriothesley snorts as the man scampers off after fishing enough mora from his pockets, “i suppose i underestimated your ability to handle the situation, miss.”

“i think i owe a good portion of my success to you, your grace,” you bow your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes as you nervously chuckle, “i don’t usually have robberies. the people in this area are familiar with me. they’re quite kind—i’ve never had someone as stubborn as him.”

“well, rest assured, if he bothers you again, you can come to find me for my word at court.”

“i’ll hold onto the offer,” you grin.

that chance meeting becomes history after a while. he comes and pays you a visit every time he’s at the surface, which isn’t all too often, but often enough that you start to look forward to at least one routine visit per month. sometimes, he teases you about whether or not you’ve had new thieves pay you a visit. other times, you make use of his strong hands and built muscles and cheekily order him around to move heavy bags of fertilizer around. 

he likes tea, you learn—he takes a very piqued interest in the jars of dried petals you keep on shelves, ones you tell him are good for making blends for tea, or to boil with water for natural remedies, or to make syrups for beverages like lemonade. it’s a slow, steady, blossoming friendship until, all at once, you feel incomplete without the routine visit from the fortress’s warden. you’re too reliant on the familiarity of explaining flowers, their origins, what stories they share, and what they mean—and likewise, you feel incomplete without his stories from the fortress, what the inmates are up to, and what changes he’s developing to make things better for the people under his wing. 

you like to think he feels the same way; otherwise, he wouldn’t come around as much as he does. 

sometimes he walks you home, and sometimes you invite him for tea. you drink coffee, but you don’t mind the trouble of brewing two beverages if it means some extra time with him in your cozy little home.

like today, where he sits comfortably at your dining table while you cut fresh bulle fruit as tea steeps in the hot water. he watches you with fond eyes, listening as you ramble intently about your recent endeavors at your flower shop.

“—and i think i’ve finally managed to grow a cactus from sumeru long enough to bloom my own henna berries,” you grin, looking at him brightly, pride settling into the crinkles of your eyes, “it did take some trial and error—fontaine rains far too often for cacti to survive, but this one i managed to grow indoors.”

“couldn’t you just get the berries delivered from sumeru? since you have plenty delivered from there already,” he asks in amusement. you huff, rolling your eyes as you walk over, setting the platter of fruit down before him. 

“of course, you’d want to take such a simple route—but plants are far more rewarding when you grow them yourself, you know. plus, every fruit i’ve managed to grow on my own here in fontaine has had a bit of a unique flavor as opposed to ones grown from their original nation. i’d like to see if that’s the case with these berries, too.”

“well, if that’s the case,” he hums, taking a slow sip from the tea you’ve brewed for him—it’s perfectly made to his liking, with two sugar cubes and piping hot just as you’ve learned he prefers. he closes his eyes and lets out a content sigh as the warmth trickles down his throat. “let me try one when they’re ready.”

“of course,” you brighten excitedly, as though the prospect of someone to share such a moment with is one you look forward to. there’s something that tickles in his chest, right beneath his ribcage, at the sight of your wide grin.

you chatter until the sun sets, warm, honeyed rays of orange and pink pouring through your windows and painting his skin vibrant hues. it’s about time for him to leave—you can tell even before he clears his throat and stands, grabbing the plate and mug and heading to the sink.

“i should go,” he says kindly, washing the dishes with so much familiarity that it almost feels domestic and natural to have him here. you shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it enters your head. “thank you for having me this evening.”

“oh, i think we’re past the formalities,” you huff a small laugh, “you’re doing my dishes.”

“technically they’re my dishes,” he chuckles, “since i did dirty them.”

you hum, walking over to where he stands as he turns the faucet off—until a small twist of your ankle has you gasping as you stumble forward. you brace yourself for the impact of the hardwood floor, but instead, you’re met with a firm yet soft chest as strong arms wrap around your waist and catch you before you can fall.

“oh,” you breathe as you open your eyes, staring into him with just as widened pupils as him. 

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, voice just barely audible as he whispers to you—he’s so close, so painfully close, you think the only reason you heard him was because of the proximity. 

“yeah,” you nod. it’s hardly a nod, really—if you were to move your head too much, you’d risk brushing your nose against his. or maybe even your lips. “i’m fine. thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” his eyes are still trained on yours, and neither of you can find it in yourselves to pull away. you can’t, and he definitely doesn’t, and nothing seems to give as you stare at each other. you’re pressed against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, and there’s a strange beating in both of your chests that you think you can just barely make out.

they almost seem to beat in sync, rapid and untamed. so, so fast, you wonder if it’s even healthy.

you don’t know who does it first—or maybe it was the both of you. all you know is that one second, you’re staring at each other, and the next, your heads are tilted so that your lips meet tentatively. he hesitates at the first brush of your lips, but your hands cup his cheeks and pull him forward, making his eyes flutter shut as he shakily breathes into your mouth. it’s so slow, so dizzyingly slow, that you wonder if time has just stopped altogether to grant you a moment with no interruptions. 

he fits perfectly against you, the soft flesh of his cheeks spilling over your palms, your thumb rubbing affectionately into the skin as he nips at your lips, kissing you like he’s waited his whole life to feel you. the curves of his mouth connect with the curves of yours like pieces of a puzzle, like he was carved to match you from the same stone. 

you’re not sure how long you kiss like that, but slowly, it grows needier, more quick and hasty as your hands leave his cheeks to wander to his hair and gently tug at the strands as his hands wander to your waist and lower back, feeling every curve of you as he groans into your mouth. 

he tries to pull away, but you chase after him, unwilling to let go.

“w-wait,” he mumbles, “maybe we should stop—”

“you really want to?” you ask breathlessly, and all it takes is one glance down at your glossy, swollen lips for him to close his eyes and shiver.

“no,” he admits hoarsely, “i don’t. are…are you sure about this?”

“yes,” you whisper instantly.

he doesn’t waste a moment, quickly pulling you into your bedroom as you both collapse on the mattress. you climb onto his lap, crotch pressing against the semi-hardened erection in his pants, the press of your heat against his bulge earning a low, drawn-out groan from him that shoots straight to your clit with a dull ache. 

“sweetheart,” he says in between kisses, making you inhale sharply at the pet name, “you’re killing me here.”

“okay,” you smile against his mouth, pecking it sweetly before you add, “then let me do something about that.”

he doesn’t expect you to drop down between his legs, face to face with the obvious tent in his pants—wriothesley is a gentleman, a giver before he is a taker. his first instinct is to protest as he opens his mouth and starts to say, “hang on—you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” you pout, looking up at him, “please? i want to.”

when was the last time someone looked up at him like that, staring up at him like pleasing him is the only way they’ll survive? he doesn’t recall, doesn’t think it’s ever happened, in fact. he groans, head falling back against your bed frame as he nods slowly. 

“okay,” he concedes, lifting his hips up so you can pull his pants down his legs, leaving him in his boxers. there’s a wet patch where his tip meets the cloth, the evidence of pre cum drooling from his swollen head that makes you hum in satisfaction as you leave a tender kiss on the spot through the fabric. he gasps, hips jolting as his thighs clench at the teasing touch.

“can i?” you purr, hand rubbing soothingly over his tense thigh as he swallows and nods, looking anywhere but at you as he breathes harshly. 

“y-yes,” he grunts, “please.”

you’re freeing his cock as soon as he utters the plead, letting him spring free and meet the cool air. he hisses, gritting his teeth as his chest rises and falls erratically, labored breaths that he tries to use to calm himself as he stands painfully hard between his legs. 

“pretty,” you murmur, entranced at the sheer size of him—he’s flushed an almost painful red at his thick tip, leaking enough pre cum that you’d think he might have already had his release with the way it runs down the side of his hardened length. 

your hand wraps gently around the tip, thumb smearing the pre cum along the tip before coating the rest of his cock, using it as lubrication for the steady stroke of your hand along the girth. he throws his head back, groaning as his hips buck into your touch before he stops himself, frantically trying to keep himself still and let you take your time. 

“f-fuck,” he rasps, “that…that feels nice.”

“yeah?” you breathe, smiling as you press a kiss to his thigh as he chokes on a grunt while your hand slowly pumps him. “am i doing it right?”

“you’re doing just fine,” he assures, biting his lip as he finally can’t keep himself from bucking impatiently into your fist any longer, “feel free to do more, though.”

you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lip before gliding your tongue through his slit and watching as he melts against your bed frame at the gesture, body loosening up like he’s limbless as you slowly take him into your mouth, swallowing around his cock and bobbing your head, pumping the rest with your hand that you can’t fit down your throat. 

“shit,” he curses, hand cupping the back of your head as he guides you up and down his length, moaning your name when you swirl your tongue around the tip, “you…you’re so good at this, yeah? take me so well in that pretty mouth of yours.”

you hum around him, making him cry out at the vibrations around his cock, one hand running through his hair as he tries to keep himself grounded, the other still cradling the back of your head. he’s a gentleman, though, living up to one just as much as he always lets on to be when he doesn’t force you to take more of him by pushing your head down or burying himself deeper into your throat by fucking his hips into your mouth. he lets you do things at your own pace, and you think it’s enough when you feel the telling signs of his release as his panting grows harsher and his cock twitches in your mouth.

“w-wait, wait,” he says frantically, “i’ll cum—i’ll cum. not yet, not until i have you.”

you reluctantly pull away, a trail of spit connecting from your lips to his tip that makes him close his eyes and groan, clenching his jaw as his near-orgasm dies down to nothing again. his cock is achingly hard, hot and swollen and throbbing after denying himself for the sake of feeling you.

“c’mere,” he motions for you to climb onto his lap. you do, sitting on his thigh as he slowly trails a thumb under your shirt, rubbing the skin with a feather-light, heated touch that has you shivering against him. “you sure you want this?”

“i want it,” you whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his lips that he reciprocates with a low hum of approval, “with you.”

“such a sweet way with words,” he murmurs, slowly pulling your blouse over your head and unclasping your bra, tossing them to the side as he marvels at the view of your tits. “such a sweet view, too. beautiful.” 

you flush at the praise, looking away. but his hands grab at your breasts, large as they cup them and massage lightly, thumbs running over the pert nipples as you shudder and breathe out a light gasp. 

“wriothesley, need more—”

“give me a moment,” he shushes you, “and then i’ll give you what you want.”

he admires you like that for a bit, sat on his thigh as your eyes flutter shut and his thumbs tease your nipples, wetness pooling in your core that he can feel on his thigh—you’d be embarrassed, you really would, but it’s not as though his cock is any less leaky at the head. 

finally, he inhales sharply, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt, revealing the scars down his chest before he helps you out of your pants. you stare at the harsh, jagged lines that pain his skin, raised, discolored skin, the only evidence of some brutal, vicious past that he survived. 

your thumb traces down the lines, making him shiver at the fragileness behind the touch.

“where’d you get this?” you murmur, staring at him curiously. 

“hmm? oh the scar on my body? it's from a gash i got while battling a gigantic undersea monster that tried to take over the fortress of meropide…” he stares at you cheekily as you blink, looking at him unimpressed. “hah, just kidding.”

“do you ever take anything seriously?” you shake your head and huff, but there’s endearment on your face as you fight back a smile.

“on the contrary, milady,” he murmurs, grabbing your hips and pulling you back slightly, exposing your drenched cunt before he slowly sinks two fingers into your folds and curls them against the back of your walls, “i take this quite seriously.”

you gasp at the feeling, his digits rubbing against your walls and angling to hit a sensitive, achingly sweet spot at the back of your cunt. it’s precise, the way he pumps his fingers into you, slowly sinking in a third digit while you mewl and throw your head back. the heel of his palm catches against your clit, the sweet friction building your orgasm up slowly, slowly, until suddenly, you’re near the edge all at once. 

“c’mon, don’t hold back now,” he drawls, voice low and sweet and so attractive, you feel like the sound of him alone is enough to send you tumbling over the edge, “why don’t you be a sweet little thing and let go for me, hm?”

you do—instantly, you do, crying out his name is choked garbles as he works you through your orgasm with his fingers, still thrusting into you with a precise pace. finally, when you’re done clenching around him, he pulls his digits out, the slickness of your pussy coating them as he hums in satisfaction. 

“think you’re ready?” he asks softly, cradling the back of your head with his good hand as he pulls you closer, “or do you need one more from me?”

“i’m ready,” you huff impatiently, “i need you, need to feel you already.”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, amused but not anymore patient himself as his cock pulses between his legs, “i’m not trying to wait any longer, either. do you have a…uh…y-you know…”

you snort at the way he trails off awkwardly, flushing at the thought of asking for a condom as if he’s not completely nude under you. “no,” you giggle, pinching his cheek as he huffs, “but we don’t need one. it’s fine.”

“okay,” he nods slowly. his hands grab at your hips, firm yet so gentle with the way they lift you up and guide you to angle over his swollen cock, slowly helping you sink down on him as he chokes on a grunt when his head pushes past your folds. 

you gasp as soon as he intrudes into your tight hole, splitting you open on his thick girth as you take him inch by inch until you’re sat on his lap completely, buried completely with his length as his jaw clenches at the tight squeeze of you around him. 

“wri—wriothesley,” you sob brokenly, unable to say anything else besides cracked repeats of his name. he’s so big, buried so deep, and leaving you so full, you’re not sure if you have it in you to fuck onto him from this position. 

he takes things into his own hands, though—roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back before helping you sink back down on him again, rolling his own hips upward to bury deeper into you. your head spins, and all you can think to do is weakly plant your hands onto his shoulders before you roll your hips, grinding down on his length and sloppily fucking yourself onto him.

he bullies past your folds, curves deliciously into the most intimate parts of you, fat tip slamming against the soft, sensitive spot that makes you see white. pleasure burns up your spine, building a coil in your belly that grows tighter, tighter, tighter—so close yet so far from snapping and letting you plummet into your second release. 

“that’s it,” he grunts, “fuck—you’re so tight, so good. i’ve…i’ve never felt anything so good. it’s like you were made for me, weren’t you? take me so well, fit around me so well.”

his hand moves to your clit, thumb pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing merciless circles against it as you mewl, head burying into his neck as your nails claw at his shoulder. everything is so good—so hot and filthy and leaves you impatiently desperate for some form of release. the friction of his cock dragging along every ridge leaves your mind hazed, and the harsh press of his tip against your sweet spot leaves your vision blurry. 

you’re not sure how you even have the strength to rock yourself onto his stiff length, but somehow you manage, and he seems keen on helping you, too, with rough, bruising hands that grip your waist with a punishingly tight grasp.

“c-can’t hold on much longer,” you cry, voice a strangled sob that’s muffled into his skin, “i’m s-so close. please.”

“me too,” he pants, voice just as strained as yours as he moans through a cracked voice when you clench down on his particularly tightly, “me too, sweetheart. i’m right there with you, alright? let go—c-c’mon.”

once more, you cum around him—this time on his cock instead of his fingers, and if the first time felt good, the second time is devastating. your vision practically goes white as your walls spasm around him, slick and dripping with your release and mixing with his own as he follows you not long after. his cock jolts, pumping hot, sticky ropes of his seed deep into you, and both of your bodies are slumped against one another as you barely roll your hips, sloppy pace with no rhythm as you focus on getting yourselves through the ecstasies of your orgasms. 

his thumb is still pressing against your clit, and your hands have left his shoulders to bury into his sweaty hair, tugging fiercely at the dark strands and making him groan at the mix of pain and pleasure. 

finally, you both ride out the final few waves, him slumping against your bed as you fall against his sturdy chest, face still buried into his neck. sweat clings to your skin, but you don’t mind the feeling of his damp skin against yours, not when the warmth of your body makes the afterglow feel so sweet. your fingers thread through his hair, soothing over his scalp with the rake of your nails where you’d just tugged so harshly, and his palms glide up and down your hips, rubbing gentleness back into the parts where he dug bruises along the skin. 

“wait, is that watering can supposed to be a dog?” he asks out of the blue, making you lift your head and look over your shoulder.

“yes,” you quirk a brow, watching as he lets out a small snort as he looks at the watering can by your plants in wonder.

“it’s pretty ugly.”

“rude!” you gasp, pulling away slightly as he shakes under you in laughter, “i think it’s adorable!”

“do you now?” he bites his lips, attempting to suppress the smile that threatens to take over, “you have…interesting taste.”

“oh, you’re dead to me,” you spit dramatically, collapsing back against his chest as you bury your head into his neck again. “dead to me, i say.”

“my apologies,” he snickers. his hand rubs slowly into your hip, quietly humming for a moment before he asks, “what made you so passionate about plants?”

“i can’t just really like them?” you challenge.

“sure,” he shrugs, eyeing the watering can again as he smiles, “but you don’t give the impression that you just happen to just really like leaves, and that’s it.”

“there’s more to plants than leaves,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. and then, much gentler this time, “my father was a scholar from sumeru. an herbologist.” your voice is a quiet murmur, a low hum as you speak into his neck while his hands are still rubbing into your hips, “i used to be fascinated by his journals and all the plants he’d seen. he died when i was young, so sometimes…sometimes i try to grow them here in fontaine myself. just to feel close to him.”

“do you?” he asks quietly, staring at the various plants that decorate your small home. it’s cozy, he thinks, so lively and warm that it almost doesn’t feel like you’re the only inhabitant. “do you feel close to him when you do?”

“if it works,” you admit, “it’s not always easy to recreate the same conditions they’re meant to grow in.”

“i think you do an impressive job,” he praises, earning a slow smile from you that he can feel curve into his skin, “i’ve yet to come across a flower shop in fontaine with as much variety as yours.”

“you flatter me, your grace,” you chuckle, pulling away as you stare at him, the tousled hair from where his hand ran through, the swollen bottom lip where his teeth sank in, the flushed skin where heat settled. you take all of it in slowly, admiring him as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.

“do i? i meant it seriously, not in flattery,” he raises a brow and smirks, “if i wanted to try flattery on you, i think i’d have some other choice words.”

“don’t be so insatiable,” you gently swat at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. “will you be able to stop by tomorrow?”

“i’m afraid not,” he sighs, “i have a meeting with some people from the palais tomorrow at the fortress. it’ll run a bit late.”

“oh,” you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, but he seems to sense it instantly. “that’s okay. i just had a blend i thought you might like to try—for tea, that is. it’s um…i dried the petals myself, and it’s new. i thought i’d let you be the first to try it to let me know what you think.”

you try not to giggle at the way he perks up at the mention of tea.

“ah, i’m afraid i won’t have time tomorrow. but…” he coughs, trailing off as he looks away, contemplating his words.

“but…?” you press.

“but…well, i have a few guards returning tomorrow from the surface from a few tasks i gave them. i could have them stop by the shop to escort you down to the fortress if that works for you…it’s okay if you can’t, though! i can always come by sometime this week when my duties aren’t as—”

“that sounds nice,” you cut him off, grinning widely, something close to excitement blooming across your features, brighter than any set of petals in your shop, he thinks. “you can give me an official tour of the fortress, perhaps. i’ve only ever heard about it through stories.”

“as you wish, my lady,” he winks.

he leaves not too long after—you try not to focus on his lingering scent in your sheets once you settle back in after bidding him goodbye. it’s oddly peaceful, being surrounded by him even when he’s not there, and sleep lulls over you quicker than usual. 

the scent is faded by the time you wake up, so you take one last deep breath to inhale it before you set off to get ready for the day, counting down the hours before you get to see him again.

——————————

as promised, a group of fortress guards stop by your shop, politely waiting for you to close up before you join them on their return. 

the fortress is darker than you expected—but not at all as small as your mind anticipated. in fact, it’s huge. you follow the guards, making idle chatter as they take you up an elevator, up, and up, and up—until finally, you finally arrive on the floor of his office. 

you’re so busy taking in all you can of the fortress that by the time they escort you to his office door, you remember why you’re here in the first place. to bring wriothesley dried petals of sweet flowers that you grew yourself—flowers often make for a wonderful tea blend, and learning his passionate liking for the drink makes you feel compelled to share with him every one of the various floral teas you’ve learned about in your time as a florist. 

you knock on the door of his office—except, oddly enough, there’s more than one voice you can make out from the room. you didn’t think his meeting would still be in session by the time you arrived, making you anxiously regret the knock as soon as your knuckles leave the surface of the door.  

but he answers before you can think too much of it. “come in,” his voice calls. 

“your grace,” you hum, stepping in, “if this is a bad time, then i can…”

you trail off. both fontaine’s chief justice and champion duelist stand in his office, gathered around his desk as he sits and sifts through files. of course, wriothesley is a duke, which is no small title by any means, but you’re caught more than a little off guard as you step in and share the room with two of fontaine’s more important figures in the justice system.

“no,” he says casually, “come in, you’re right on time. i was just telling miss clorinde about the delicious tea blend you would bring for her to try. she couldn’t wait a moment longer.”

“if you want to try it so badly, just say so,” she rolls her eyes.

“fine,” he huffs, lips curling into a slight pout, “i’d like to try the tea you promised me. clorinde will pass, though.”

“i think i’ll try it, as well,” she chimes in, suppressing a smile as wriothesley crosses his arms.

“but you just said—”

you giggle, walking over as you hand him the bag with dried petals, grinning at the amusing dynamic, and murmur, “i believe it would be the polite thing to do if you made an extra cup for the madam while making yours.”

“picking her side, are we? such an act of betrayal won’t be forgotten,” he huffs. still, almost as excited as a child opening a present, he opens the bag to add the petals to the tea maker he keeps at his desk. you watch with fondness at the action. “you still owe me a present, by the way. and tea won’t do—i’ve just received a batch.”

“then i suppose i can gift you a new tie,” clorinde hums, eyeing the loosened tie around his neck and making him furrow his brows as he subconsciously straightens it, “something that fits your neck better so you look a bit more put together.”

it’s almost like she sees through the both of you, eyeing between you and him with a hint of a knowing glint in her eyes. wriothesley scowls, giving her a petulant glare.

“there’s nothing wrong with my tie. i look just fine.”

“i do believe it’s a stylistic choice,” neuvillette pipes up from the side, “it doesn’t seem to be an issue with the tie itself.”

you snort at the way the joke flies over his head. “you’re right, monsieur,” you join in the banter, “i do believe his grace has a rather…unique choice of style.”

“i wonder if he ever plans to properly wear the coat he always seems to keep hanging over his shoulders,” clorinde adds, the earlier grin she attempted to fight back now fully curled into her lips. you laugh, much to wriothesley’s dismay.

“perhaps he just values being prepared,” you hum, “one can never tell when the fortress will suddenly be too cold. someone as busy as the duke surely can’t afford the wasted time to go and fetch a coat.”

“ah,” she nods, “i suppose you’re right. he is too busy learning legal codes as of late.”

“i take it that my gift has been useful, then?” neuvillette brightens, turning to a miserable wriothesley as he rubs his temples wearily.

“most helpful,” he sighs, not bothering to explain to the iudex that he’s once more missed the point of the joke. 

“oh, we’re only joking,” you laugh, taking the tea cup sitting at his desk and pouring him a glass of the now freshly brewed tea, “it’s all in good fun, your grace.”

“wriothesley is just fine,” he mumbles, “as you can see, this isn’t a very…formal meeting.” 

he watches as you carefully make his cup, one sugar cube as opposed to his usual two—before he can point it out, however, you beat him to it. “i know you’re particular about your tea. i can see it on your face you’re about to insist i give you two, but this is a very sweet blend as it is. one will suffice.”

“careful when it comes to his tea,” clorinde warns, “he’ll be in a foul mood all day if it doesn’t live up to his standards.”

“not true,” he grumbles. as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, slowly blinking before he looks at you with an awed grin, “it’s lovely. you’re right, it is just perfectly sweet with one cube.”

“perhaps you’re the only person he won’t make a fuss with then,” clorinde teases, “he’s got quite the list of grievances if i make him a cup of tea.”

“that’s because you don’t know how to make proper tea,” wriothesley rolls his eyes, “there’s a set of steps you’re meant to follow, you know.”

“water is a most simple beverage,” the iudex cuts in, “one that has many complexities in flavor, as well. perhaps you should consider it as a fitting option if tea gives you too much trouble.”

“i would hate to think of the wrath the poor inmates would have to face if he were to miss a single tea time,” you grin, fighting back a chuckle as wriothesley takes a tired sip from his cup, resigning himself to his fate as the target of your banter, “water simply won’t do.”

“well, i believe we should be off,” clorinde looks at neuvillette, “perhaps we should leave them to themselves.”

“ah, yes,” the chief justice nods politely, “there are many more files for me to read through at the office.”

“do you ever take the day off?” wriothesley raises a brow, “wouldn’t hurt.”

“even his dreams are of legal cases, i’m sure. he wouldn’t last a day on vacation,” clorinde hums.

“i don’t typically dream when i sleep,” neuvillette frowns, still so serious that you choke on a snort as you try to hold back you giggles. wriothesley looks at you with an amused grin, biting his lip to hide a chuckle himself.

“i’ll be seeing you,” he waves as the two leave, “and hopefully with my present ready next time,” he calls to clorinde with a pointed look. she rolls her eyes, fondly waving as she heads out the door.

“i didn’t know you were friends with such important people,” you murmur as they leave, making him raise a brow as he takes another sip.

“friends isn’t the best title for it—consider us work acquaintances.”

“with banter like that, i hardly believe it,” you chuckle, earning you a half-hearted glare from him over the rim of his tea cup.

“did you have your fun at my expense?” he asks dryly—but there’s no real bite to the words, “it seems you got along quite well with clorinde.”

“monsieur neuvillette is lovely too,” you giggle, “even if he’s not exactly…the earliest to catch onto jokes.”

he laughs at that, setting down his empty cup as he stands, eyeing the door to his office quickly before stepping closer to you, eyes staring down at your lips as you chew on the bottom and wait for him to make his move. 

“thank you for the tea,” he murmurs lowly, lips just barely a millimeter away from yours, “it was quite sweet. i enjoyed it.”

“there are plenty of other floral blends i have for you to try,” you hum. 

he grins, hands finding your waist before he whispers, “surely i couldn’t take all that from you without offering something in return, could i? i wouldn’t want it to seem like i'm taking bribes.”

“oh?” you breathe, grabbing a hold of his tie and tugging him closer until your lips meet his in a slow, heated kiss. it awakens a sick, insatiable heat in your core almost instantly. “what did you have in mind, your grace?”

he groans at the way your voice teasingly lilts at the title, hungrily chasing after your lips again. it’s more tongue than it is anything, messy and almost too scandalous to take place in his office where anyone could knock and come in at a moment’s notice. he seems to know it, too, because slowly, he guides you backward, slow steps that don’t interrupt the lock of your lips until your back meets a door.

“why don’t i show you,” he breathes—and then the doorknob is twisted open, and you’re gently pushed in with an arm curled around your waist to guide you. there’s a bedroom connected to his office, you realize. 

not entirely a shock—you’re sure the duke of the fortress has his own quarters to sleep in away from the other inmates, but it doesn’t surprise you less enough that you don’t pull away to take a glance around. 

it’s empty, mainly. not too many things besides a few scattered files and another tea maker with a few cups surrounding it at a desk in the corner. the sheets are dark grey, plain, and neatly made, with two pillows and nothing else. it has no more than what he needs, no more than what’s necessary. no hints of anything that’s his, anything that makes the room belong to him outside of being a mere sleeping quarters. 

“not one for decor?” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“i only come here at night to sleep,” he shrugs, “never felt the need.”

“everyone needs a space that’s theirs, don’t you think? even a few flowers would brighten the place up.”

“offering me more business?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes, “and they’d die. there isn’t much sun down here.”

“i can think of a few options that would thrive,” you murmur.

“so it is business,” he quips. sigh exasperatedly, and he grins cheekily at you before you’re gently pushed to fall onto his bed, his body moving to hover over you as your legs wrap around his waist. his cock is semi-hard through his pants, and you wiggle your hips to press against it, the friction making him groan as you feel him stiffen even more from your actions. 

“i think i’d like my payment now,” you hum, making him raise a brow.

“eager?” he asks, making your hand travel to squeeze at his bulge.

“and you aren’t?” you challenge.

“fuck,” he grunts, shuddering at the feeling, “looks like you got me.”

it happens faster than you can process—the shedding of clothes, the way his fingers slowly sink into you, pumping in and out expertly as your head spins from the way he brushes against your sensitive spots. he’s quick, the way he stretches you apart with his digits, adding a second and third finger with little to no time to waste. you hardly have time to accommodate the third when you feel a familiar ache building up steadily. 

“c-close,” you say shakily, voice brokenly whispering against his mouth as he drinks up your moans, “i’m going to—”

“i know,” he hums, “shh. just let go—you’re doing so well.” 

the praise shatters you—you break at the way he sounds so in awe of you, of the way you suck his fingers into your slick cunt, so tight and wet with every clench. your back arches, and your hips roll into his hand, whimpering as his palm rolls over your sensitive clit. “god,” you gasp, “wriothesley, please.”

“please what?” he drawls, “you already got what you needed.”

“please let me feel you.”

“such a demanding price for some tea,” he sighs, “alright. i guess i can afford it.”

the nudge of his cock against your folds is enough to make you mewl, a sweet, whiny little cry that he groans at—every sound you make leaves an ache shooting up his stiff cock in the form of a twitch, like your every cry calls out to him. he responds with a rough thrust of his hips, burying himself into the depths of you, so deep and so close you can practically feel his pulse alongside yours. 

“so full,” you gasp, panting as you try to adjust to the sheer girth of him. he waits a moment, jaw clenched and teeth grit as he waits for you to nod your head and signal him to move.

“and you’re so tight,” he grunts, moaning softly against your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe, “i wouldn’t mind it if you charged interest either, just so you know. i’ll pay it over as many times as you want.”

“oh be quiet, would you?” you roll your eyes at his words at first, but then they roll back at the feeling of his thick, swollen tip pressing against the deep, sweet spot in the back of your walls. he lets out a breathy laugh, kissing the corner of your mouth so he doesn’t muffle the precious little moan you let out. 

“sure thing,” he hums, “i like listening to you more, anyway.”

“oh,” you gasp, “oh—wriothesley!” his finger teases over your clit, making your walls quiver around him as you feel your second orgasm creep up on you. “w-wait—i’m close.”

“why would i wait?” he asks in amusement, “that’s the idea.”

“t-together,” you whimper, pouting up at him through swollen lips and watery eyes, “please. please.”

he curses, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily at the way you look so fucked out, so drunkenly hazed on pleasure from the drag of his cock along your every ridge. you ask so sweetly—and who is he to deny such an innocent request?

“fuck—okay, sweetheart. fine by me,” he pants, rolling his hips harshly as he works himself to his own orgasm. his thumb teases your clit cruelly, fast and merciless one second, and a slow, bare feather’s touch the next. it keeps you right on the edge, a drooling mess of broken pleas as he finally approaches his own high. “close?”

“so close,” you gasp, twitching as he buries himself deep into you again.

“me too,” his voice cracks, “c-cum with me—please.”

hearing him plead sends you over the edge again—your first orgasm pales in comparison to your second. you didn’t even think that was possible, but the thick of his cock bullying into you is infinitely better than his nimble digits. the blunt head hits all the right spots, curves in all the right angles, and fucks you through your high expertly without even trying. 

you both cry out each other's names like prayers, muffled strings of curses, and breathy gasps that you swallow up between slow, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. finally, when the last few twitches of his cock finish painting his release into you, he slumps on the bed beside your body, body shaking in slight tremors as he catches his breath. 

“you okay?” he asks through a labored voice, “didn’t hurt you?”

“i’m okay,” you breathe, smiling softly. he closes his eyes, relaxing into the mattress, pulling the covers to tuck the both of you in before he stares up at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head while he seems to be deep in thought. “what’re you thinking about?” you murmur.

“just how good you got along with clorinde,” he hums quietly, almost in wonder. “she’s not exactly the easiest to banter with so quickly.”

“well, i guess it’s not too hard if it’s at your expense,” you tease.

“ah, yes,” he sighs, pretending to woefully shake his head, “i’ve been reduced to the butt of the joke one too many times today, it seems.”

he grins to himself at the sound of your quiet laughter, so soft and sweet, so perfectly filling up the quietness in the room, bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears like a symphony. you stare up at the ceiling yourself, eyeing the pipes, the dark amber metal that makes up his home. it’s quiet like that for a bit—not awkward or uneasy, almost like you’ve known him for ages. almost like this is natural.

“can i ask you something?” you murmur after some time, shifting under the covers to face him. 

he raises a brow, looking at you curiously. “you’re scaring me with that look. going to confess some wicked crime you want me to help you hide?”

“it’s not like that,” you huff, rolling your eyes. carefully, as if treading unknown territories (you are, in all fairness), your fingers find his bicep, running along the skin soothingly. it’s an affectionate touch—you and wriothesley only touch each other for physical pleasure, nothing more. this is new, something you’re freshly navigating with a weak compass that points back and forth between your heart and your head, unsure whether to follow logic or emotion. 

“well, go ahead and ask,” he insists, “you’ve got me curious, anyway.”

“what…what did you serve for? when you were an inmate,” you say quietly. he tenses under your touch, muscles becoming rigid as you instantly regret the question. your fingers pull away at the same time as you start speaking, “it’s okay if you don’t want to answer! i just got curious and—”

his hand catches your retreating wrist, gently pulling it closer, closer, until your hand rests on his chest. this is definitely uncharted territory—but his hand firmly lays over yours as he presses your palm over his bare chest. 

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, “it’s not exactly something people in my inner circle don’t know.”

“oh,” you whisper, “i’ve been promoted to inner circle, huh?”

“you’ve seen me naked,” he snorts, eyeing you with a hint of amused disbelief, “you’ve sucked me off, in fact. i think there’s a special other circle inside the circle just for you.”

“okay, no need to get all…”

“all what?” he teases, waiting for you to finish.

“all uncouth about our activities!” you huff, face feeling hot as he grins.

he laughs, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you against his side so your cheek presses against a muscled pec as his warm hand traces circles into your hip. you gasp slightly at the sudden gesture but relax all too quickly, your own hand moving to rub into his chest slowly, feeling the rough scars and tracing them with your fingertips.

“i was adopted when i was young from an orphanage. when i was a bit older,” he swallows, voice quiet, serious—so oddly vulnerable, you think you’re talking to a new version of him altogether, “i found a diary in my mother’s drawer. i didn’t…i didn’t mean to snoop. i was just looking for some paper for my sister to color with.”

“you had a sister?” you ask softly, looking up to see his jaw tighten slightly. 

“i had quite a few siblings,” he admits, voice strained. “older and younger. my parents would adopt a few children at a time and raise them until they were old enough to be adopted into families of greater means. and then they’d adopt more younger children. i thought they were perfect parents,” his eyes stare off distantly, unfocused as they look up at the ceiling, hand mindlessly wandering along your hip as you listen.

“until…?”

“until i read that diary,” his voice hardens, still strained as he clenches his jaw and swallows thickly again, “they were records. of my older siblings, the ones i thought were adopted off. all of their names were followed by prices, and the ones who didn’t have prices had been crossed off. i didn’t understand until i saw my own name and my brother antoine’s. we had blank spaces next to ours.”

“how come?” you furrow your brows, looking at him in jarred curiosity. 

“because we weren’t sold yet,” he smiles ruefully, “i realized we were being sold off like livestock. and i started to piece together why i had never heard from any of my siblings even when they’d promised to write. i…i never knew what became of them.”

“oh, wriothesley,” you say gently, so delicate, he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. you press a soft kiss to his chest under you, hand moving up to cup his cheek, “what awful people.”

“i…i should have kept it to myself,” he whispers shakily, “i didn’t…i couldn’t figure out what to do, so i told antoine—i thought…i figured maybe…” he trails off, eyes closed once more as he breathes heavily, trying to collect the composure he fights so fiercely to keep.

“it’s okay,” you kiss his jaw, “we can forget about it. i’m sorry for—”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i want you to know.”

it should make you feel special—maybe even a little happy that he trusts you enough to want to share. but nothing about this makes you feel anything but pain—you can feel his pain, every inch of it. from the way his hand clasps around your waist in a shaky grip to ground himself to the way his jaw is tight under your lips as they press a soothing kiss to the angle of it. every part of him is in pain, and you can feel it. deep in your own bones, like a lingering ache. one that runs years deep, living in the deepest, most intimate parts of your body.

you don’t mind it, though. you don’t mind sharing his pain, not if it’s him.

“okay,” you nod slowly, “okay.”

he inhales sharply, taking a deep breath before he continues. “i told him because i knew we were next. i thought maybe we could have figured out a plan together. but he asked my mother about the diary, what the prices meant, and why we’d never heard from the others once they’d left. he was gone the next morning—my mother told us he was adopted, but i knew. i knew he was merely disposed of. and it was my fault.”

“it was not your fault,” you turn your head swiftly, looking up at him in disbelief as he scoffs and shakes his head.

“if i hadn’t told him, if i handled it on my own—”

“then what? he would have been fine? you don’t know that, what if he was sold off for something awful? or found out on his own without you? you were a child, and you didn’t know that he’d choose to do that.”

“but i still could have kept quiet,” he chuckles dryly, voice cracking as he adds, “i could have gotten us both out of there. on my own.”

“you shouldn’t have to have done it on your own,” you cup his cheek, bringing him to face you as your forehead presses against his, “you didn’t want to be on your own, did you?”

“no,” he admits, lips trembling, “i didn’t.”

“and that’s okay,” you murmur, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone, “you didn’t deserve to be alone.”

“maybe it was for the better, though,” he sniffles.

“a lot of things are. we can’t hope to predict everything for what would turn out better.”

“he died,” wriothesley chokes, “my brother. he died that night—i…i knew he did. so i ran the next day, when my parents were busy, i snuck off and ran. i didn’t come back until a few years later and i…” his breath catches in his throat, glancing at you for a moment. there’s something fleeting in his eyes. doubt, maybe—perhaps even fear.

you’re not entirely sure, but you press a kiss to his lips, soft and tender, so unlike your usual heated ones. something that’s shared not for the sake of pleasure but for the sake of knowing you’re there—that he has you. you’re both here, together, just the two of you. he can feel your warmth, and you can feel his. 

it eases the tension somewhat, making his rigid muscles relax as he pulls you closer. 

you pull away first, murmuring a soft, “i don’t care what you did. whatever it is.”

“you say that now,” he chuckles weakly, “but you don’t even know what i did.”

“i don’t care,” you say seriously, “i don’t. whatever you did, it was because you didn’t have a choice.”

“i killed them,” he says against your mouth, such harsh, dark words that don’t belong against your soft, pure lips—he thinks he might have just tainted them. almost like you know his thoughts, you prove you don’t care when you peck his mouth lightly. “i killed them and set the other children free.”

“you were just a kid,” you breathe, “a baby.”

“a teenager,” he huffs a laugh hoarsely, “maybe not that young.”

“a baby to me,” you say firmly, “no one that young should be pushed to such extreme methods.”

“you’re oddly calm about sharing a bed with a murderer. was the sex that good?”

you roll over, laying on top of him, pulling a soft oof from his lips—you know it’s exaggerated. he’s strong and broad under you, capable of taking your weight and then some as his hands find your waist to keep you in place, eyes boring into yours. so bare and so easy for you to look into, to read, to see so plainly for all he is. 

he doesn’t even blink—as if he’s offering himself to you, trusting you to see as much as you want, see as much of him as he can show you. 

“is that all you see yourself as? a murderer?” you ask seriously.

“of course not,” he denies, breathing softly into your hands as they cradle his face, “but it’s the part of me that matters most. that defines me the most. whether i want it to or not.”

“not to me,” you shake your head, “and not to you either, i can tell.”

“i know why i did it,” he tells you, staring at you so intensely, you feel like maybe he’s seeing you more than you’re seeing him, “i did it for my siblings. because i knew it was the only way to get them out. no one else would do a thing. but when you strip my title as duke from me, whether you put me in the underworld or put me in the overworld, i am a murderer. that won’t change.”

“and?” you raise a brow, “do you regret it? what you did?”

“never,” he says instantly. he means it. “but i’m aware of what i am to others. what they see me as. i’m not naive enough to believe my past will go away.”

“and it shouldn’t,” you shake your head, “i don’t think it should. i don’t think murder is what matters most about you—i think a child raised like livestock, betrayed, and taken advantage of, matters most. a boy who willingly gave up his freedom so his siblings would have theirs is what matters most. a man who served his time and chose to stay so he could make things better for everyone who followed is what matters. death was a kind fate for your parents, wriothesley—i for one, believe there were more fitting fates for them. far crueler ones than a peaceful demise.”

he chuckles at that last part, staring at you in wonder, in slight amusement, in so much awe that you almost feel shy.

“now i’m really questioning if the sex was that good—you’re really rationalizing my crimes, aren’t you?”

“oh, you’re such an asshole, do you know that?” you huff, “i think that’s what defines you best. a complete, utter, shameless assho—oh.”

he kisses you—abruptly so. his lips are pressed hard and firm against you, kissing with so much conviction, so much need, you’d think that you were disintegrating in his arms, that this was his last opportunity to kiss you and commit how you feel to memory. 

“you sure it’s not my stamina?” he wiggles his brows, “how about my—”

“i’ll see to it that this is the last time we ever engage in such activities if that’s all you can focus on—”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, pouting as he pulls you down to lay on him, your head tucking under his chin as he kisses the crown of your head, “enough sex jokes. i promise.”

“so crass,” you scold, “have some decorum, will you?”

“my apologies, milady,” he sighs regretfully, voice exaggerated and theatrical as he adds, “i won’t allow myself to forget my manners again. from here on out, i’ll make sure to discuss more…gentlemanly topics for your liking.”

“you’re a real handful,” you sigh, “poor sigewinne. such a sweet little angel to put up with the likes of you.”

“you met her?” he smiles fondly at the mention of her.

“briefly, yes,” you nod, “the poor thing must be tired of your antics.”

“i’m on my best behavior around her!” he insists, “you can ask her.”

“i don’t think she’ll vouch for you, you know.”

“yeah, you’re probably right,” he withers in defeat.

you giggle, kissing his collarbone softly before nuzzling against him as he relaxes. it’s comfortably silent, just your body against his, warmth seeping between the space that hardly separates your bodies, spreading across your skin. you share your heat, and he shares his. it lulls you, slowly but surely, and you can feel it lull him, too as his breath slowly evens out under you. 

sleep is just a breath away from clutching you when you mumble, “wriothesley?”

“hmm?” comes his sleepy hum.

“thank you,” you whisper, yawning, “for trusting me. enough to tell me.”

“go to sleep,” he grunts tiredly, “you can be sappy and sentimental in the morning.”

“okay,” you grin tiredly, pressing closer into him, “i’ll hold you to it.”

sleep comes quickly after that—so easy, so natural in his arms, you wonder how you’ve rested all these years without him. 

——————————

your routine to meet with wriothesley ebbs and flows between the surface and the fortress. sometimes, he stops by just like before, and sometimes, he sends for guards to fetch you when he’s too busy to make an appearance himself. your meetings more or less end the same—catching your breath together, bare bodies huddled together in a tired mess as you share quiet, whispered words into each other’s skin. it’s a routine that both of you are too used to by now, that even a short gap of not seeing each other makes the both of you impatient for the next time you’ll get to see each other. 

on days you can’t afford to see each other, your days at the shop drag by slower when all you can do is think about him. sometimes, the guards will be relieved to come to escort you, woefully expressing the awful mood the duke has been in, shuddering as they recall how unpleasant he is to be around when he’s unhappy. they seem to insist your visits are what help end his supposed awful temperament—your instinct is always to flush and insist they must be mistaken.

but it’s an intimate sort of development—the way the two of you slowly learn to depend on each other for comfort. you on long days at the shop, him after tiresome affairs with the fortress. every delicate touch and every saccharine word you exchange slowly peels away the harsh layers of the week, leaving you raw and bare to each other. 

it’s nice. something you’ve grown a bit dependent on, in fact. a part of you would like to be scared, but wriothesley doesn’t let you fear anything—it’s just the kind of guy he is. everything about him feels too safe for you to consider being scared. 

you miss him terribly, too. you haven’t gotten a chance to see him in over a week—it’s the first week of spring, the blooming season for a number of flowers. you have shipments from across the continent—cecilias from mondstadt, silk jades from liyue, sakura blossoms from inazuma, and padisarahs from sumeru. there are plenty more—too many for you to list off the top of your head, but those are the ones you’re sure will sell out the quickest. 

there’s a certain man who stops by every day, a mop of ginger on his head and an interesting aura about him as he asks you if you’ve received kalpalata lotuses yet—they’re for my sister, he tells you, i bring them home for her every time i visit sumeru. but i won’t have a chance for quite a while.

you learn he’s a harbinger, the eleventh in rank, and hardly one to step foot in his homeland for too long at a time. but he’s due back, he tells you, for a project that won’t allow him to leave for quite some time. mingling with a fatui operative is hardly on your list of possibilities for the week, but you realize even a harbinger can appreciate the beauty of flowers. so you promise him your batch's biggest blooms as soon as they are delivered. 

and he’s patient, coming every day in hopes that they’ve been delivered, helping you organize the deliveries you do get, going as far as to join you to loch urania amidst a terrible storm to assist in picking lakelight lilies when you’re low. you appreciate the small companionship you’ve formed with him—childe, as he’s called, he tells you. a code name for his place as a harbinger that you relish in being given the knowledge of.  

the day finally comes when the lotuses are delivered, and for all his help and kindness, you try to repay him with a free bouquet. 

he declines persistently. “no, no miss,” he chuckles, waving his hands in dismissal as you offer the beautifully bundled flowers, “i couldn’t possibly accept them free of charge.”

“oh, don’t be silly,” you huff, “you’ve done plenty for me. an extra set of hands in the shop is as rare as glaze lilies blooming in midwinter!”

“i was happy to help,” he chirps, “i had a good time occupying myself as i waited to depart fontaine.”

“and archons know when the next time you’ll return is,” you sigh, “which is why you should accept these as a parting gift.”

“a parting gift, huh?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice—wriothesley. it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve heard it, and you beam as you look over at his approaching figure.

“wriothesley!” you hum, “what are you doing here?”

“thought i’d come to pay a visit,” he says gruffly, eyeing childe, who grins tightly at the warden. “i wasn’t banking on seeing an ex-inmate, though. what a shocking surprise.”

“the fortress’s duke in broad daylight,” childe coos, “what a fascinating sight.”

it’s tense—you can feel the atmosphere shift all too quickly as the two men stare each other down. 

“i didn’t know childe was a prisoner at the fortress,” you murmur, making the warden scoff as he glares at the harbinger.

“well,” childe shrugs, eyes sharp as they gaze at wriothesley, “i like to consider myself wrongly sentenced. justice isn’t always fair in the courts of fontaine, it seems.”

“ah, is that why you escaped from your sentence early?”

“i believe my escape proved to be quite helpful in saving the people of this nation in the end, didn’t it?” he asks, voice low, almost predatory, as wriothesley grits his jaw, glancing back at you before crossing his arms. 

“is the fatui boy giving you trouble?” he asks, making you shake your head frantically as the harbinger lets out a dry chuckle from the side. 

“oh, no!” you insist, “no, childe has been quite helpful, i promise. he’s given quite a hand, in fact!”

“is that so?” wriothesley perches a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he glares to the side at the smug ginger. 

“oh, absolutely,” childe nods, “you see, i’ve been offering the lovely lady my assistance as i waited on my delivery. we even visited loch urania together to pick lakelight lilies for a bouquet she needed to deliver.”

“he treated me to lunch,” you beam innocently. you might have missed the way wriothesley’s jaw tightens, but childe certainly doesn’t, making his grin spread even wider. “he’s nice, wriothesley, i promise. i hope you both can sort out whatever differences you had during his previous sentence.”

“perhaps next time, you could join us for lunch,” childe drawls, “it’ll be on me.”

“a kind offer,” the duke chuckles dryly, a rueful grin on his tight lips as he adds, “but i’ll have to decline.”

“please, i really insist you take these lotuses,” you hold the bouquet out to the harbinger, and much to wriothesley’s dismay, there’s an evident amount of extra care put into the floral packaging. your careful handwriting in soft, looped letters spelling out his name across the paper, with a heart beside it as though you took time to thoughtfully scribble each letter just for him. “give your sister my best regards.”

“you know his sister?” wriothesley grits.

“oh no,” you chuckle, “but he tells me of her. the flowers are for her!”

“like i said,” childe hums, taking out a heavy pouch of mora and placing it on your counter—both yours and wriothesley’s eyes widen at the sheer amount of mora you’re sure is inside. it’s undoubtedly far more than a small, simple bouquet would cost, but he waves it off like it’s nothing as he says, “i insist on giving you the payment you deserve. you’ve certainly made my last few days here at fontaine interesting. it’s made up for the less than…welcoming treatment from the beginning of my trip.”

wriothesley’s eye all but twitches. 

“that’s far too much to accept for a small bunch of kalpalata lotuses, you can’t—”

“consider it a payment in advance for the next time i return to fontaine,” he winks, “i’ll be sure to visit for more of your lovely flowers. i’m sure my mother will appreciate a bouquet too.”

with that, he waves at you, walking off with a grin as you sigh and shake your head fondly, waving him off as you call, “you’re quite the handful, you know. do visit again next time you’re here!”

“oh, i wouldn’t miss the opportunity for anything.”

wriothesley scoffs at the final exchange of words, watching the retreating figure of the harbinger with hardened, distant eyes while you exhale softly and grab the pouch of mora. 

“are all harbingers this loaded with mora, do you think?”

“who knows,” he mutters, looking away as he swallows before adding, “i came to visit on my way back to the fortress. i had business with neuvillette.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling as you ask, “is he doing well?”

“fine,” is all wriothesley says.

“that’s good,” you nod, “we haven’t been able to see each other in quite a bit, huh? i’d have visited, but the deliveries all week have kept me busy.”

“good thing you had the harbinger to lend a hand, huh?” he remarks, raising a brow.

“well, yeah, i suppose so,” you frown slightly, watching as he takes a slow, deep breath before fixing his tie. “is everything okay?”

“yeah,” he says instantly. “may i walk you home?”

“of course,” you smile—it doesn’t reach your eyes, and he wishes he could find it in himself to do something to reassure the lingering worry in your irises, but he doesn’t. instead, he quietly waits for you to close the shop, so uncharacteristically silent that you can practically feel the tension in the air tangibly.

the walk to your home is just as silent. wriothesley doesn’t say anything, and you don’t have the confidence to break the silence yourself. you’ve never seen him like this, so bothered and visibly so. you’re not entirely sure what brought it on, either—but you are sure it has something to do with childe. 

you finally reach your home after a long walk, quietly standing in front of the door as you turn to him and inspect his face. hard-lined lips, distant eyes, and crossed arms. he doesn’t look like the usual wriothesley you know—the one who grins and gives you a slight bow as he says, we’ve arrived at your lovely home, milady. 

“thank you for walking me,” you murmur, looking at him carefully as he nods.

“sure,” he responds flatly, “my pleasure.”

“you didn’t have to trouble yourself if you were tired from your meeting,” you add.

“not tired,” he shakes his head. “it was no trouble to me.”

“are you sure?” you raise a brow, sighing as you cross your own arms, “you don’t seem too happy to be here.”

“what do you mean?” he shrugs lamely, avoiding your question, your gaze. you know that one look into your eyes is all it takes to make him spill, and normally, you don’t take advantage of that, but you think tonight you will. 

because you’re tired of dancing around half-truths and coded words you have to decipher. you want one straight, laid-bare conversation with him. so you reach over and tilt his jaw, making him inhale sharply at your touch as you force him to face you and look at you. 

“what is up with you? and don’t even think about saying nothing.”

“nothing is up with me,” he mumbles stubbornly.

“wriothesley,” you warn, looking at him unimpressed, “i was not born yesterday.”

“my apologies,” he says sarcastically, a rueful smile curling on those chapped lips of his, “i suppose i’m just a bit shocked i’m not the only customer you offer your affections to. i suppose that was silly of me—it must be good for business.”

“excuse me?” you recoil, staring at him in disbelief. a little hurt, too—he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, flinching slightly at the implications. “how dare you insinuate i’m a common whore?” 

“that’s not what i was trying to say at all,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it came out wrong.”

“then what were you trying to say?” you demand, looking at him expectantly, hands on your hips and a raise of your brows that almost mockingly tells him, i’d love to see you work your way out of this one. 

“you never told me you and the fatui boy were so close.” 

if there’s one thing wriothesley is good at, it’s shifting things to focus on other people. so he can observe. watch closely. take note of all the little things so he can figure out what he wants to know without asking at all. all without having anything told to him right out. it’s how he works—and you won’t entertain it. 

“the fatui boy has a name,” you point out.

“his name is not actually childe,” he snorts—there’s no real amusement in the action, just as sarcastic and sardonic as everything prior. “is that what you believe?”

“if you’re not going to say the problem with your words like an adult, i’m going to go inside,” you spit, “we’re both wasting time here if we’re just going to talk in circles.”

“yes, because i’m the one who’s not admitting things,” he chuckles dryly. 

you glare at him—because enough is enough, and you’re sick of taking one step forward just to stumble ten steps back. with one swift move, your hand grips his wrist firmly and yanks, pulling him to stumble into your home as the door slams behind him. you’re tired of having bystanders walk past you and listen to your pointless discussion, and you’re tired of getting nowhere the longer you stand outside. it feels like the more you talk, the less you know. every word he says confuses you more and more.

and that’s the thing about him—he never tells you things, not since that night he first opened up. you thought you broke some newfound trust, a new ground to walk on with him that leads somewhere further than just two people who seek each other out for pleasure. you feel something for him—and you thought he did too, but it’s always something vague or another with him and you’re tired of it. tired of wondering where you stand, what he wants, how he feels. you want to know, and tonight, even if it kills you, you’ll find out.

“what is it you want me to admit wriothesley? huh?” you scowl, “tell me so i can tell you what you need to know so you’ll finally answer my question. i’m tired of the back-and-forth game with you.”

“you don’t need to admit anything to me,” he shrugs, “it’s not my business.”

“you don’t even believe that yourself,” you scoff, “even i can tell that much. is this about childe? you don’t like me mingling with the fatui? he’s just friendly, that’s all. and good business.”

“right,” he nods slowly, disbelievingly. you almost see red—how dare he hint that you’re a liar. 

“what do you think i’m doing then?” you challenge, “let’s hear it. fraternizing with the fatui? is that the accusation you’ll pull out?”

“well, if he’s helping you pick flowers and buying you lunch, then you certainly can’t be strangers,” he smiles tightly, “perhaps next time he can join us in our canoodling too if you’d like.”

“so that’s what it is?” you shake your head exasperatedly, “you’re moody because you’re jealous?”

“i’m not jealous,” he narrows his eyes, “i have no reason to be.”

“i’d believe you sooner if you’d said the underwater beast really was the cause of your scars,” you scoff, pursing your lips. “why is it so hard for you to just speak your mind?”

“then let’s start with you,” he retorts, hands throwing up in the air as he takes a step closer and glares daggers at you, “why are you dancing around what your relationship with the harbinger is?”

“there is nothing between me and the harbinger! nothing at all, and i don’t appreciate you assuming things about me. i’ve only been intimate with you!”

“you don’t need to hide it,” he smiles bitterly. finally, as if the conversation has chipped away at his resolve enough that bits and pieces of his inner turmoil can show, you can see the lingering hurt in his gaze. the betrayal. the doubt and fear—all of it pools in his eyes, swimming in the many, many flecks of his eyes as you stare into them. “it’s not as though we’ve committed to anything here.”

“i’m not hiding anything,” you say firmly, “you don’t have to be jealous.”

“i’m not jealous,” he shakes his head. it feels like he’s convincing himself more than you. because more than you, admitting to himself he cares is hard. all of this is hard—you know that. the last time he dared to trust someone, to love someone, he’d lost more than he could fathom. more than he was ever ready to lose.

so you sigh, dropping your shoulders as you let the anger dissipate.

“i wouldn’t blame you if you were jealous,” you say softly, extending the olive branch with a slow, hesitant hand to his cheek. he stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away, “it would kill me, too, to think you were close to another woman. but the harbinger is a customer i’ve become friendly with and nothing more. don’t you believe me?”

he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he hesitantly leans into your palm, letting your thumb brush soothing strokes along the scar under his eye.

“i was jealous,” he admits, quiet. hoarse. strained. it takes every ounce of him to admit as much to you—the progress makes you smile softly. “i…i was so jealous i couldn’t think straight. and i took it out on you. i’m sorry.”

“maybe it’s time we had a discussion,” you say softly, “about…well, us. what it is we’re doing. it’s long overdue.”

“i’ve been avoiding it,” he confesses. 

“i know,” you murmur, smiling tightly, “i know you have. that’s why i didn’t bring it up. but we can’t dance around it forever.”

“i’m no good at this,” he opens his eyes, defeated and so lost, you can’t help but lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“you’re not so bad,” you hum, “give yourself a little more credit.”

“no,” he shakes his head, “you don’t understand. i’ve never been good at this…at trusting people and getting close to them. i don’t even have real friends—i see clorinde and neuvillette every few months, and briefly at that. one of them was the judge at my trial, and the other knows as much about me as the files say. i don’t like talking about my feelings, and i hate sharing things about myself. i’m not jealous of childe because he threatens me—even i know you’d never give a fatui member a chance. but i’m no good for a stroll in the park, or picking flowers, or lunch at a cafe. i live underwater in a large prison that i run, and i rarely come up—at least, not often enough to be a healthy, functioning member of society, that is.”

“so what?” you frown, “i don’t care. nothing is easy at first—isn’t that why we try? who says you have to share all your feelings immediately? we can work up to that slowly. this was sharing, wasn’t it? what you just did? that’s a step in the right direction.”

“and look how much we had to battle for that little bit,” he lets out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh that makes your heart ache, “you’ll grow tired of me.”

“you don’t get to decide that,” you shake your head stubbornly, “i would never grow tired of you. never you.”

“i might be a duke now, but i was a murderer in the past,” he adds, a low and cheap attempt to convince you he’s not worth it. you roll your eyes at the statement.

“i’m aware,” you say blandly, “i don’t care, wriothesley. i don’t. those are all excuses—if you want this, if you really want this like i do, because you care about me just like i care about you and you feel the same way, then you’d realize these are all petty excuses your head is coming up with. i’ll wait for you to be better at communicating if you promise you’ll try. and your past is just a small stain on the cloth that we can ignore.”

“it’s murder,” he says in disbelief.

“i said what i said,” you huff. he blinks once, then twice before letting out a breathy chuckle.

“you’re insane.”

“thank you,” you nod, grinning, “and you being at the fortress is just a small obstacle. we’ll make it work, you and me.”

“how?” he asks, voice small and unsure.

“you act like it’s impossible, you silly thing. i’ll come see you, and you’ll come see me, and we can spend nights together wherever is most convenient for the time. why are you overthinking it?” you ask like it’s obvious. maybe it is—maybe his brain just doesn’t let him see how simple of a solution it really is.

“the fortress is no place for someone who’s used to the surface—”

“enough excuses,” you scold firmly, “i won’t have any of it.”

“you don’t know what you’re getting into,” he shakes his head—you cup his cheeks, pulling his face close as you press soft, delicate kisses along his skin. like he’s fragile. like he needs to be handled with care. 

no one has ever handled wriothesley with care. even as a child when he was defenseless. when his parents saw a commodity to raise and sell like livestock instead of a child to love and cherish. when the streets saw a rat with dirty clothes and nimble fingers only good for theft. when he woke up in a hospital bed with cuffs to his hands, wrists shackled, and a caseworker sat a comfortable distance away, even without his gauntlets. when they saw him as nothing more than a murderer on trial as opposed to a child with no other way out. when the world showed him no mercy and left him to fend for himself in a dark, ruthless corner of the nation under the sea with no sun, no grass, no fresh air, and no hope.

no one has thought to treat wriothesley with gentleness, with kindness, with grace—as if he mattered. not until he made himself matter, taking what he wanted through a pen, paper, and meaningless title. 

no one until you. 

“i know exactly what i’m getting into,” you whisper, “you know what i see? when i look at you?”

“what? big muscles?” he teases, voice weak. a last, feeble attempt at keeping himself guarded. it’s useless, and he knows it as well as you do. he’s already far more vulnerable than he’s comfortable with. 

“a good man,” you say firmly, “a good man who is worth the effort. one who has a good heart and no one to share it with. someone who knows when change needs to happen and makes it happen. someone who knows a thing or two about second chances. who shows people mercy if they’re willing to be better—because that’s all he wants. for things to be better.”

“you’re giving me a lot more credit than i deserve, sweetheart,” he says shakily, trying to give you his usual smirk. his lips wobble, much to his dismay—you kiss them to help him hide the tremor like the angel you are. 

he’s not sure why the archons, celestia, or whoever is in charge of fate would send him such a perfect, pure angel in his arms. but they did. he’s certainly not one to miscount his blessings—they’ve been few and far between as is. 

“no,” you murmur, whispering between kisses, “i’m not. i’m giving you as much credit as you deserve. because no one has ever told you these things about you, and it’s time someone did.”

“doing the dirty work, huh?”

“i wish you’d stop with that,” you smile at him sadly, “i wish you would treat yourself with the same kindness you treat everyone else with. that you treat me with.”

“you’re an angel,” he murmurs, pecking your cheek, “that’s the difference.”

“you can’t be that bad if that’s the case,” you grin cheekily, “what kind of angel picks such an awful guy?”

“one who thinks the fatui harbingers make good friends,” he snorts, “one who’s a little on the naive side.”

“i like to think of it as seeing good in people,” you wink. 

he laughs, arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he kisses you. and kisses you. and kisses you—and kisses you some more until you’re forced to pull away and breathe. even then, he’s not satisfied, lips finding the sensitive skin along your collarbones, traveling up along your neck and finding your jaw, peppering soft presses of his lips until they hover over your mouth again.

“you good?” he asks smugly, “need a minute to catch your breath?”

“you’re such a pain,” you huff, pressing against his mouth and closing the gap as he hums against you. 

“what were you just saying about me just a few moments ago? something about a good man?”

“come here,” you sigh exasperatedly—and then you’re tugging him into your bedroom, stumbling and giggling as you both impatiently find the bed. you fall back, the mattress catching you along with him as he hovers over you and doesn’t waste a moment to nip at your neck.

“next time you need help with flowers in a dangerous, stormy place, you ask me,” he says lowly, breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver, “you don’t need the fatui boy.”

“okay,” you laugh, breathless as your eyes flutter shut when he nibbles on the sensitive spot over your pulse point, “you might have to temporarily drop your duties as a duke for that, though.”

“consider it done.” his hands tug your blouse over your head, doing quick work to toss it somewhere on the floor as he grins at the lacey red bra you have on underneath. “this is new,” he comments, “i like this.”

“of course you do,” you grin in amusement, “so predictable.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m an easy guy to please. just need you, maybe a few accessories…i don’t ask for much.”

“well,” you look at him in anticipation, “are you going to stare all day? or are you going to take it off?”

his eyes darken—hazed with lust and desperation as he quickly works the bra off of you and tosses it off to the side, too, but not before he stares at the label quickly. “chioriya boutique,” he reads, nodding, “remind me to give her my thanks. and business, too, in the future.”

“shameless,” you scoff, shaking your head.

“grateful,” he corrects, grinning cheekily at you. you don’t even get a chance to retort before his lips are around your nipple, teeth lightly grazing the pebbled nub as he sucks, making you gasp as your hands find his head, cupping the back of it as your own head throws back against the pillows. 

“wri—”

“you know what i see when i see you?” he hums, pulling away from one nipple and latching onto the other, tongue rolling over it slowly as his thumb finds the other, not to leave it neglected, “i see the woman i would defy the gods themselves to possess. who i would commit far worse crimes for, and serve time all over again for. one who commands my every thought. do you know how many times i’ve neglected my duties just thinking about you alone? when i see you, i see the one thing that’s finally mine—mine alone.”

you whimper as his lips reattach themselves to your breast, sucking and grazing his tongue around one nipple and pinching and toying with the other with his hand. your hands tug at his hair, pulling a soft groan from his throat as he pulls away and stares at you. you’re a panting, heaving mess already—he grins in satisfaction.

“pretty,”  he hums, nuzzling his nose against your throat, right where your pulse is erratic, “so, so pretty.”

“all this flattery, and you’ve yet to do something,” you rasp, just to rile him up as he lets out a deep, gruff sound of disapproval, eyeing you with a raised brow.

“oh, you want me to do something, is that it? i thought we’d take our time,” he grazes his finger along your waist, tracing the edge of your skirt before looping his finger under it, tugging slowly, “but if you insist, i guess we can pick up the pace.”

he pulls the skirt down your legs, eyes widening as he takes in the matching red laced panties from the bra earlier—you grin cheekily as he does. “like this one too?”

“oh,” he chuckles, breathless, “sweetheart, you have no idea.” wriothesley is a giver—you’re reminded of this fact as soon as his head buries between your thighs enthusiastically, kissing your clit through the lace as your breath hitches. “did you pick this little set up just for me?”

“don’t be silly,” you tease, “i obviously got this for myself. consider yourself a lucky witness.”

“and a lucky witness i am indeed,” he nods, humming as he slowly, carefully inches the lace down your legs, admiring the way it contrasts against your sweet, supple skin. “i owe chioriya boutique my life. i’ll even give my thanks to madame chiori myself.”

“please do not,” you say in horror, making him chuckle, “that would be utterly undignified.”

he’s not even listening, you realize. his lips attach to your clit as soon as the fabric is discarded somewhere to the side like the rest, a soft groan rumbling from his chest as soon as he tastes you, spreading your legs for better access as he glides his tongue to your folds, pressing between your folds and looking up to watch as your head throws back with a soft gasp. 

“wriothesley,” you gasp, pulling his hair in a tight grip to ground yourself.

you’re the most gentle with him when you handle him—but you’re also the roughest. the way you grasp him so harshly, mercilessly in your grip, makes his eyes flutter shut in a sick, twisted sort of masochism. he loves the pain, the dull throb in his skull from your pleasure. 

“yeah, i’m right here, sweetheart,” he chuckles lowly, “feels good?”

“yes,” you whine, “s’good—so good.”

“i know,” he hums, pressing soft kisses to your clit, along your inner thigh, until he’s back to your folds, hovering over them as he whispers, “i can tell just from the way you’re dripping. isn’t that cute?”

you whine in embarrassment, closing your legs around him as he grins against your cunt, grinding down on his mouth until he’s back to devouring you, tongue slipping deep into you as far as he can, exploring your tight, wet hole with fervor. 

“close,” you whisper, voice bordering on broken, “i’m s-so close—oh, wriothesley!”

you come undone on his tongue with one more roll of his tongue over your clit, shaking as he sloppily eats you out through your high until your whole body is a shaking, quivering mess along with your walls. 

“got anything else from that boutique you want to show me?” he murmurs, moving back up to hover over you, burying his face into your neck as your arms snake around his shoulders, rubbing into his back.

“maybe,” you say vaguely, grinning, “it’s a secret. maybe if you behave, you’ll find out.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, “consider me on my best behavior, milady.”

“then take this off,” you tug at his shirt, pouting as you add, “not fair that i’m the only one undressed.”

“as you wish,” he agrees. you watch as he strips—it’s not embarrassing like the first time or two when you looked away with a hot face and ears. now it’s intimate, watching him bear his soul to you, with every scar and imperfection, every flaw and tainted part.

his cock is hard, standing between his legs as it throbs, a bead of pre cum coating the tip. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close again as you feel his hardened length poke at your thigh, making you press against it and pull a groan out of him.

“i want you,” you whisper, “i’ve never wanted anyone else. not like this. not like you. i don’t think i ever will.”

“you can’t have met too many people then,” he teases.

“oh, i meet plenty of people. romantic ones at that—flowers are a love language, you know.”

“and you still want me? they must all be taken.”

“they’re not you,” you correct, pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss, taking your time to mold your lips against him and feel him against you, “nothing close to you. no one comes close.”

the bees should come to your lips for nectar, he thinks. flowers bloom from your mouth, delicate and sweet petals that light up his world and color him every shade of love. 

“in that case,” he whispers, pulling away from your mouth to press a soft kiss to your nose, “i’m the luckiest man in fontaine. maybe teyvat.”

“i would agree,” you wink cheekily, “aren’t i such a lucky catch?”

“oh absolutely,” he laughs, amused, fond, so deeply enamored. then his lips are back on yours, and his hips are angled so that his cock teases your folds, grazing the entrance of your cunt as he coats his tip with your dripping slick. 

you both shudder at the feeling, gasping against each other’s mouths as you exchange hot, labored breaths. 

“i want you,” you repeat, “please.”

“you have me,” he whispers, letting out a soft moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance, “as long as you want.”

“that’ll be forever,” you say breathlessly, “think you can handle that long?”

“i’m sure i’ll manage.”

finally, he pushes all the way through, buried to the hilt and stretching you apart until he splits you open on his cock. he presses so deep into you, you can feel him nudge against that sweet, spongy spot without even trying. it’s like he was made for you—like the laws of this land declared him yours from birth and made him fit you in every way possible. the slot of his fingers with yours, the mold of his lips against you, the press of his cock into your cunt. all of it fits you so well, you wonder if you’ve lived your life just to find wriothesley. 

you both moan into each other’s mouths, strangled sounds that you swallow from each other’s mouths as your lips sloppily press into each other. 

“wr-wrio—fuck,” you stammer, nails raking along his back as he rolls his hips, slamming into your deepest, most rawest parts.

“yeah, baby,” he pants, kissing the corner of your mouth, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

you sob when a rough, callused thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves perfectly in tune with the harsh thrusts that fill you so deep. deep—he’s so far into you, you wonder if you can feel him in your throat, in your lungs, and in your heart, knocking the air out of you as you breathlessly try to call his name. 

“faster,” you plead, clinging to him, “more—please, need more.”

“think you can take it?” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a strangled grunt when you squeeze around him particularly tightly, “i think you’re falling apart as is.”

“more,” you whine, back arching as your hips desperately buck up to meet his in tandem, trying to feel him closer, deeper, harder. 

“if that’s what you want,” he hums—you want to scoff at him, but you’re too delirious. you’d tease him for acting like he doesn’t want the same, like the ache of his cock doesn’t crave more friction, doesn’t want to slam into you with little to no self-control outside of chasing his pleasure. you feel so good around him—so good, his head falls to your shoulder as he pants harshly into your ear, murmuring stammered praises. “s-so good, sweetheart. you always take me so good, like the pretty thing you are. how in teyvat did i score the affections of fontaine’s most radiant lady? o-only the gods could know.”

“why don’t you ask them,” you breathe, head pressing against the pillow as your back arches and your toes curl when he slams his swollen tip against your sweet spot once more, hips rolling in perfect precision, “ask them how you got so blessed.”

“maybe i’ll ask the divinity right before me,” he hums smoothly, chuckling when you mewl as his thumb rubs faster into your clit, “how did i get so lucky?”

“because i need you,” you whine, “n-need you—only you.”

“what a sweet answer,” he groans, pumping his cock into you faster, feeling the familiar twitch indicating he’s close—and you are too. he can tell from the erratic squeeze of your walls. “always spoiling me, right sweetheart?”

“wriothesley,” you cry, “i-i’m close. m’so close, please. please.”

“no need to say please, baby,” he grunts, “you can have whatever you want. when you want it, yeah?”

and just like that, you break—his thumb is still rubbing those harsh circles into you swollen clit as you cum, clenching down on him through your high as your mouth parts and your head presses deeper into the pillow. he’s fucking into you, still slamming his hips into you as mercilessly as before, riding you through your orgasm as you chant his name. 

“wri—wriothesley,” you sob.

“yeah, sweetheart? what is it?” he teases—it doesn’t last long, though. his bravado falls apart as soon as the first twitch of his cock indicates his own orgasm. you feel the hot, sticky, endless ropes of cum fill you up, coating your walls as he stiffens over you and shudders, groaning lowly as he empties himself into your sweet cunt. “f-fuck, you feel so good—you’re the only one. the. only. one.”

his hips thrust into you to punctuate the words, cock pushing his release deeper into you, messy and leaking down your thighs and forming a ring at the base of his length. it’s so filthy you almost think it’s a sin. but how could it be when it feels so right, so good?

finally, he slumps over your body, spent and panting as he finishes. you catch your breath under him, labored breath one after the other as your sweaty skin clings against his own.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs after some time, kissing the damp skin of your neck.

“i know,” you whisper cheekily, making him chuckle as he rolls over, pulling you into his chest.

“so humble,” he snorts.

“of course,” you beam, “but feel free to leave more compliments.”

“oh don’t worry, i won’t run out any time soon.”

it’s quiet for a bit, apart from your giggles and his low chuckles. soft, peaceful, and so painfully comforting, you wonder if heaven itself wishes for a place beside wriothesley. 

“when you first came up to the surface after your sentence,” you mumble after a few moments of quietness, tracing small loops into his chest as he silently hums for you to continue, “what was the first thing you did?”

“i got a croissant,” he answers thoughtfully, thumb rubbing circles into your hip where his hand is comfortably rested.

you blink, tilting your head to look up at him. his lips curve into a knowing grin.

“pardon?”

he laughs—it’s a beautiful thing. like a boy, eyes crinkled and lips freely curved so wide, you’d think his cheeks were endless with the way they expand to accommodate for such a large stretch. it’s the one time he doesn’t seem like the rugged man you usually know. something younger, more innocent, more raw comes out when wriothesley laughs.

“they go well with tea,” he shrugs, looking down at you, quickly stealing a peck of your nose, “and…” his voice is softer as he trails off, smile faltering.

“and?” you press delicately. so delicately, you’d think you were speaking to a house of cards, one word that’s breathed too harshly away from toppling over.

“and i wanted to visit a bakery i went to as a kid,” he murmurs quietly, voice dropping to a whisper as if he’s admitting something he’s never told anyone. something tells you he just might be. “there was an old lady who used to feed me sometimes when i was a kid on the streets. after i ran away. she’d give me a chocolate croissant and warm tea. i thought…i thought maybe there was a chance she’d still …”

he swallows, cutting his words off just before his voice has the chance to break. it’s a measured gesture. you know it is because you know him. just like you know the feelings of petals and thorns with your eyes closed, you know wriothesley. just like you can tell flowers apart from scent alone, you have him memorized. just like you know what every petal and its origin means, you understand him like it’s your job, too.

except you get paid to do this with something better than mora. with open-mouthed kisses and lingering touches. with coffee in a mug to complement the tea next to it. with strong arms to shield you when rain pours hard over your unsuspecting heads. with a gentle voice that learns to whisper back the language you speak better than anything else.

it says you’re the one i need the most, like rainbow roses. i miss you so much, i ache for you, like mourning flowers. i’d shed blood for you to live, like dendrobiums. you’re what i desire more than anything else, like romaritimes. each word is carefully formed, fragile as it hangs from a singular point. like petals on a stem, his words blossom from the tip of his tongue, falling one by one to your awaiting hands as your thumb traces his lips.

they all tell you one thing—whether he says the words out loud or not, he tells you he loves you through the things he does say. every little promise, every compliment, every form of praise. they say one thing—i love you.

you have always felt loved around wriothesley. you know he loves you, even if you question it sometimes, even if you ache to hear it, you’re always reminded he does when those eyes soften as they look at you, training on you like they never want to look away.

he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you.

he loves you.

he loves you.

he loves you.

it always ends with he loves you.

“was she?” you whisper, finger tracing up his chest, along his neck and jaw until it cups his cheek tenderly. he shivers at the touch. “was she still there?”

gentleness isn’t something wriothesley is very familiar with. it raids his skin, takes over the territory that’s only known harshness, and conquers the scarred patches that are barren and empty from all the pain and desolation.

“no,” his voice is barely audible. “her son owns it now. the croissants still taste the same, though.”

“some things never change, i suppose,” you smile softly, leaning closer as your nose presses against his, “even when everything else does. it’s not so bad if you hold onto what you can.”

“and what if you have nothing?” he challenges, closing his eyes when you kiss his jaw sweetly and slowly inhaling a soft breath.

“i’m sure that’s never true,” you murmur, “there’s always something.”

“yeah? how optimistic of you,” he chuckles.

“i’m serious,” you pout, “there’s always a way to make do. look at cacti. they go ages without water, don’t they? and did you know naku weeds can survive being struck by lightning?”

“do you just compare everything to plants?” he asks in amusement, eyeing you with a charmed glint.

“of course,” you huff, “don’t you compare things to what you love most?”

he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. grazes his eyes over your supple skin he’s traced so many times, over the small crinkles by your eyes permanently etched from smiling so often, over the curve of your nose and lips he’s pressed his own against, over the two eyes that stare back at him and see him more than they do look.

and then he nods.

“yeah,” he admits, “i do.”

your lips are as sweet as the warm chocolate that coated his lips and chin as a child. your touch is as soft as the hands of his mother when he thought he could trust her. your eyes are as bright as the sun when he first saw it after years of dark, rusted walls. everything about you reminds him of his past, the better parts and the worst. all of it.

some of it is healing, and some of it hurts so raw he thinks he’ll bleed out. but your hands are dipped in gold, he thinks. they’d make the most infertile soil rich and filled with life, letting him blossom new again right where his blood spilled.

he’s reminded of you in everything he sees. tea reminds him of your coffee with too much milk. paperwork reminds him of how distressed you are by wasted pages and killed trees. his gauntlets remind him of your hands so small in comparison. he’s doomed, he thinks. cursed, even.

cursed to always remember you in everything.

so, of course, he compares everything to what he loves most. because why else would you reside in his mind so endlessly, taking up the space from one end all the way to the other? why else would you remind him of you in even the mundane of things if he didn’t love you so deeply, so purely, so easily, that you’re everywhere all at once, even when you’re nowhere in sight?

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply before letting out a slow, shaky breath.

“i lied,” he admits, making you frown.

“about?”

“about the first thing i did when i got to the surface,” he says quietly. “i went to my parents' graves.”

“to visit them?” you raise a confused eyebrow.

“no. to make sure they were really dead.”

“oh,” is all you say, staring into his eyes as he waits for you to say something more. “well, were they dead?”

“yes,” he snorts, closing his eyes and huffing out a small laugh. “very much so.”

“well, that’s a relief,” you giggle, “otherwise, you’d have served a sentence for murder for nothing.”

“good thing i didn’t, huh?”

“good thing you didn’t,” you nod, grinning as he stares at you softly.

“i’ll take you one of these days,” he hums quietly after a moment. you look surprised, eyes widening as you process the words.

“to your parents' grave?”

“to the bakery,” he rolls his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. “i don’t think my dead mother would appreciate me bringing back a woman after i killed her.”

“oh, very funny,” you scowl, glaring at him.

“you think so?” he winks, laughing when you gently shove his face away, making his hand grab at your wrist and bite gently into the skin.

you squeal, giggling as he nibbles into your skin. “stop that, you brute!” you demand in between laughs.

it’s quiet for a moment as the laughter settles down, just you and him. him and you. silence echoing off the walls and warmth radiating between your bodies, the sheets clinging to your bare skin. you can feel his bare hip brush against yours. it’s intimate—far more intimate than either of you are used to, but not unwelcome.

he turns, pulling you into his arms and pressing your foreheads together. you think that’s his favorite position to be in—when your faces are so close, they touch. when his eyes can bore into yours. when he can feel the warmth of you tickling his skin as you breathe, as you talk, as you exist before him.

“you’ll like the croissants,” he adds quietly, thoughtfully, “the blackberry ones are particularly nice with the lemon and mint tea—”

you cut him off. before you can think. the words fly past your lips, swept with the breeze like dandelion seeds, and carried through the room as they find shelter in every little crevice. they’ll be here, in every corner, in every little place, a memento of your first real confession.

“i love you.”

he pauses as you cut him off, blinking as he stares at you. something flashes in his eyes—fear, excitement, a small bit of shock and doubt that makes your heartache. you can read him like a book.

it’s not doubt because he thinks you lie. it’s doubt because he thinks it shouldn’t be him. you know that, and you’re prepared to patiently prove him he’s wrong. little by little. day by day. one kiss at a time.

“that’s really enthusiastic,” he shoots you a teasing grin, too easy and too practiced for your liking, “if i knew you liked croissants that much—”

“no, wriothesley,” you say gently, like your words could rock the boat and topple you both into a dangerous, unforgiving current any moment. “i love you. i love when you tell me things you don’t like sharing, and i love when you show me things that are hard to revisit. i love you. because you try, and you’re good at trying. and that’s enough.”

“getting sentimental on me?” he asks hoarsely, smiling tightly.

your hand cups his cheek again, pulling him in so you can kiss the corner of his mouth as you whisper, “yes.” your lips find the other side of his mouth, still at the corner as you whisper again. “because you deserve to hear nice things. even the cheesy ones.”

his eyes close. one moment turns to two, and you let him take his time. let him swallow as he takes a shallow breath before he opens them again and looks at you.

he’s laid bare before you. in more ways than one. being nude is easier than being seen—he trusts you enough to let himself be both.

“you deserve to hear nice things, too,” he admits. it’s not the same as admitting he loves you too, but it’s as close as he can get—still difficult enough that his voice breaks. like it’s hard for him to confess something like this.

it is.

it’s hard for him to tell someone he loves them. the last time he did, he felt the sucker punch of betrayal in his guts, so young that he hardly understood what it meant to be betrayed at all. he watched the same eyes he used to think were his saviors die out as blood spilled in the living room, where his tiny feet padded across as he ran around and played. he misses them sometimes, even now.

his mother’s beautiful green eyes that greeted him in the mornings as she kissed him awake, warm and gentle on his forehead. his father’s deep blue ones that would look at him proudly as he grew and grew, clasping his shoulder with that firmly affectionate grip.

sometimes, he misses them, misses what he thought he had. other times, he’s glad he did it. sometimes, in the dead of night, when it’s just him, he mourns the old him. the one that didn’t have blood on his hands, the him that didn’t have to take two lives to set so many free. the version of him that was allowed to be a boy who existed freely, no taxes to pay for the love he so desperately wanted.

love is wicked like that—it creeps up on you, takes pieces of you, and changes you until you can hardly recognize yourself. until you can hardly recognize everyone around you. how long has it been since he’s seen his siblings? can he even still call them that? do they remember him? would he even recognize them?

he still loves them in his own way. his precious little sisters camille and lucie, and his sweet baby his brothers alexandre and nicolas—he came back and set them free just before it was their time. he didn’t want to leave them, but he had no choice. there were ones who left before him, a time that he can hardly remember anymore. a time before him and antoine. but he recalls them being so delicate with him just as older siblings should be. did they make it out of whatever fate they were sealed to? were they disposed of with no witnesses to bring their demises to justice? he doesn’t know. it’s easier not to know.

it’s easier not to love at all than to open up the risk of hurting. every person he’s ever loved has caused him pain. even the innocent siblings who did nothing wrong—all he’s ever known is pain. the pain of not having them around anymore. the pain of their quiet demise. the pain of setting them free and letting them go. the pain of never having them to himself like a proper family.

loving is so hard for him, so hard on him. so unforgiving to him. so cruel and harsh to him that he hides away behind guarded fists and loaded punches. and you know it, too—he knows you do because you reward his confession with the softest kiss you’ve ever given him as soon as he spills the words.

“i love you,” you murmur the sweet words into his mouth between warm kisses, “i love you. i love you.”

“say it again,” he pleads. it’s easier to let you love him than it is to love you—you don’t mind letting him be a little selfish. he deserves it, in fact.

“i love you. more than anything i’ve ever loved.”

“promise me,” he begs.

“i promise,” you say firmly. “and you don’t have to say it back, not yet. but i want you to know it because you should know you’re loved.”

all at once, the vines wrapped around his chest release, one petal blooming across his heart and arteries at a time until the nectar is running through his veins.

it’s warm. it’s sunny. it’s soft. it’s so, so safe. it doesn’t hurt. it never does with you. you never let it.

“i love you too,” he croaks. he shivers as he says it before he’s grinning slowly, chuckling in wonder as he lets the words sink in before he repeats again, “i love you.”

“yeah?” you beam, eyes crinkling as joy tucks itself into the crevices.

he nods. “yes. and your weird nature lectures.”

you pout, making him laugh. “hey—”

“and your annoyingly aromatic house with petals everywhere—”

“they’re not everywhere—”

“and that ugly dog watering can of yours—”

“it kind of reminds me of you, so—”

“i love them all, and i want them for the rest of my life. i hope you take it easy on the snapdragons, though. i think i’m allergic.”

“such a romantic at heart,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. but they’re glassy, swelling with unshed, precious little tears.

he kisses your eyelids as you close your eyes, murmuring, “i’m doing my best here. cut me some slack, i’ve never dated someone before.”

“oh, wriothesley,” you sniffle, tears coating your sun-soaked skin. and despite the evidence of tears, he’s never seen joy on your face like this before—so clear and radiant. “who taught you about romance? you’re hopeless.”

“hopelessly in love with you,” he shoots back smugly, wiggling his brows.

“i’m doomed,” you snort, letting out a watery chuckle.

“yeah,” he says cheekily, “you are. i hope you’re prepared.”

you kiss him in reply. he kisses you, too. you kiss each other. flowers bloom everywhere your lips touch—wriothesley swallows every petal gratefully.

you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not.

you love him.

you love him.

you love him.

it always ends with you love him.

and he loves you, too. you both love each other. the words bounce from both of your tongues like you take turns tasting them, feeling them, familiarizing yourselves with them.

it doesn’t matter who whispers the words first or who murmurs them last. no matter who breaks the silence, it always ends with i love you.

ITS FINISHED. WOW. i never thought a flower shop drabble was going to turn into this—i actually had a completely different flower shop au idea that was going to be a long fic but i just wanted to write a tiny practice round drabble to get the itch out my system before i had time to sit down for the full fic. well as you can see…the practice run kind of took a mind of its own so now we have this. LOL. i think perhaps i will also write the other idea but we will see!!! this one kind of replaced the other one in my heart as flower shop wrio lore lol 🥸

ANYWAY!!! i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. idk if wrio was ooc or not or if i did his past and trauma justice but i certainly tried!! all the things about his past with the siblings and his mother's diary and the croissant at the bakery are all headcanons i carefully crafted and hold so so so dear. they are my truth!!! and they make me fall in love with him so much more deeply :( anyway! if you liked it then as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated. now if you’ll excuse me, i will be doodling his name in pink glitter pen with hearts in my diary and giggling.

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 

however, that’s when you came along. 

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo. 

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 

again, neither of you care. 

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 

“are you sure, baby?” 

“please—“ 

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 

“o-oh! seishiro!” 

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 

“do you think I can do it?” 

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[its-avalon-08]

i love hearts intertwined. how did you think of that idea? like what was ur inspiration?? cause its hella creative props to u also can i ask for a y/n x oscar piastri where oscar gets jealous about how close you are to lando since you both grew up together. he gets all cold and distant. he starts ignoring you. you brush it off for a few days but it gets too much. he hears you cry to lando over the phone and he rushes in in tears to apologize. make it angsty with happy ending

hi! thanks for all ur support!! as for how i come up with ideas, i just think about what i would like to read and then i just get started by brainstorming on how i want to write them. as for "hearts intertwined" i have been loving the idea of rosberg!sister falling for lewis because it has all the tropes ever (brothers (ex) best friend, enemies to lovers, rivals, friends to enemies to strangers to lovers)! anyway here's your story! hope you enjoy!

my heart hurts (op81)

the clinking of silverware and murmur of conversation filled the bustling restaurant. you and oscar had finally snagged a quiet corner table after a long day of practice. across from you, lando held court, recounting a hilarious story from your childhood.

"and then, there was the great custard incident," lando boomed, his laughter echoing. "remember, (y/n), when you-"

you doubled over, giggling. "oh my god, lando, don't!" heat rose to your cheeks at the memory, a childhood prank that involved a particularly disgruntled neighbor and a runaway bowl of dessert.

oscar, however, remained silent, his fork poised mid-air, a frown creasing his forehead. he watched you, his gaze lingering a little too long on the way your laughter lines crinkled around your eyes, the way your hand brushed against lando's arm playfully as you swatted him away.

lando, thankfully, oblivious to the undercurrent, continued, "and there you were, covered in custard, trying to explain to mrs. henderson it was just a... 'culinary experiment'."

you snorted, tears welling up in your eyes. "god, i miss those days." you reached out, bumping fists with lando playfully. "thanks for always having my back, even when i was a disaster."

a beat of uncomfortable silence followed. lando, finally noticing oscar's stony expression, cleared his throat. "right, well, enough about the past. oscar, how's the car feeling this week?"

oscar forced a smile, his tone clipped. "good. ready to take on the track." his gaze flickered back to you, a flicker of something akin to hurt in his eyes before he turned back to his plate, pushing the food around with a distinct lack of appetite.

the rest of the meal was strained. you tried including oscar in the conversation, but his responses were short, devoid of his usual easy banter. you stole worried glances at him, the carefree joy of your reunion with lando now tinged with a growing sense of unease.

as you exited the restaurant, lando clapped oscar on the shoulder. "good luck this weekend, mate. you'll smash it."

oscar mumbled a response, his eyes glued to the ground. the walk back to your apartment was filled with a suffocating silence. you knew, with a sickening certainty, that the carefree evening you envisioned had taken a sharp turn into jealousy lane

the silence in the car was deafening. oscar, usually a chatterbox during drives, hadn't uttered a word since leaving the restaurant. you kept glancing at him, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "what's wrong, oscar?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.

he shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "nothing." but his tone was clipped, a stark contrast to his usual warmth.

his hand did not hover near your thigh, he didn't kiss you at the red lights, he didn't ask if you were cold with the AC. oscar had shut himself out.

over the next few days, "nothing" became your new normal. oscar became a ghost, barely acknowledging you. you'd catch him staring at you, then quickly look away. calls and texts went unanswered. you tried brushing it off, clinging to the hope it was just race week jitters, but the sinking feeling in your gut wouldn't budge. while sleeping he would mummer a goodnight and barely cuddle,

tonight, the dam broke. curled on the couch, tears blurring your vision, you dialed lando. "he's just being weird, lan," you choked out, your voice thick with unshed tears. "like, distant. like i don't even exist. i can't lose him lan, i really can't. but i'll leave if he wants because i just want him to be happy. even if it means its not with me"

suddenly, the front door slammed open. you flinched, dropping the phone. oscar stood frozen, his face pale, your tear-streaked cheeks a stark picture in the dim light. he had heard everything.

"(y/n), i..." his voice cracked, a battle raging in his eyes. before he could finish, a fresh wave of tears welled up. "oscar, what did i do?"

he took a shaky step towards you, then stopped. "i am so so so so so sorry baby." the confession tumbled out, raw and laced with shame. "i regret what i did. it hurt my heart being away from you. on purpose. seeing you with lando, so close... it made me jealous."

you stared at him, bewildered. "jealous? oscar, lando's practically my brother. we grew up together!"

he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "i know, i know. it's stupid. but seeing you laugh with him, the laugh you kept just for me..." his voice trailed off, heavy with regret.

a choked sob escaped your lips. "oscar, you're the one i love. the way i look at lando, it's nothing compared to you." you stood up, tears falling freely.

he mirrored your movement, his face etched with pain. "i messed up, (y/n). i let my insecurities cloud everything." his voice broke. "can you forgive me?"

you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. he held you tight, his body trembling.

"just promise me," you whispered, pulling back slightly, "a) you'll tell me when something bothers you and b) you'll never let jealousy come between us again."

he cupped your face, his eyes filled with newfound resolve. "never. you and lando, your friendship is beautiful. i'll never take that away." he leaned in, his kiss a promise whispered against your lips.

the following days were filled with apologies, laughter, and tentative rebuilding. oscar apologized to lando, acknowledging his insecurities. you realized communication, even the uncomfortable kind, was the key.

that sunday, as you watched oscar race, a different kind of excitement bubbled within you. it wasn't just about his victory, but the fact that you had weathered the storm, emerging stronger as a couple. the bond you shared, forged in vulnerability and love, was a trophy far more valuable than any podium finish.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 / 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request! -> "paige with teammate!reader? it’d be soo cute i think" | you and paige were best friends on and off the court, and after an exhilarating win you spend the time together, relishing in the win (and each other)

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | mention of drinking/partying, slightly suggestive, just idiots who are in love with one another, touchy paige (obvs), slightly oblivious reader, energy drink abuse 🤑, lots of teasing/banter, confession that turns into ... A SWEET KISS DUHHH

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed, this may a little too fast-paced but i would totally be down to writing a whole full-fleshed out fic on just this concept cus it's so cute! anyway, enjoy!

"THERE IS NO WAY we're gonna drink right now," Azzi yawned as she leaned back into the hotel bed.

You and Paige exchanged glances before laughing, your expressions both mirroring one another. You were both still high off of the win, you weren't sure how everyone was up right now screaming with excitement. But there was still some exhaustion lingering in Paige's expression ─ of course you didn't blame her, she'd played the entire time.

The whole team was downstairs celebrating right now but the three of you decided to take a short break and go back to Azzi's room to relax. That 'short' break turned into fifteen minutes and then now, it's been almost forty.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Azzi continued.

You groaned dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, Azzi."

Before Paige could join you, Azzi gave you both a pointed look. You realized that there was no way either of you could convince her to come back downstairs so you just sighed. You and Paige glanced at each other again before she gestured to get up and the both of you got up from Azzi's bed.

You got up and made your way to the door while Paige followed behind you. "So, we gonna go back downstairs or..."

"My room?" Paige's eyebrows raised as you gave her a grin and nodded. Paige's hand instinctively found a place on the small of your back as she began leading you to her room.

As she led you to her room, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Sure, you and Paige had been close friends for years, but there was always an underlying tension between you, something unspoken yet very noticable.

Once inside Paige's room, she closed the door behind you with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room.

Paige didn't waste any time, she crashed into the bed with a thud and an exhausted groan as you let out a small laugh. "I'm so sore," she groaned as you joined her on the bed.

She glanced up to meet your gaze with a smile. "How tired are you, from like... one to ten?"

"Maybe like... a six?" You responded as you leaned back on the headboard. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure you won't fall asleep, like last time." Paige teased as you rolled your eyes.

"That was one time!" You you protested with a playful swat at Paige's arm. "And I was exhausted from the bus ride, you can't blame me for dozing off."

Paige chuckled as she sat up and scooted closer to you. "Sure, sure. We'll just have to make sure tonight is more exciting than whatever boring movie we were watching last time."

"Yeah well, I don't think I'm falling asleep. I had like, three redbulls." You mention casually as Paige's jaw drops slightly.

"Dude, that's so bad for you." Paige's expression was filled with concern but she couldn't help the amusement in her tone. "Jeez, you're gonna have a heart attack right here, on my bed."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "It's worth it for the win, don't you think?"

Paige chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," you teased, nudging her playfully with your elbow.

Paige's laughter filled the room, warm and infectious. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do," she admitted with a smile, her eyes softening as she looked at you.

You noticed how her gaze lingered on your features for far longer than any friend would have and you definitely didn't miss the way she wet her lips as she looked away. Your stomach flipped and you felt yourself begin to feel warm, you had no idea why little things like that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

Was it just the adrenaline from the game, or was there something more?

"Have you showered yet?" Paige asked, seemingly out of nowhere as you laughed at her randomness.

"Yeah, right after the game. Did you?"

Paige sighed as she leaned back into the bed, a yawn escaping her lips. "I did but only my body, I haven't washed my hair. I wanna shower but I also wanna stay here, with you."

"Well you can do both," you replied as Paige's smirk widened. You quickly rolled your eyes as a blush began to appear on your face. "Not like that, I meant you can shower and then I'll just hang out in your room."

"Or you can come in the bathroom with me," Paige got up from the bed. "So we can talk and stuff, just look away when I'm naked."

You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's suggestion, the blush on your cheeks deepening at the thought of being so close to her in such an intimate setting.

"Are you sure about that?" you teased, trying to hide your nerves behind a playful tone.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

You chuckled nervously, you couldn't argue with that logic. Your cheeks flush at the memory of the countless times you and Paige had shared changing rooms or gone swimming together.

After years of friendship, there were few boundaries left between you and Paige. Still, the idea of being alone with her in the warm confines of the bathroom sent a rush of nervousness through you.

"Yeah, but this is different," you pointed out, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect.

Paige's smile softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "It's okay, I promise I won't make it weird. We're just two friends hanging out, right?"

"Fine, okay." You sighed as you let Paige pull you into the bathroom. You quickly faced the door as Paige ran the water to the hottest temperature.

As Paige stepped into the shower, you took a seat on the closed toilet lid, trying your best to keep your gaze averted as she began to lather up her hair. You kept your gaze fixed firmly on the door, trying to ignore the tantalizing temptation of stealing a glance at Paige. I mean, if she was in your situation, she definitely wouldn't have hid her ultimate glimpse.

Paige's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present moment. "So, how's your shoulder feeling after the game?"

You blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Oh, it's not too bad," you replied. You had injured your shoulder at practice a couple weeks ago and it didn't hurt too bad anymore, Paige was just being over-protective.

Paige nodded, her movements becoming more relaxed. "That's good. I almost lost my shit when that girl hit your shoulder, I thought she hurt you or something."

You laughed as you shook your head. "I know, I could tell. It got us a foul shot, didn't it?"

Paige chuckled, a hint of relief evident in her voice. "I know, a win's a win. I'm glad it didn't hurt too bad, though. I would've killed her if she got you even more injured,"

You grinned at Paige's protective streak, appreciating the fierce loyalty she had always shown you. "I don't doubt it for a second,"

"Good cus I would've, trust me." Paige joked as she finished up her shower and stepped out, causing you to shut your eyes. Paige laughed as she rolled your eyes at your dramatics.

"Alright, drama queen," Paige teased, reaching for a towel to dry off. "You can open your eyes now."

You both made your way out of the bathroom, you got on the bed with a thud as Paige began to get dressed. You kept your eyes on the phone screen, ignoring Paige's laughter. After she'd gotten dressed, she put on her glasses on got into bed.

You felt the mattress shift as Paige settled in beside you, her warmth radiating against your side. You finally tore your gaze away from your phone screen, unable to resist the urge to sneak a glance at her. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, her glasses perched on her nose.

"You played good tonight," Paige spoke as she smiled contently at you. This moment felt really intimate, the dimmed lights and the warmth of being so close to Paige. "And you looked so damn good," her tone was amused but you didn't miss the slightly serious undertone beneath her words.

"Thanks," your voice was soft as you returned her smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her compliment. "You were amazing out there too but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you."

Paige's smile widened at your words, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Well, it wouldn't hurt," she joked as you let out a chuckle. "But seriously, though," she continued, her gaze locking with yours, "you looked incredible tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Your heart skipped a beat at Paige's words, it was rare for her to be so openly affectionate and genuine, and yet here she was, laying her feelings bare for you to see.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Paige continued. "I'm proud of you, genuinely. Tonight was just kind of like..." she paused, unsure of how to say it. "I don't know, but I just admire you a lot. In more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" Your voice came out quiet and slightly breathless as your heart raced.

Paige laughed nervously. "I don't know, I've always thought you were really pretty. And super funny, you always match my vibe. You took care of me when I was injured and even in my worst moments I never felt like you were against me. I like being around you and like... it's different than with KK or Ice or anyone else on the team, or anyone else I know."

"Am I... uh, making you uncomfortable?" Paige spoke after a pause.

You took a moment to process Paige's words, feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Her confession caught you off guard, but at the same time, it filled you with a sense of ease.

"No, God, no. Not at all," you reassured her quickly, your voice soft, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm just... I'm really glad you feel that way. Because I feel the same, you know? Being around you, it's like... it's like being home."

If this was any other moment or any other person, you'd be cringing at that. But that was the honest-to-God truth and the only way you could possibly explain how she makes you feel.

Paige's gaze softened, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. "Really?"

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, really. You're one of the most incredible people I know, Paige. And... I'm just really grateful to have you in my life."

"I've been meaning to tell you that for a while now," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us, especially with the team and all."

"Me too, I don't know when I started liking you like that but when I realized it, I was like 'oh shit'." You joked as you let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige's lips curled into a grin, laughing along with you. "Yeah, 'oh shit' pretty much sums it up,"

There was a moment of silence for a couple seconds as you glanced back at Paige, feeling the weight of the moment. You'd just confessed your feelings for the girl you'd liked since... well, since the moment you'd met her, basically.

"So, what now?" You whispered as you broke the silence, feeling her gaze on you.

Paige's gaze softened as she met your eyes, a tender smile playing at her lips. She took your hand in her lap, pulling you closer. You mirrored her smile as her hand moved up to cup your cheek, you felt your breath hitch as her gaze moved down to your lips.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down as Paige's touch sent a rush of warmth coursing through you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from hers, the intensity of the moment holding you captive.

"We take things one step at a time," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, yet it echoed in the quiet space between you. "And right now, I want to be here with you."

Paige's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her eyes dark with emotion. "Is this okay?

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

Paige leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she closed the distance between you. The touch of her lips against yours was soft and careful, it felt like time slowed down. She pulled you even closer as you let her explore your mouth, letting a pleased noise.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of emotion swell within you as Paige's warmth enveloped you in a comforting embrace. It was as if everything you had ever felt for her, every longing and desire, was finally being realized in one single, perfect moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of excitement coursing through you.

You were too enveloped in the kiss to hear the hotel room open, the only thing either you felt was the weight of one another.

"Oh shit!" KK's voice made you two pull away from each other as quickly as you could, your eyes wide as you caught your breath. Ice quickly followed behind her, looking confused until she took in the scene in front of her.

You and Paige scrambled to compose yourselves, cheeks flushed and hearts racing as you exchanged glances. KK stood in front of the bed, her eyes wide with surprise but her lips curved into a smirk, while Ice stared at the two of you with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"You owe me 50$ dollars," Ice blurted as she looked back at KK, a smile on her face.

"Shit, yeah. I should've listened to you and Aubrey." KK rolled her eyes as you and Paige exchanged confused looks.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, a note of confusion in your voice.

"We made a bet on whether you two would finally admit your feelings for each other tonight," Ice explained, her tone amused. "KK said that you guys would confess to each other later but me and Aubrey could tell, tonight would be the night."

Paige's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips forming an 'o' of realization. "Wait, you guys were betting on us?" she exclaimed, annoyance in her tone.

KK chuckled, nodding. "Uh, yeah. It wasn't like you guys hid it very well."

"Paige had the worst case of heart eyes I've ever seen... like ever," Ice added, unable to suppress a smirk. "I mean, it was practically written all over her face every time she looked at you."

Paige's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't suppress a smirk at Ice's teasing. "Can you blame me? Have you seen her?"

Your cheeks flushed as you averted from their gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and flattery at Paige's words. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at her compliment, even as you tried to conceal your blush.

Ice and KK exchanged amused glances, their smiles widening at the banter between you and Paige. "Well, I think it's safe to say the feeling's mutual," KK remarked with a grin.

You glanced back at Paige, feeling a surge of affection for her as you met her gaze.

"I take either cash or Apple Pay, your choice." Ice glanced at KK as she groaned, taking out her wallet. But your gaze didn't falter from Paige as her hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing it.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[paigebueckersmommy]

court side - p.b

dom!paige x reader

warning: 18+, smut, p eating

you and paige had been dating 4 months, but to the outside world you were just best friends. she had gotten you courtside tickets to her game against duke. you were wearing her jersey with a pair of jeans you knew she loved on you, and with her jersey added on top of that, you knew she would be going crazy.

you arrived to the arena 30 minutes before the game was scheduled to start. the time had passed and when the player walked in, you had your back turned to where the players were coming out of talking with a fan of paige’s.

when paige had walked out you only knew because the cheers just got louder, you turned around and felt paige’s eyes on you and the smirk you loved across here face. you smiled back and started blushing. by halftime your throat hurt from cheering in your girlfriend, screaming things such has “YES KK”, “YOU GOT IT P”, “YES ASH U GOT IT” and more, supporting the rest of her teammates whom you adored. you felt paige’s eyes on you periodically through the game, wether it was because of how tight your jeans were or the way your jersey looked on her. when the red and blue confetti came down, your screams got even louder. you were so proud of paige, she was the best thing that had came into your life.

you were on the court post game and was celebrating with the team, you went back to your apartment anticipating the sound of paige’s keys jingling in your door. you were on your couch with youtube on the tv watching paige’s best highlights, you just couldn’t get enough of the way she played the sport she loved.

when you finally heard the sound of her keys i got so excited and ran to the door, i was still wearing her jersey and a pair of spandex, which she also loved to see me in. “hey mama” paige said with a grin when she opened my door, “hi baby” you say giggling as she pulls you in for a kiss. “the kiss immediately becomes heated, she picks you up to carry you to your bedroom, “your such a slut, wearing that to my game? you distracted me.” paige said, with an angry undertone, but the smirk curling up in the left side of her face. knowing she wasn’t being serious, you replied. “aw i’m so sorry, is that why you were being so agressive in the game?” “damn right, you were all i could think about during the post game interview.” paige said.

she hovers over you as she kisses you, only for you to push her off. “i’m taking control tonight” you say with a grin full of lust. “oh really? we’ll see how you do with it.” paige says cockily. you are now hovering over her in a passionate kiss. you kiss your way down her body with paige murmuring curse words your whole way down, “mm fuck please ma”, paige says with desperation. you reach her clothes pussy, already so wet. “your already this wet, hm? i thought ‘we’ll see how i do’ am i doing good?” i say with a grin of cockiness, “so damn good pretty girl, your doing so damn good” your girlfriend says already out of breath. i slip my tongue in between her folds, earning a breathy moan from paige, i giggle against her pussy with satisfaction. paige had the prettiest pussy i had ever seen, which sounds impossible but everything about it was perfect. i started sucking on her clit, earning multiple moans from paige i a row, i enter my toung into her throbbing cunt and a few min ur es later paige’s releases under me. “holy shit holy shit fuck fuck” paige says breathlessly. i come back from in between her legs, around my mouth soaked with her juices, my toung still having remnants of her cum. “holy fuck you’re so good at that,” paige says, still recovering from her orgasm. “oh really? you thought i couldn’t make you cum P?” i said, savoring paige’s taste.

i clean up my mouth and chin in the bathroom, coming back to paige i lay down next to her. i tucked her hair behind her ear, saying “i love you paige, more than anyone.” paige smiles, which makes me smile. her smile could light up any room it needed to. paige kisses you, slipping her Toung into your mouth grazing your teeth. “i love you more than you will ever know, my beautiful girl.” paige says in the soft voice that makes me practically melt.

a/n: im so sorry this was really short and my spelling is off 😭

[lettersofalover]

-> flashing lights | paige b | social media au part one

part two

paige x fem!college!reader

summary: the media student assigned to athletics is as cute as can be with an eye for shooting a certain blondie

yn.jpg: junior year talk to me niiiiice. happy to announce i got placed with women’s athletics as my photographer practicum. this barbie’s job is sports!!!

bestieuser : go best friend that’s my best friend

frienduser1: if you see kk pls tell her i love her

yn.jpg replied: no 🫶🏽

frienduser2: you? sports? what’s going on at uconn

yn.jpg replied: the lack of faith is astounding

frienduser3: can i be your plus one, i’m just trying to be friends with paige

sororitysisuser: that’s my little!!! so proud of you lil bit

yn.jpg: paige 🫱🏼‍🫲🏽 azzi using all my film w the cutest photos - so excited for the season

paigebueckers: looooove youuuuu

uconnwbb: dynamic duo 😤

frienduser1: get out this is so cute and fun!!

frienduser2: its the way you went from 2k followers to 10k

yn.jpg replied: the uconn effect 😮‍💨

kkarnold: ball hogs and camera hogs

yn.jpg replied: tell me about it

paigebeuckers: i’m really a model fr

yn.jpg replied: something like that

sororitysisuser: my little is making the fam proud

yn.jpg: i think i like this little life 🏀 p.b shot by yours truly

kkarnold: real shooter and i’m not talking about number 5

azzifudd: every picture is better than the last me next!!

paigebueckers: hanging this in my room

paigebueckers: this is hard

yn.jpg: just wait for the rest of the season 🤞🏽

frienduser1: more paige content pls

sororitysisteruser: you’re in your element and thriving

yn.jpg: the camera loves paige and she loves it back

yn.jpg: a little trip to the city with portraits of me courtesy of my second shooter

sororitysis: the matching outfits are cracking me up

kkarnold: two peas a pod or whatever they say

azzifudd replied: i think it’s dumb and dumber fr

paigebueckers: what would you have done without me

yn.jpg replied: had more stable blood pressure probably

yn.jpg replied: kidding, luv u pbj

yn.jpg: mood because i completed my sports media practicum, art showing, and people bought my work!! fall break can’t end fast enough. ready to be back on court with my girls!!

paigebueckers: congratulations, you deserve it

yn.jpg replied: couldn’t have asked for a better player to photograph

kkarnold: that’s OUR media girl

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 - TRIO LIN KUEI + FRIEND!READER | PART 2 - AFTER BI HAN'S BETRAYAL .

A/N: This is a continuation of this post here, you don't need to read it, but it's good to give some context.

TW: afab reader, smut, angst, dark!bi han, nsfw, plot follows the canon line of mk1 (with the ending of tomas, kuai liang and bi han), tomas x reader, bi han x reader, soft!dom bi han, v!sex, oral (f!re), temperature!play.

✧ ENDING 1 | STAY WITH KUAI LIANG AND TOMAS VRABADA

The news that bi han had become a tyrant and had betrayed lin kuei values ​​came as a shock to you. Seeing Kuai Liang and Tomas with looks of anger and disappointment broke your heart - mainly due to the fact that they packed all their personal belongings in a hurry, afraid of what might happen if Bi Han found them there after the fight they had.

You didn't know what to think at that moment, it seemed like the weather had frozen, your knees felt weak thinking that Bi Han, the grand master who welcomed you, pampered you and made you feel loved... He had become a monster.

Kuai Liang reached out to you, telling you that he would form another clan. "-Come with me and Tomas, let's be great... Without bi han and his insanity for power." the pyromancer looked at you expectantly, along with Tomas, who placed his hand on your shoulder, while smiling slightly at you. "-Come with us dear, I promise we will protect you from our brother's wrath, I know he is important to you, it hurts both of us too but..." Vrbada pauses for a while, thinking about the harsh words his older brother he had told him at Liu Kang Temple, hours before. "-But he's not the same anymore..."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, but you made the decision to go with the two - after all, they were yours for many years, you met Kuai Liang first, but your heart was still heavy for Bi Han - The three of you left at dawn, without doing anything, no noise or attracting attention, but you knew there was someone watching you, the air was freezing, and you knew it was sub zero in the distance, but he just had a look... Sad? Disappointment perhaps? Small tears could be seen, but he pushed them away as he watched you walk away from him, the grandmaster would blame everything but you. "-It was Kuai Liang and Tomas' fault... I'm sure... You wouldn't abandon me willingly... Right, my bunny?" Bi Han whispered to himself, trying to contain the discomfort that haunted his chest, returning to his quarters... He wasn't going to give up on you, but for now, he wasn't going to do anything, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take what was his by right... You.

You, Kuai and Tomas met Harumi, and it hurt a little to see your best friend leave you a little aside for being in love with someone else, but you understood that Scorpion would also have to have a love life. You and Tomas kept seeing the couple from afar, while smiling at seeing Liang so in love with her - even naming the new Shiray Ryu clan after her - with that, you and the smoke ninja became closer... A lot closer.

Vrbada started giving you gifts, asking you out, he was courting you little by little, trying to move from just friendship for many years to something more. After all, he always liked you romantically but never had the courage to say something, he asked Kuai Liang and even Harumi for some advice, which motivated him to speak up and confess his feelings for you.

But it was little Hanzo who made everything work out between you two, on one training day you saw him pull your shirt and point at Tomas, saying loudly: "-(Y/N) Tomas likes you! Because Don't you two stay together?" Smoke blushed deeply feeling exposed, but grateful to see your smile at him while you yourself asked him out that night. He was a blushing mess as he stuttered, handing you a bouquet of flowers, he was totally dressed up when he picked you up at home, wearing light colored formal clothes that hugged his muscles.

The night was pleasant, with Tomas trying to say everything he felt, everything he kept close to his chest during years of friendship, he knew that you were still thinking about everything that happened in the lin kuei, but that you needed to move on. "-I always liked you darling... Your smile, the nights you slept between me and Kuai Liang, I was afraid of suffocating you sometimes, you know?" Vrbada smiled amusedly, taking your hands and giving each one a chaste kiss, massaging them with his thumb in circular movements. "-I promise that if you give me a chance, I will be the best partner for you (Y/N)... I know I've been your best friend for years, but, I want to be more, much more, stay with me, let's go try a new life... Together." He looked directly into your eyes, the same eyes that always lit up your day like the bluest sky, as you finally felt the Slav's lips press against yours, the moon illuminated you both and your worries were gone... Even if momentarily.

And this would obviously end on your bed, with Tomas on top of you covering your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise, his cock would plunge slowly and difficultly into your tight pussy, while he moaned hoarsely in your ear. "-Fuck-! Dear, stop squeezing me so hard, you're fucking gripping me... F-Fuck your pussy feels so good on my dick..."

Another thing that surprised you was how submissive Smoke was in bed, always asking 'please' to cum inside or for you to let him cum. He would cry like hell if he got overstimulated, babbling in his mother tongue as he cummed every last drop of cum in you. Vrbada enjoys just seeing your pleasure, watching you ride his face, while moaning his name loudly like a mantra, the poor man is already going to cum and whimper that he needs your pussy on him immediately - it was a pleasant surprise to see your best friend like that - especially how he liked to be praised while fucking you, looking directly at your face, calling him a "good boy" makes him come immediately inside you, while he whimpered and said "fuck" repeatedly with his mind broken with too much pleasure to be the rational ninja he always was.

Kuai Liang will smile at the two of you from afar, wanting to have a celebratory dinner to celebrate his brother's success and your passion - which practically every Shiray Ryu heard through Tomas' groans -, but don't be fooled, from afar, you could feel a cold look and now, cruel, Bi Han, he was furious and now more than ever he was going to take you from his brother's arms as a form of revenge for both of you, because now, the grand master was broken at the sight of the way you gave yourself up to Smoke, he wouldn't show any pity, and he would do whatever it took to make you see your mistake even if it meant killing everyone in his path, and that included everyone, even his own brothers, he would catch you whether you want it or not. But in the present, you were happy to be with Tomas, without knowing the troubled future that Bi Han planned for you...

✧ ENDING 2 - STAY WITH BI HAN

You couldn't believe it when you saw Bi Han come back and quickly change everything in the structures of the Lin Kuei clan, he was ruder, colder, but he tried to be as gentle as possible with you, as he always was and tried. You asked him about Kuai and Tomas, which made the grandmaster wrinkle his nose and say with contempt that they had betrayed him, hadn't followed his orders, and that now it was just the two of you against the world.

You knew that Bi Han was lying, but you felt the need to continue on his side, perhaps, with the false hope of making him see that Liu Kang was not the enemy of the Lin Kuei, that your clan served the earthly plane and I didn't need to dominate him. But, Bi Han was blinded by power, but he still wanted to have you around, he loved you and for years you were and were the only person who was closest to him - he didn't trust anyone like he trusted you, not even Sektor -, however this made you have to swear loyalty to the grand master and abandon your best friends. "-Good choice, I knew you were smarter than them... then lets go and make history my angel. Together, we will bring glory to the clan, and power to ourselves." Bi Han says as he walks in front of you to the Lin Kuei headquarters, while he held you tightly, as if he was afraid of losing you at any moment. "-After this war is over, we should go to my little sanctuary at the top of the mountain and stay there for a few days - just me, you, and nature..." he whispered in your ear, taking you to his room, which would now be yours too.

You never thought that Bi Han saw you as a potential love or partner, but from the way he treated you now - whispering sweet and possessive things in your ear, his big cold hands kneading the flesh of your hips lightly, the warm shower of herbs that he prepared just for you... It was obvious that he had feelings stored up for all the years of your friendship - "-Make yourself comfortable while I prepare everything else..." he soon takes you to the center of his bed , as he did rarely in the times when he was still your friend, he was still your bi han... But, he still loved you, he loved you more than you thought. "-You know that I don't just see you as a friend, right? All these years that were me, you and..." He pauses and a long sigh comes out of his lungs, as he looks at his hands, while He remembered his brothers but pushed away those thoughts of "weakness". "-Anyway... I always saw you as more than a future right-hand man for me, more than a friend, you understand, don't you my dear?" Bi Han kisses your neck, licking the drops of water that were still there. "-Just give yourself to me, let me make you my king/queen, you and I will be great, I promise no one will hurt you..."

Bi Han would be gentle with you, making you as comfortable as possible, even if he saw the worry in your eyes because of Vrbada and Liang, he would just bend down and give kisses to your clit, licking the sensitive expanse of your pussy, making you moan and arch your body for more contact with his skin. "-Yes... Just like that... I always knew you were meant for me... Since the first time we met my brother... I always loved you (Y/N)." With one hand firmly holding the waist, ensuring no slipping occurs during passionate thrusts; another arm around your neck, lightly choking just enough to make those beautiful sounds escape your lips even louder, now giving him perfect control over the pace and depth, fucking your pussy with longing and relief, relief of finally having you. have it just for him. "-Take it all. Show me how much you want my cock... Let's make up for lost time, yes, be my good boy/girl..." He moaned and growled in your ear, as he watched your face closely. "-Look at me when you cum- fuck I love you so much, I swear I'll kill anyone who dares take you from me." the grand master made a point of marking you visibly for everyone to see.

If Tomas and Kuai dare to look for you, Bi Han will show no mercy, he has become increasingly paranoid in fear of losing you and if one of them dares to take you to the shiray ryu he will show all the fury he has saved in years. You will be respected inside and outside the lin kuei, being the partner of the grand master, the second person with more power than sub zero himself.

However, you will live only for him, you will live only with him, not that that is a problem, after all Bi Han makes a point of spoiling you, jewelry, treasures or anything you want is yours... Just one word and he will destroy and rebuild the world just to see you smile, he loves you and is completely obsessed with you... so you will just deal with it.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[jacevelaryonswife]

The way that you move

It wasn’t appropriate for a lady of respect to desire the lusts of the flesh, but the fire in your bowels kept your mind trapped in a single and delicious setting

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x wife!reader

warnings: porn with 10% of plot. p in v sex. english is not my first language. 1,1k.

Even if it’s recent, your marriage to Prince Jacaerys was very promising and pleasant due to the commitment employed by both parties. Your husband was very polite, good-natured and kind, and you strove to be the proper and loving lady wife that Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir needed. In addition, the engagement period was charming and prepared the ground for a young and happy union, much better than most of the weddings of the other court ladies in all aspects, or almost all because unfortunately not everything was flowers. The subject in question referred to the misfortune moment of bed that tormented you and your husband.

Neither of you had experience, which made it a little traumatic for both of you, especially painful for you but quite fast too, proving to be a great relief (not crookedly for Jace). Throughout the act the prince remained redder than a ripe tomato and hated several aspects that were part of that situation, the first was not being able to reverse the pain you felt, because he didn’t know the female body to bring some relief to his good wife and because it ended up faster than dornish wine in celebrations. The precocity wasn’t at all bad for the situation, but it wasn’t exactly the virtue that a man should be proud of — but it served to your beautiful face was no longer dented with discomfort.

He apologized vehemently after that and assured that he didn't want to hurt you and that you didn't need to do it again without wanting to, a really sweet gesture that had you waving to him and ensuring that everything was fine. “My mother said the first contacts are painful for the chaste ladies,” you said. And in fact it was terribly uncomfortable, until last night...

Gods, what was that? It was the best physical feeling you felt in your life and it seemed so profane to admit it while letting pleasurable sounds escape your throat. It was so good! And that was the problem!

How should you approach your husband about repeating that night? It wasn’t appropriate for a lady of respect to desire the lusts of the flesh, but the fire in your bowels kept your mind trapped in a single and delicious setting, so your only mission that day was to find a demure way to ask your sweet Jace to make you come as your friends had instructed. What a scandal! There was no way to say this out loud, not even other ways to approach the topic seemed decent! Everything seemed like a complete disaster until the moon emerged and the inhabitants of Dragonstone gathered in your chambers, just like your husband and you.

The thick sheet that wrapped your body was responsible for hiding most of the bold and light blue lacy dress you wore, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the watchful eye of Prince Jacaerys, especially when he joined you in bed. That was the ideal moment to execute your plan in the urgency of the last minutes, which consisted solely of action.

"Jace, husband, can I kiss you?" You tried to contain the anxiety of what you wanted to happen next by leaning over it gently.

“Of course you can, my love,” he smiled sweetly and his beautiful brown eyes shone with tenderness. He was so adorable.

After many attempts (some slow and others sloppy) you understood a part of the mechanics of kisses and began to appreciate and perform the art often. His full and terribly soft lips were pressed so pleasantly against yours in the initially chaste kiss, who became sensual and lustful thanks to your desire. Oh, you couldn't wait any longer.

Climbing on his hips, you interrupted the kiss to face those beautiful brown eyes. "I want to do what we did last night."

“D-do you, my lady?” He asked surprised, "do you really want to?"

“Yes, husband,” you purred and kissed him deliciously again, playing with his tongue as you moved your intimacy dressed over his groin, making you both sigh. “I want it now,” you said during the kiss, sitting in the center of his body to remove the dress and expose your naked body.

The poor prince followed the whole situation astonished, stunned by his newly existing disinhibition but not a little dissatisfied (just worried). "M-my lady, shouldn't we wait until you're ready?"

“I'm already, my prince, I've been ready since the first rays of sunshine,” you knew what he was referring to and learned from the other ladies that the moisture between the thighs was a positive indication. And you've been uncomfortable wet since you woke up. "Do you want that?"

“I do,” he nodded hypnotized, holding his soft hips to squeeze the flesh gently.

It was not secret that the prince has never been with a woman before and the fact never bothered him, but he would like to have experience to properly satisfy his wife in pleasure meetings. He quickly flipped through a book on the subject as his cheeks warmed up and his limb hardened shamefully. After that he tried to remember some information to use at the moment, such as knowing that women needed time and a certain humidity so that they could feel pleasure, however, almost all reasoning was lost when your hands released his masculinity and involved him. He grunted low in response, breathing hard to prepare for the- Seven heavens!

You sank deliciously into the thick and soft shaft, ecstatic by the indiscriminate sensation of being filled. There was no way for something so good to be considered depravity, no, it was totally adequate, it was so right to jump freely on the cock of your charming Jacaerys and enjoy what he had to offer. The prince was so confused, drunk and excited by the way everything happened that he was dazzled by the beast that mounted him ardently. If in the previous times he made an effort not to end quickly, this time he was begging the seven heavens for the moment to last.

“Take off your tunic, my love, I want to see you,” you said between sighs, moving up and down constantly, moaning shamelessly.

He did what was asked, sitting in bed with you on your lap just to kiss you fervently and pull you down with him, moving your hips with yours. The gesture was much appreciated when his legs got tired of doing all the hard work, limiting himself to rubbing against his groin while he repeated the action, the constant and strong friction.

“Wait! Wait! I need some time... I-I want this to last,” he said between heavy breaths, almost begging.

"Right, right."

— "It's hard to describe, it's intense, hot and your whole body shudders at the sensation. It's probably the best thing you'll feel in your life."

Your friend Belinda's explanation of the apex of female pleasure returned to surrounding your mind again, making you yearn to discover such a sensation. It was torturous to accommodate your husband inside and not be able not to move your hips, even though it was for good reason. And he, well, he was almost exploding with pleasure.

Jace pulled you for an excited and demanding kiss, very different from the ones you used to share but just as good. Good? No, better. His tongue touched yours in a different and sloppy way, which would strumble you

The prince wasn’t blind about women but never dared to give himself to a pleasure before the wedding — he was less man for that. He thought he wouldn’t be so affected by carnal pleasure, but he could not deny that the attraction he felt for his beautiful wife increased every day and each time you lay down together. He longed for it more quietly.

“Keep going, my love,” he held your buttocks when you remained in the same position, moving your hips experimentally to keep up with your pace.

“Yes, husband,” you sighed numb, kissing him again as you moved sloppyly, dragging your hips against his groin. Gods, how good it was.

Although he was loving the position he was in, Jace felt a sudden urge to cage your body against the bed, so he turned you lovingly to take control and pushed your hips against his at a constant pace that stole the air from both of you. The thought that happened in your head was indecent, but it was the complete reality of the situation. It wasn't love made between you and your husband, no, you were fucking with all the lust there was.

He rested his face on your neck as he hit you deeply, the delicious and maddening friction building a euphoria in your unknown stomach and making your walls squeeze madly. “Jace!” You moaned loudly, scratching his back as you held him more between your legs. “Oh! Jace!” Your sight turned white and your whole body spasmed on bed, the most wonderful feeling in the world numbing your senses.

That was too much for him. Both the grip around his cock, as well as your sounds, as well as the call by his name and his own limit sent him to the apex in the blink of an eye, grunting in your ear in such a sensual and deep way that it made you squeeze even more. For the seven, what had just happened?

Such pleasure from such indecency made him hot, confused and red like wine. Your breaths were heavy and agitated, stabilizing slowly and silently on the soft bed as you sighed satisfied with what had just happened. "So that's how it feel? Now I understand why some people indulge in promiscuity," you commented in a good mood, feeling your body return to normal. "We will do this more often, yes, husband?"

Who was he to deny your request? (Especially on the content of the request).

"Of course, my lady." Yes, your husband was perfect.

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general: @valeskafics @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

jace velaryon: @howyouloveyourdragon