#I encourage taking a closer look as there are hidden details ^^ so feel free to drop any of your findings or opinions in the comments!

[prabeankai]

Our lovely group of neighbours all gathered in one place! A pleasant group photo, isn't it? ^^

Though take a closer look, maybe a smidge of a squint, and you might find that all may not be as it seems? 🤔

But I'm urged to assure you, all is just fine! Just don't look between the spirals and lines...

[wildbornsiren]

Magnetism | Robert “Bob” Floyd x F!Reader.

Magnetism part 1 of 4 What: They say if you love something, set it free. You walked away years ago and Bob let you go. But now you're back, fate dealing him a hand he never thought he'd get.  Part 1 of 4. 4,212 words. AFAB/Female civilian reader. Warnings:  Top Gun Maverick Spoilers, kind of angsty.  Thanks: @writercole for the summary, @hederasgarden @skvatnavle and @yespolkadotkitty for encouragement and eyes. Thank you so much to @therebeccaw​  for the banner. Likes are so appreciated, comments and shares are amazing. Thank you for reading. I appreciate it so much, and it means the most. 

A gentle salt breeze came from the ocean, providing slight relief from the heat of the day. The beachside café was pleasantly crowded, but the outdoor seating provided a bit of distance between the patrons. Small tables shaded by large umbrellas; soft music pumped through hidden speakers. You’re seated at one of those tables with your aunt who is happily chatting your ear off about her day. It’s comfortable, and familiar and you stretch your legs out a little bit, sighing with contentment. Your phone is next to your empty snack plate, and you glance at the screen when it lights up, not recognizing the number. You reject the call, offering an apologetic grin to your aunt at the interruption. Almost immediately the number flashes again, and you pick it up. “Hello?” “Is this Ms.—” “Yes, may I ask who’s calling?” You press the phone a little closer to your ear. “Ma’am, this is Lieutenant Marshall calling from Naval Station North Island Medical Center, to inform you that Lieutenant Robert Floyd was injured today in a training accident.”

Your heart drops, feeling your coffee threaten to come back up. “What did you say?” “Lieutenant Floyd was injured in a training accident, and you’re his emergency contact…” “North Island?” You interrupt. “Yes, ma’am.” You twist in your chair, instinctively looking in the direction of the base. “I’m sorry, I haven’t spoken with him in a little while. Is he able to receive visitors?” “Yes ma’am. I can’t give any more details over the phone.” “I understand. Thank you so much for calling me.” You hang up your phone, putting it back on the table. Your hand trembles as it covers your mouth, your other arm hugging your midsection. “What’s wrong?” Your aunt looks at you, concern wrinkling her brow. You shake your head, “Robbie’s in the hospital. He was in an accident.” It takes you three times to pick up your purse, keys clutched in your hand. “I’ll be home when I can, okay. I’m sorry.” You get to your feet, kissing your aunt on the cheek before leaving.

---------------------------

The hospital looms in front of you, your purse clutched in your hands. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and enter. You’re able to find the wing he’s in, and uniformed personnel at the nurse’s station let you know what room is his. Standing outside the closed door, you stare at it. You haven’t seen Robert in four years, and the way you had parted, didn’t exactly lend itself to a happy reunion. Desperately hoping your heartbeat slows its race in your chest, you place your hand on the handle, and step inside. There’s two other people in the room. A dark-haired woman in a hospital gown sat on one bed, a man in a folding chair between the two beds, his flight suit unzipped to the waist. In front of him, a small table, cards in his hand. Worry creased his brow, and he glanced at woman who shrugged. Your gaze landed on Robert. Robbie. He was seated in the other bed, holding two cards in his hand. You swallow, throat so incredibly dry. What strikes you is how small he looks in that bed, and the way his weight is shifted favoring his left side. There’s a brilliant bloom of green and yellow under the neckline of the hospital gown, spanning his shoulder, collar bone and up one side of his neck. “Hey,” you manage. He says your name, and your heart nearly stops. It takes a few moments for you to realize that he’s still talking. You shake your head, blinking everything back into focus. “I’m sorry?” “Why are you here?” You lick your lips, looking down at the too shiny linoleum. “One of the med staff called me to inform me that you were in an accident.” Color rises on his cheekbones and he clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, but why are you here. Shouldn’t you be in New York?” “I’m on sabbatical,” shifting your weight, “My aunt needed some help with some things, and mom couldn’t come out, and I had the leave.” You realize that you’re rambling, and all the attention is on you. “The nurse said they were just keeping you for observation, and I’m interrupting something, so I-ah, I’m going to go home.” You rub at the back of your neck. “I’m glad you’re alright Robbie.” At the nickname, he swings his legs out of the bed, getting to his feet. Carefully he lifts the iv tubing from the guard rails and holds onto the stand. “It’s time for me to take a walk, either of you need anything?” He glances at the other two who quickly pretend to be more interested in the cards in their hands. “You should get back in bed.” He's coming closer, and he shakes his head. “I’m supposed to get up and walk every hour. So is Phoenix, but she’s busy taking all of Rooster’s cash.” His hand rests lightly at your elbow walking with you down the hallway to an abandoned waiting room. He waits until you sit, and he beings walking the aisle. “What happened?” “We had a bird strike, lost one of the engines. Phoenix and I couldn’t recover, and we had to eject.” His voice is soft, so gentle, the hint of a drawl coming in softening the words even better. He sounds like home, and you miss it. “I had a bit of a rough landing, they’re worried about some bruising on my ribs, but everything came back clean.” He’s done two laps around the waiting room, and he’s leaning against his Iv pole watching you. Those bright blue eyes that saw more than he let on, a fierce intelligence shining from behind his glasses were focused on you. “I thought I had changed it. I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you worry.” “His call sign is Rooster?” You wanted to change the subject, and quickly. His words turned over in your head, and you believed that he didn’t want you to worry. He smiles then, and you know he’s going to be okay. “Yeah, but I can’t really say anything about it, especially with mine.” “What’s the latest guess for what Bob stands for?” Another smile, this time followed by a low chuckle. And that rolls right down your spine, making you shiver. “Current standing thought is baby on board.” He shrugs, “it’s fun to hear them guess. None of them have come close though.” “I’m really glad you’re okay.” You can’t look at him, and instead study the carpet, lower lip worried between your teeth. You can hear him moving, and his hospital issued yellow no-skid socks appear in your line of sight. The way he says your name reminds you of the times he’d whisper it in the dark against your ear. His fingers are so warm, so light as they tip your chin up, his brow furrowing. His thumb swipes at your cheek wiping away errant tears. “I’m okay, I never wanted to make you feel like this.” You get to your feet, wrapping your arms around him. He’s tense for a moment, before relaxing against you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. It’s comforting, familiar and you feel so damn lonely when you let him go. The sound of a man clearing his throat makes you take a few steps toward the left, putting distance between you and Robert. Rooster is watching the two of you, and he rubs the back of his neck. “The nurses sent me to come get him. Visiting hours are over.” “I’ll go back to the room; can you make sure she gets to her car?” Bob says. “It’s getting late.” “Sure thing man,” Rooster claps him on the shoulder as he passes. “Either me or Seresin will pick you and Nat up in the morning. Just let us know when you’re discharged.” You fall into step with Rooster, who had fixed his flight suit. His hands are in his pocket, and he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye. “Is he really okay, or is he just saying it so I don’t get upset.” “Physically, he’s fine. The stress may hit him later. It’s intense, but Bob’ll handle it.” He presses the button for the elevator. “Phoenix is an amazing pilot. What happened was out of either of their control. It could have happened to any of us.” He pats you on the shoulder, “He’s got you though, and we’re here for you.” The elevator doors slide closed once you’re both inside. “I haven’t seen Robert in years.” You look up at Rooster. “The last thing I said to him…” You shake your head, “I’m glad he has you guys. And a good pilot.” Rooster walks you to your car, holding onto the open car door. “What’s your number?” He’s got his phone in his hand. “I’ll send it to Bob and you two can catch up later.” “I don’t think—”

“Humor me.” You give him your number and get into the driver’s seat. He waits until you’re buckled in, “Get home safe alright? We’ll look after him.” Rooster shuts your door, knocking on the doorframe before he’s walking away. You put your car in gear, driving back to your aunt’s place. The house is dark, except for the porch light. The sound of your car door echoing in the quiet of the night. There’s a note on the fridge, letting you know that there’s leftovers. The ache in your stomach and worry for Robert makes the thought of food sounds very unappealing, so you trudge back to your room. -------------------------------- The sky is overcast, and the breeze is a little cooler off the ocean this morning. You’re curled up under a blanket on the back porch, the quiet punctuated by the groan of the porch swing as you rock gently. The Pacific Ocean is angry today, the waves crashing against the shoreline. It’s also early enough that the damp sand is free of tourists, so you’ve got an uninterrupted view of the rough waves. Your work lap top sits next to you, the screen open and bright, emails open, but you can’t bring yourself to look at them. You wrap your hands a bit tighter around your mug, the rich dark coffee slowly bringing order to your senses. You hadn’t slept well, giving up the attempts somewhere between four and five in the morning. Next to you, your phone screen lights up. “Did you get home okay last night?” You don’t recognize the number, and figure it was Rooster checking in on you on behest of Bob. “Yes, thank you. :) How’s Robert doing?” “I didn’t expect you to be awake.” You stare at that message, fingers posed over the keyboard on your phone screen. “Couldn’t sleep. Now I’m not answering emails and watching the waves. Shouldn’t you be resting?” You watch that he starts to type, a few times before the screen goes dark. “You still like cinnamon rolls, right?” In the distance you can hear a car door open and close, and you look over your shoulder at the sound of footsteps on the wooden porch behind you. Robert shifts his weight looking a little sheepish, a white bakery box in his hands—a box that smelled of warm cinnamon and sugar. “I was going to leave these on the porch for you.” His gaze meets yours, before it’s sliding to the left. “Since you’re awake, we could split one.” He's there, and he’s standing on his own. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose sweatshirt emblazoned with the navy logo, his hair tousled, sleep still evident in his eyes. You get up from the swing, putting your mug on the porch railing. Lifting the box from his hands, you set it on the bench, and wrap yourself around him in a hug. He returns the gesture, arms tight around you, one hand at the back of your neck, holding you against his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweet.” He murmurs, and it makes your heart stop momentarily. “Let me get you a cup of coffee.” You untangle yourself from him, swiping at your eyes. “Do you have time for that before you have to report?” “I’m on med detail for the next twenty-four hours.” He says lips twisting slightly. “I’m grounded and off until tomorrow.” “Stay for a bit then.” You turn to head back inside, pausing to glance over your shoulder at him before you go inside. He’s watching you, expression soft. He’s unreadable as always, it was the one thing that bothered you about him.  You pour a mug for him, filling up a thermos, and grabbing a couple of forks before heading back outside. “You remembered where my aunt lives?” He rubs the back of his neck with an easy grin. “You brought me here a couple times. You know how my brain works.” “Not entirely.” You set the tray on the small table on the deck, and hand him the coffee. He exchanges mugs with you, holding the swing still so you can sit down. He sits next to you, tucking the blanket around both of you. You hand him a fork and open the box of cinnamon rolls. “Are these from Ford’s?” “Yeah, I got there right when they opened.” He says easily. There’s a small bakery on the edge of town that made donuts and cinnamon rolls—only until they sold out. Most days there were lines around the block, and they closed within a few hours. It takes a few moments but you’re able to wrestle one out of the box and onto the plate you brought out. He takes the plate from you, holding onto it. “Go ahead.” “We’re sharing right?” He nods, “I also know what happens when someone gets between you and pastry.” The first bite is heavenly, spicy cinnamon blended with butter and rich, fluffy bread. The sugar adds intense sweetness, and it’s perfectly balanced. Eyes closed, you tip your head back, enjoying the taste. You take another bite, licking the stray bit of frosting from your knuckle. “I can’t believe you managed to get these.” “A peace offering.” Robert mutters, swallowing. He wipes the corner of his mouth, tongue meeting his thumb. “It’s good to see you, and I wanted to let you know that.” “I’m sorry Robbie,” the words slip out around a swallow of coffee. It was something that you had wanted to say to him so many times. So many abandoned text messages, so many unwritten letters. You had a stash of them under the mattress in your bedroom. There was so much that you wanted to say, so much that needed to be said—and yet all that would come out is an apology. The minutes stretch between you, and once more you wish that the ability to pluck the words from the air was reality. “Have dinner with me tonight.” He’s looking out toward the water. “No expectations, no conversation about what happened between us. Just two friends getting dinner.” “Friends?” The word pierced your chest, butterflies exploding in your stomach. He nods, the full weight of that easy, gentle smile turned on you. “Of course, we’re friends Sweet. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought you cinnamon rolls.” The second use of the nickname within the span of forty-five minutes only made the butterflies worse. “Dinner sounds good.” “Are you stationed out here?” He shakes his head, “I have orders for Lemoore, I’m Phoenix’s new back seater, and in the middle of getting those orders I got called up to Top Gun.” He sips at his coffee. “It’s a pretty intense opportunity if I’m selected.” “Is there any doubt?” He smiles again, “The others are extremely talented. It’s nice to be flying with people who challenge each other.” His arm is resting on the back of the swing, and you find yourself leaning closer. The empty plate joins the box of cinnamon rolls. “Cold?” He asks, and it’s not so much a question as it is an invitation. Heart in your throat, you close those last few inches, curling next to him, head dropping onto the crook of his arm. He adjusts the blanket, his arm dropping lightly onto your shoulder, fingers brushing your upper arm. “One of my friends, she owns a studio space,” you start talking to fill the silence. It’s too comfortable, and you can feel the oppressive weight of what you really want to say bubbling up. “She wants to host a showing for me.” You had taken up photography in high school, the hobby evolving into something more, finding you had a knack for being in the right place at the right time, and having an eye for composition. When the shift to digital happened, your pieces gained attention and your hobby turned into a full-blown business. “That’s incredible,” he says. “You should do it.” “I’m thinking about staying out here for a while though. The city, it’s a lot. I miss being able to breathe. Auntie’s got her hands full, and Jarrod’s in the wind again.” “It’s that bad that you come to California to breathe?” “If I went home, momma would get her claws in me, and I’d never see anything but small town for the rest of my life.” “Exactly why I signed up.” “Yeah, but you go home, and you’re the fighter pilot,” you hold up a finger to pause his protest, “most of them can’t tell the difference between a WSO and a pilot, all they know is the small-town boy has his butt in a jet. I go home, and I’m the weird arty kid sister of the football star who didn’t quite make it.” “I see your point.” There’s the slightest brush of his lips against your temple. “I need to get back to the barracks. I don’t have to report, but I have to check in.” “Can’t have you AWOL.” “They wouldn’t declare that, they’d send the others after me.” He pauses, another easy, genuine grin spreading across his face. “Which would be worse if I’m being honest.” Gently he untangles himself, making sure to tuck the blanket it around you. Robert places the laptop in the empty space. “Answer your emails, so you’re not distracted tonight.” His hand squeezes your shoulder, “I’ll come pick you up at six.” ---------------------

The contents of your closet are spread out on your bed, and you’re sitting on the floor starting at the colorful pile of fabric defeated. “Friends.” You mutter, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “Just two friends getting dinner.” Your phone chirps from under the pile and you shove everything out of the way. “The others just left; I’ll be there in a few.” “Crap,” You mutter getting to your feet. Grabbing blindly, you put on a dress and slip on a pair of sandals, and clatter down the stairs. Your Aunt is in her rocking chair fast asleep. Carefully, you tuck a blanket around her, leaving a note to remind her of your evening plans. The dogs were fed and settled, leaving your aunt a dinner plate in the fridge, jumping when there’s a soft knock on the door. You open the door to see Robert on the porch. “Wow.” He breathes, looking you up and down. “You look amazing.” He rubs the back of his neck before offering you his hand. “You ready?” He’s got on dark blue dress pants and a white button up, the top few buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wow yourself, Robbie.” You let him lead you down the stairs and to the car, getting in while he holds the door.

He slides into the driver’s seat and puts the car in gear. He drives like he was born behind the wheel, easy and relaxed. One hand rested on the console between you, fingers flexing occasionally. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on top of his. He moves under you, lacing your fingers together, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. The town melts away as he navigates the winding California highway running parallel to the ocean. He takes an exit, taking you through a small town. He pulls up to a small brick building with red and white striped awnings. “Seresin can’t stop talking about this place and their cannoli.” Robert says. “Considering he doesn’t shut up, the fact that this place comes up pretty often means it has to be good.” He turns the ignition off, giving you another half-smile. The walkway is cobblestone, lined with overflowing flower beds. Roses, lavender, bright white daisies, hollyhocks and other flowers, he’s got a hold of your hand, opening the door for you. Inside you’re instantly greeted by the smell of garlic and fresh bread. Italian music plays, and it’s dimly lit, candles on every table. His smile is easy and gentle, and you find yourself drawn in by conversation and good food. You’re not sure how long the two of you sit at the table that’s tucked into a quiet corner. He’s telling you stories about the other pilots up for this mission, you’re laughing so hard you’re crying at some of the antics that they get up to. The waiter comes by, apologetically cutting in, and letting you know that the restaurant would be closing. “Three cannoli and the bill please,” Robert says. “Are you going to let me pay half?” He shakes his head, “Let me. Please.” “Fine, then I’ll get the next one.” He leans across the table, a wicked glint in his eyes, “Next time then.” The waiter drops by with a small box, Robert paying the bill and leading you back to the car. The drive home seems to pass so much quicker, and with it the knowledge that the evening was ending. He pulls up to the house, sitting with you in the car for a little while, the engine off. In the pale illumination of the streetlight, his features are angular, though there’s a softness in his jaw. You’re acutely aware of his breathing, your own, the heat radiating from him, the clean fresh scent of his cologne overwhelming you. His tongue darts out against his lower lip and you shift slightly in your seat. Every part of you is screaming for you to take his hand, lead him upstairs and give in to the burning heat that’s slowly spiraling through you. “I should go in.” You whisper, throat dry. “Thank you, I had a good time.” Your hand rests on the door handle. He nods, getting out of the car and coming around to your side, following you up the walk to the front door. Robert leans against the doorframe, braced over you as you fumble with your keys and the lock. He says your name, and you turn, his other hand curving along your jaw. “Please,” your lips brush against his when you speak.   He groans, and the sound makes your toes curl. His kiss is slow, drawing you closer, tongue sliding past your lips. Your arms wrap around him, your key dropping forgotten, to the porch, pulling him flush against you. Your back hits the door, his other hand sliding to the small of your back. The door gives way under your combined weight, and you tumble through it, landing solidly on the floor, Robbie on top of you. He has enough sense to cushion your head with his hand before it hits the floor, but the commotion of you entering the house sets the dogs off. Two of them bark from the living room, while the third sees freedom and takes it, running out the door. “Robbie, get him!” He's scrambling off you, dashing after the dog. You pull yourself up, grabbing the leash, making sure to close the door behind you before you’re giving chase as well; the dog heading straight for the beach and surf. By the time you both manage to get a hold of the runaway, you’re covered in sand, soaking wet from the waves, and you’re halfway convinced that there’s seaweed stuck to your leg. Bob’s rumpled and breathless, shirt untucked his socks hanging out of his pockets, shoes abandoned somewhere on the beach, but his hand on is on the dog’s collar. You clip the leash to the dog’s collar, who promptly sits and looks up at you, tail thumping against the sand. Robert laughs, hands carding through his hair as he pushes it away from his face. His arm settles over your shoulders, pulling you against him as he walks you home. “Are you doing anything Friday?” He asks, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, watching as you wrestle the dog back inside. You shake your head, and he continues. “I think there’s a few of us that are getting drinks, would you like to join us?” “I’d like that.” “Go on inside, I’ll text you tomorrow with the plans.” He waits until the door closes behind you. You phone pings when you’re headed up the stairs to your bedroom. “Goodnight, Sweet.” ------------------------ Tagging in: @robertcallsignbobfloyd​  @a-reader-and-a-writer  @hederasgarden   @writercole  @evansrogerskitten   @arianna-bradshaw @roses-and-grasses @letsfvckingdance @green-socks @skvatnavle @a-reader-and-a-writer     @mayhem24-7forever @callsign-phoenix @yespolkadotkitty @princessmisery666 @lt-natrace

[sugarylawliet]

In Death Note, you know the part where the L placed spy cams everywhere within Yagami’s house?

What if Light and his girlfriend start doing the deeds to look like normal hormones teens?

YES OMG i’ve actually thought of this before so i’m so glad someone requested it LMFAO

> warnings: swearing, smut, degradation, sir kink, kind of exhibition??

  Light tossed his backpack onto his bed, loosening his red tie before collapsing onto the bed himself, letting his exhaustion express itself in the most natural way he thought possible. It’s hard to act natural when you’re being watched; you almost forget every aspect of your daily routine, putting excessive thought into typically mindless tasks like walking around your house or laying on your bed to the point of obviousness. 

“Light, wanna play video games?” Ryuk asked, standing before the boy.

Light fell back onto his bed, placing his hands behind his shoulders with a deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the performance he’d have to put on. How could he ignore Ryuk without giving off reactions to the shinigami’s words, tilts of the head or instinctive hums of agreement that could incriminate himself in a matter of seconds.

“You listening? Hello?” 

Light only ignored him, grabbing a long beige coat from the closet before heading outside, Ryuk following close behind.

“Hey, Light, what’s with the brushing off? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

He popped his collar and rolled up his sleeves, checking meticulously for any bits of wire or chips of plastic that could be audio bugging him. 

“Light! Hey!” Ryuk wined.

“There might be secret hidden cameras around the house,” The brunette broke the silence, his voice in a slightly raspy lowered tone, almost a whisper, “Or microphones, probably both.” He explained, going on to detail his clever methods of finding out if someone had been in his room- or if someone had opened his door, at least.

“Let’s go on a camera hunt! You got a plan after that?” Ryuk asks.

“Simple, make it seem like I have no idea the cameras are even there, and that I’m just a normal teenager. I’ll probably need some excuse for why I have that paper and lead in my door, they’ll want to know why I don’t want anyone in my room, what I’m hiding, and if the footage reveals I’m hiding absolutely nothing, that’ll look even more suspicious. Every teenager has secrets.”

“So what’ll you do?���

“You’ll see.”

                               _______________________________

“This feels objectifying, Yagami.” 

You walk down the street leading to your boyfriend’s house, accompanied by the man himself as he explains his, quite frankly, pervy plan.

“Objectifying? We have sex all the time, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but nobody plans out when they’re gonna fuck. It’s just weird.”

“Hey,” Light stops walking, facing towards you as he gently lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger. The feeling made you melt, and he knew that very well. The way Light held your face and looked at you like you were the only thing on earth felt exhilarating, he could tell you anything in that position and you’d believe it. And that’s just what he does, constantly. “This is not an option, this isn’t personal business. This is about Kira. This is going to throw suspicion off me, okay? Do it. For me.”

You sighed deeply. He had you the moment he held your chin like that. “And there won’t be any explicit footage of us? There won’t be a camera like, right there?”

“I don’t know where all the cameras are, but there aren’t many like that in my room at all, we’ll be safe.” He lied, a practice that came so easily to him he no longer viewed it as morally wrong. It was just something he did, like going to school and eating dinner or doing homework, he also lied.

“Okay.” You agreed with a smile, prompting him to release his grasp on you and continue the walk home.

“I didn’t realize he went through such great lengths...might there be something in his room that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Soichiro Yagami remarked, watching Light fiddle with the thin strip of paper in the doorway and the piece of lead in the hinges as you stood patiently behind him.

“Well, considering he’s 17, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.” L responds, “I am a bit curious, though, as to what he’s hiding so admently.”

You enter Light’s bedroom with him, shutting the door behind you as you watch him toss his bag down besides his bed. 

“Y/N, are you scared of me?” He turns to face you.

“Hm? Why would I be.”

“L, the best detective in the world, thinks I’m Kira when I’m not.”

Oh, Light.

“He makes me out to be some kind of monster,” He continues, “I’m worried you’ll start to believe him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Huh?”

Before you could register his comment, Light lunges for you, tossing you onto his bed before tickling your stomach and sides.

‘L-Light! St-stop! Please!” You cried between giggles.

“Make me.”

Understanding, you connect your lips to his, causing his hands to rub up and down where he previously tickled you. You moaned into the kiss as Light pushed harder into it, his desperation showing. You wished he would take his time, but you knew the real reason you were here. His hands slid down to your lower half, pushing his hand inside your pants and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist reflexively. He let out a chuckle. 

Impatiently, he stood up straight, unbuttoning your pants before slipping them completely off along with your panties, leaving you in only your t-shirt on his bed.

“I figured,” L sighed, “You can close your eyes if you’d like, Yagami-san, but I’m afraid I need you here for legal purposes.”

Light crouched down onto the floor, lifting your legs to lay bent on his shoulders. Teasingly, he licked a line down your slit, earning a gasp from you. He straightened himself out again, moving towards your face. “L is watching,” He whispered, his hot breath on your ear, “Put on a show.” He smirked.

Watching? Had Light lied?

Light lowered himself back down to push his tongue inside you. His tongue wriggled around, exploring your walls with lust.

“Oh, Light” You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You knew L, you knew the whole task force for that matter. Your face flushed with embarrassment imagining any of them reviewing this footage and hearing your moans. Hell, Light’s dad worked with L, he could be watching for all you knew.

You jolted at the sudden sting of Light smacking your thigh with an open palm. “Don’t hold back, angel, and don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear all your pretty moans.” He said, removing himself from your core before pressing his lips almost to your ear again, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I want L to see how good I make you feel. Got it?”

You faintly nodded before he returned to your heat, dipping his tongue inside once again while his thumb felt your clit, rubbing it in circles. You knot your fingers through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to your pussy with a moan. He sped up his actions, practically abusing your clit while his tongue hit your g-spot, curling sightly upwords inside of you.

“Fuck, Light, I can’t, I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulled away, leaving you edged and wanting more. You pouted, sticking your lip out with a whine. Light, having none of it, roughly raked his hand through your hair, forcing you up close to his face by your scalp. “You listen to me.” He growled, the heat of his breath warming your face, “No whining, and no disobeying. Got that?” He yanked your hair with the last syllable for emphasis. You let out a weak “Mhm.” 

He shoved you to the bed chest-first by your hair, never letting his fingers leave your locks. 

“Ass up.” He commanded, you obliged slowly, legs feeling a bit sore from him eating you out.

Hastily he unbuckled his belt before folding it in half, smacking your ass with it leaving a slight red mark. “When I tell you to do something, you do it quickly.”

“Yes Light.”

You yelped as he smacked you again with the belt in the same place, the stinging leaving your ass feel like it was burning. 

“Yes who?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed his khakis fully down before aligning himself with your entrance, rubbing his head up and down your slit teasingly.

“Sir please...” You begged.

“Please what? Say it.”

“Please, please fuck me sir. I want your cock, please.” 

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.” Light slid himself into you with a groan. Slowly, he rocked himself into you. 

“F-faster, please sir. Faster.” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets.

Light obliged right away, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask for it. He quicked his speed, pounding into you mercilessly. He licked his lips, relishing in the loud slew of moans and curses spilling from your mouth as he fucked you.

“Look at you, you fucking slut. Begging for me to go faster. You’re so goddamn desperate for my cock, you dirty whore.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, though degrading, the fact that Light liked you at all made you feel worth something. Light Yagami, Kira, the god of the new world, liked you. Though you’d never admit it to the stubborn boy, he could say almost anything to you, about you, and you’d still love him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He knotted his fingers back into your hair for stability as he thrusted into you even faster, burying himself deep into you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Light- sir, it’s so good.” You cried, feeling your orgasm creeping up once again. “I’m gonna...”

“Do it, come for me angel.” He encouraged, bringing his free hand up to play with your clit. The stimulation sent you over the edge. “Oh fuck, oh my god, fuck you feel so good.” You came loudly, only a little before Light did as well.

L watched Light collapsed beside you on the bed, only the sound of your breathless pants escaping the monitor. “Uh, they’re done, Yagami-san. You can...open your eyes again. Honestly, this security footage may be useless now, at the very least we cannot bring it to court, considering your son and his girlfriend are both 17. Perhaps this was his plan along.”

“You’re saying this makes you more sure he’s Kira?!” Soichiro raised his voice.

“Well, it definitely raises my suspicions.”

Light finally stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans. Before you could pull your bottoms back up, he picked up your panties from the floor, playfully spinning them around his index finger. “You won’t be missing these, will you?” He asks sarcastically, tossing them into the drawer in his bedside table. 

“Ah, so that’s what he’s hiding. A valid excuse to not want family in your room but... unexpected, to say the least.” L remarked, still somehow watching the cameras.

[xreaderbooks]

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707​ ,@theworthlessqueen​ ,@ciciakai​ ,@rockinginneverland​

[watchmegetobsessed]

Good morning - Harry Styles

a/n: oh wow look at me, double posting, can’t stop won’t stop. anyway, here is this lil birthday smut i wrote today, totally not while working, that would be unacceptable *cough cough*.... whatevs, enjoy and let me know what you though!

warning: it’s a smut, straight up, morning blowie for the bday boy

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

The warm morning Sun peeks through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the half open curtains giving the rays a free pass into the hazy bedroom that’s filled with warmth, sleep and little snores coming from one particular birthday boy who is turning twenty-seven today.

Harry lies on his back, one hand on his bare chest, the other one sprawled out to the side, his lower arm hidden under the pillow your head is resting on. Your legs are tangled with his long ones, one hand on his stomach, the other one tugged under your head.

You wake slowly, with each drawn breath, gradually sensing your surroundings. The rays of sunshine on your back where the sheets are not covering you, Harry’s soft puffs and snores you’ve grown to adore so much, it’s now hard to sleep without them. The touch of his soft skin under your balm and his hairy legs tangled with yours, locking them together, anchoring you to him even in his sleep.

Blinking a few times you get used to the brightness as your eyes fall on the man beside you, sleeping so peacefully. You give yourself a few minutes to adore the line of his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the curves of his lips and his chiseled jawline that’s just screaming to be touched.

You sigh, feeling so lucky and gifted to have him as the first thing to see in the mornings, his presence makes sure your day starts perfectly.

Harry hums in his sleep, his arm that’s under your pillow curls until he is scooping you closer to his side and you gladly move to lie against him, running your hand up on his chest you trace the cross pendant that lies between his chest muscles.

“Mmm,” he hums again at your touch and for a moment you think he is awake, but when you look up at his pretty face, his eyes are still wired shut, lips slightly parted. You smile at how easily he reacts to your touch even when he is asleep.

With your wandering eyes, you take in every tiny detail of his perfect body, every piece of art that’s tattooed into his skin forever, every curve, muscle and blemish, you just can’t get enough of him. And today, you are ready to cherish him more than usual. Today is his day, it’s all about your love for him and to show how happy you are that he chose to spend another year of his life with you. You still remember his last birthday at the beginning of your relationship. You were still testing the waters with each other, not entirely cozied up to each other just yet, you just knew you wanted to be together.

Now a year later, you can’t be more sure about wanting to spend the rest of your life with him, share everything with him and love him every day that you have on this planet.

Your hand slowly makes its way down his chest, gently caressing his tummy, grazing your nails softly on the lines of his fern tattoos until your fingertips reach the elastic band of his boxers. Glancing up you see that he is still sleeping and a devilish smile tugs on your lips, knowing how you want to wake your man up on his birthday.

As your palm slides further down his body, you cup his cock through the fabric of his boxers, rubbing him gently and sensually to wake his nerves up down there. His reaction is almost instant. When you slip your hand under the band he is already half hard, ready for whatever you have in your mind. You give him a few gentle strokes just to make sure his body knows your intentions before you pull your hand back. You push yourself up from your lying position and throw a leg over his waist, getting on top of him and leaning forward you put your hands to his stomach for support, your lips meeting his perfectly cut jawline as you start peppering his warm skin with chaste kisses everywhere you go. You watch his face and see that his eyelids start to move, finally opening when you’re kissing along his collarbone, down his chest.

“Mornin’,” you smile at him as his hands instantly come up to your waist. To add to the experience, you gently rock your hips, rubbing yourself against him, feeling his growing bulge push against your core.

“Oh my, good mornin’ to you as well, my love,” he smirks, closing back his eyes, lying underneath you, letting you do anything you want with him.

Your lips travel down his chest, across his tummy and you kiss every leaf of his fern tattoos before you move to the very bottom of his stomach.

“Have you slept well, birthday boy?” you ask with a coy smile when his eyes open again, fixed on you as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“Yeah. But waking up has been especially good,” he chuckles, his morning voice doing things to you without him even touching you.

“Thought you’d like your first birthday surprise as early as possible,” you grin and tug down his boxers. He buckles his hips up a bit so you can easily get rid of the clothing item, throwing it to the side.

“So thoughtful of yo—Ah!” he moans when you place a soft kiss to his pink head, hands sliding down his erected length before you grip the base and bring it up from his stomach. He is so hard and ready just for you, it waters your mouth.

“You think you’ll like my gift?” you tease him, gently pumping him, taking your time with every movement you make.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” he breathes out, his eyelids are still heave from his sleep, but he can’t take his eyes off of you as you settle between his legs.

“I hope so,” you smirk before licking up his whole length, a whimper erupting from his pink lips. Keeping one hand on his base you bring your other one to play with his balls, knowing well it always drives him crazy. Your lips are not even on him, yet he is already moaning your name. He brings his hands to you, collecting your hair in his palm so he can see your face perfectly.

You wet your lips, give his head another sloppy kiss before you wrap your lips around him and start pushing your head down on his cock, his dick filling up your mouth just right as he cries your name out at the sensation.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes out, one hand holding your hair, the other one gripping the sheets beside him.

You start bobbing your head, going up and down his erection, taking him in as much as you can every time you go down, covering the rest with your hand, gently pumping his base. He is so big, your eyes start to water when his head pushes against the back of your throat and you thank all higher forces you’re not one to gag easily.

“Y/N, fuck! You’re killing me,” he growls, unable to hold still, his hips start to meet with your head movements, pushing himself even deeper into your warm mouth. You come up for air, moving your hand up and down his length as you make eye-contact with him. His green eyes are filled with bliss and adoration, he always looks at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. You take a few breaths before going down again, determined to take his whole length into your mouth at least once. So you shut your eyes and try to focus as you push your head down, his cock sliding into your mouth again, but this time you go deep. He fills your mouth completely, the head already down your throat as your nose meets his pubic bone and you keep him there for a second before coming up.

“Oh fuck! You take me so well, baby. You’re fucking amazing,” he whimpers, unable to contain himself. His chest is heaving, his whole body buzzes with his excitement so you decide to go deep again.

You take another deep breath and push your head down, nose pressing against his pelvis once, twice and even a third time before you detach yourself from him.

“Holy shit I’m gonna have a fucking heart attack,” he breathes out and you can’t push your smile down as you go back to bobbing your head like in the beginning, picking your pace up a little as you know he is close to his orgasm.

“Yes, fuck! Just like that, baby. You are doing so good,” he encourages, moaning your name as you keep sucking him off, one hand pumping on his base, the other one massaging his balls to throw him over the edge completely. “I’m gonna c-cum, fuck! You feel amazing!”

You make sure to suck on him harder when your lips slide up on his length, giving him some extra sensation before his cock twitches in your hold and he cums into your mouth, his pleasure spurting into the back of your throat.

“Baby, oh my God! I love you so fucking much,” he whimpers, his words coming out all rushed and melted together.

You let go of him with a popping sound, swallowing without a second thought as you give him a few more pumps, making sure he has ridden his orgasm out fully.

“Holy fuck!” he pants, rubbing his face with his hands, clearly awake now. You lick him off, making sure he is as clean as he can be before you climb up him, cuddling to his side with a proud smirk on your face.

“So, did you like your surprise?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“You kidding me? I fucking loved it. You and your wonderful mouth, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles softly, pressing his lips against you, kissing you as a thank you.

“Happy birthday, H,” you smile against his lips, pecking them a few more times before pulling back.

“Twenty-seven feels fucking fantastic so far,” he sighs, holding you tight to his side as you giggle into his shoulder.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Inhale pt. 2

Summary: She never ceases to surprise you.

Warning: Smoking, Cursing, One Suggestive Joke

Word Count: 1,998

Part 1

* * * * * *

The white paint stares back at you as you lay on your bed. Your view of the ceiling is obscured by the red ball you toss up into the air. It gets slightly smaller as it moves away from you, then larger as it falls back down. 

Your hand catches it and throws it back up into the air, repeating the same process as the tv plays on monotonously from the corner of the room.

Boredom has been washed over you for the past few days. Your girlfriends went on a mission last week. You were able to pass the time during the first week, keeping yourself distracted by hanging around the team, training with Steve, going for a run every time your fingers twitched towards the cigarettes you had hidden in your closet. All of that was failing to work right now.

It seems, though, that you don’t have to suffer through it much longer. F.R.I.D.A.Y chimes up after hours of quiet with an alert that Natasha and Wanda were back and heading to the room. 

You instantly perk up, pushing yourself to a sitting position on the bed and glancing at the door frequently, ready for your girls to walk in. Except they don’t.

The gleeful, happy to be home, response you were expecting is replaced by their clearly upset demeanors. A frown sits on Wanda’s face like you’ve never seen and Natasha’s expression remains neutral. 

They don’t acknowledge you save for a glance in your direction. Both of them go into the closet and quickly change into more comfortable clothes. In an instant afterwards they’re leaving out. And you’re left beyond confused.

With the possible reasons for their behavior and clear attitudes in your head, you don’t take offense to it. You give them some time to cool off, going back to tossing your ball in the air and catching it as you watch tv. 

Around an hour or two later you decide they’re fine now, or at least fine enough to talk to. So you get up, heading first to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water and then to the general training room. 

The sound of familiar huffs and the pounding of fists against a leather bag let’s you know your assumption was right. Your redheaded love is off to the fair side of the gym, headphones in her ears as she beats on the punching bag. 

You smirk at the sight of her. Not only do her yoga pants and sports bra look great on her, you always find her focused and slightly aggressive expression kind of hot. She glances at you as you approach and you know she can hear you despite her headphones.

Stopping behind the bag, you lean on it, showing off your smirk to the woman.“ If you really want to work off your frustrations I can think of a good way to do so.” Natasha grunts, rolling her eyes and focusing on punching the bag. 

With a sigh, you move to her side, gently taking her taped up hands and moving in front of her. Forest green eyes look into yours and you give her your best encouraging smile. She knows what your silent question is and sighs.

“The mission went south. We suffered a civilian casualty and others got hurt.” Her expression and tone remain neutral but obviously she’s upset about this. It isn’t her first time dealing with this kind of thing from a mission but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate every bit of it. 

“I’m sorry to hear that baby.” You raise your hands to her arms and gently rub them, squeezing a little in between.

Natasha’s heart warms at your soft comforts.“ I’ll be okay. Wan is more torn up than I am. She-” The woman shakes her head,“ she blames herself.” 

You frown, prepared to ask for more details. Then you figure you can ask the girlfriend who’s more deeply affected by it. 

“I’ll go talk to her.” Natasha nods at your words.“ You gonna be okay?” A teasing smile forms on your lips.“ I know you’re my super tough ex-assassin but I’m here if you want to talk.”

Her lips tug up in the corner at your teasing words, but it quickly becomes a sincere smile when you offer your ear. Slowly reaching up, she runs the pad of her thumb along the apple of your cheek.“ I’m okay detka. I’ll let you know if I need to talk. Or your other services.” 

You chuckle softly and nod. Leaning forward, you press a soft, quick kiss to her lips and part, heading off to find your other girlfriend. The not so tough witchy one you love just as much. 

Finding the woman proved to be a little harder than you thought it would be. She wasn’t in any of the places you thought she would be in: the library, the theater, the common room. You wrack your brain for ideas as to where she is and when the last place pops into mind, you can’t believe you hadn’t thought of it first.

It’s a quick jog to the elevator and an even shorter ride up to the top floor. From there you take the stairs up to the roof. 

She’d stolen this spot from you a few months after you started dating. She and Natasha found you up there smoking once and through the year and a half she would find you up here, sometimes sneaking a smoke when you shouldn’t be. 

Her long brown tresses fall down her back freely, the rest of her beauty hidden as she faces away from you. Though you still find her insanely cute that she’s in your hoodie and some stretch pants. 

The long slow straightening of her form clues you in on her deep breath, her body relaxing as she lets it go. You only get a little confused when she pauses and does it again. A thought that you’re unsure of, but the physical cues make you curious. The familiar movement of her arm, the deep breath, the pause. 

“Wan?” You call with an indescribable look on your face. 

Your brunette girlfriend’s shoulders drop and she turns to you. Immediately your eyes focus on the small cylinder in between her fingers, watching as it rises and rests between her lips. 

She takes a quick pull, pauses, let’s a little smoke go, then it all comes out in a straight shot that disperses in the air. It’s such a smooth combination of actions that leaves you wondering if she’d done this before. 

Deciding to hold your comment on that until after she’s completely calm, you take a different route. Approaching her still pacing form, you cross your arms and ask,“ was it that bad?” 

A snort leaves her lips and she takes another drag.“ Worse.” 

“Tell me.” Your hand reaches for her free one and you pull her towards you as you sit on the ledge of the roof. 

Her hand squeezes yours. Your eyes drop from her green ones to her lips as they wrap around the cylinder again, cheeks caving a little, then her lips puckering slightly as she pushes the smoke out. 

“I heard Natasha get hurt,” she starts, fingers once again tightening around yours,“ I looked away for a split second and he got away. We caught him but not until after he shot the tires out on a car. It flipped and crashed into another one.” Her jaw clenches, eyes glossing with tears.“ He hurt a man and his son and- and killed a woman.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you stand, pulling her a little closer to your form. You’d been down this road a number of times. Being on the Avengers team since the beginning almost, you know exactly what it’s like to make a mistake and have others pay for it. It was a deep hole that never ceased to make you hate yourself. But you didn’t want Wanda feeling that way. 

“Hey,” you reach a hand up to cup her cheek, looking into her eyes,“ I know that it hurts. And it’s easy to blame yourself. But it’s not your fault. He made the choices that resulted in that woman losing her life, not you.” 

“But I’m supposed to be the hero. I’m supposed to save people. And I didn’t.” Her accent thickens as she gets choked up, eyes glossing over.

You sigh, taking the cigarette from her hand and putting it out on the ledge, then pull her into your arms. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands slip up to your shoulder blades.“ You are a hero. A great hero. However, you’re not a perfect one. None of us are. It sucks in situations like this but you can’t save everyone no matter how much we want to. It doesn’t make you a bad person or any less of a hero.”

From the flicker of emotions in her eyes, you can tell it’s still going to take some time for her to cope with this. Still though you see a glimpse of that soft look and you can also see that she believes you to a certain extent.

Raising your hand, you gently push the corner of her lips up. She whines and turns her head away, noncommittally pushing at your side. It makes you laugh and she presses her forehead against your chest.

“Wanna tell me where you got that cigarette from?” You ask. 

She pulls away, producing a pack of cigarettes. Brows furrowing, you flip the top up and count the cigarettes inside. There were four missing.

“Did you smoke four whole cigarettes before I got up here?” An incredulous tone laces your words, disbelief flooding your system. 

Has your habit rubbed off on her? You know she and Nat found it attractive but did that lead Wanda to try it? It’s a terribly unhealthy habit, which is why your girlfriends wanted you to stop, and you certainly didn’t want Wanda getting into it.

“No, I didn’t smoke four. I got these from your boot in the closet,” she tells you.“ Which means you smoked them.”

“I-” you try to think of what to say.“ That was over the course of a few weeks. I haven’t had one in months though.” You know you didn’t need to give her an explanation but you wanted her to know you were still doing well. 

Wanda and Natasha were very well aware of your progression towards quitting. They could even tell the difference in your behavior. Both women were incredibly proud and admittedly you were proud of yourself as well. You had confidence you would be able to completely quit in the fairly near future. 

The younger woman smiles softly at you,“ I know you haven’t. And you don’t have to worry about me starting. It’s actually very nasty and I didn’t feel it did anything for my stress.” 

“Good. I don’t want you forming an addiction and I don’t want to die if Nat found out you’d started by smoking my cigarettes.” 

“She knows now.” 

Nearly jumping a foot in the air, you turn around to see your other girlfriend smirking a little at you. A nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you scratch the back of your neck. 

Rolling her eyes, Natasha steps to the side to stand beside you and Wanda. Her hand slipping into yours, the other held up towards Wanda. 

Wanda sighs and places the pack of cigarettes in Natasha’s hand. The redhead pockets them then takes the younger woman’s hand.“ Neither of you smoke again.” She states plainly. 

Looking at Wanda, you both nod.“ Never again Miss Romanoff.” You and Wanda say simultaneously, bright smiles shown to Natasha.

It’d be harder than that for you but not impossible. Especially not with the support and encouragement of the two women you loved and needed the most.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows​ @natasha-danvers​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @yumusak-yastik​ @b-5by5​ @fayhar​ @lostandsearching​ @iliketozoneout​ @ecruzsalaz

[mooniefics]

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

[justasimptm]

The Bride C10

I hear my sisters screaming from the kitchens, promptly followed by loud crashing and the shouts of various other servants. Now this typically wouldn’t be alarming, until however, I hear them calling out to me. They would never do that unless something was direly wrong, they’re too proud, so the echoes of my name through the halls sets a pit into my stomach that has me swarming downstairs so I can get there as soon as absolutely possible. They have two maids cornered against the pantry, both have tears streaming down their faces, quaking with such force I’m convinced they’re going to fall.

“What’s going on?” I demand, skimming over the bunch to see if there’s any visual clues. Both servants have spots of blood adorning their aprons, not too unusual. What is out of place, however, is the pained look on Bela’s face as she holds a hand to her side. Daniela speaks without turning away from her targets.

“Three of our ungrateful maids thought it would be beneficial to their lives to attack us and escape.” She hisses, brandishing her blade at them hazardously. Three catches my attention, recounting I see the problem. “As you can see, sister, one of them managed it. She stuck Bela in the side and took off out the door. You need to go get her and bring her back before she gets to town or does anything stupid.” My eyes widen as I whip my head towards the cracked door, peering out past it to catch a glimpse of a figure fleeing off down the hill. I curse loudly, before taking off after her. She’s definitely faster than I originally anticipated, having made it a good portion of the way to town before I catch up with her. My fingers latch on the collar of her dress, yanking her backwards and off balance just enough to make her stumble, not quite enough for her to fall. The moment she regains her balance she twirls on me, looking like a cornered animal, I’m half convinced she’s going to start hissing at me. I recognize her in a heartbeat, it’s Claire, and my split second of hesitation is all she needs, thrusting her hand forward at me, sinking a knife she had so carefully hidden deep into my abdomen.

I gasp sharply at the sudden intrusion, both out of surprise and pain. Pain? Lots of pain-oh shit a LOT of pain. She tears her hand back, pulling the knife free, which both makes the sharp stinging better and worse. I catch a glimpse of the blade and I immediately know why it feels like she shoved a hot poker into my side. The knife she’s holding is one of the three all silver blades my mother kept as decor, given to her by my father when she agreed to marry him. Silver, ironically, one of the few things that will cause me immediate damage. It sticks to me like an infection, which is kind of funny, and if it isn’t treated it spreads like poison. It gets into my blood, like it reignites my disease, the veins from the wounds turning black as it spreads. The only reason my pendant hasn’t done that yet is Mother Miranda did some cracked shit to it when I first changed making it so it wouldn’t spread, which is honestly very fortunate given the fact it nearly melted into my chest from during my transition.

Her mouth drops open, like she wasn't expecting that to work and she lets go of the handle, letting it clatter to the ground. The blade is coated in my blood, shining black in the sun. Shakily I bring one of my hands up to the wound, my fingers barely graze it but the reaction is immediate and jarring. A scream tears from my throat, the girl jumps and starts running again. Another wave of pain shoots through my stomach making me whimper, it feels like she poured alcohol straight into it. I stumble forward a step, trying to will myself into motion.

I still have to stop her, get to her before she reaches town, but my foot catches on air and I fall forward. I barely manage to catch myself before I slam down face first. The impact itself is startling, but it does jolt my brain enough to shake me from my stupor. I know I’ll be fine, if I catch her in time I’ll end up killing her, she’s dead if I bring her back home anyway, but this way at least she can fix what she did to me. That’s probably the only bonus about who my mother employs. Only females, and all ‘pure’. Maiden’s blood is not only the best blood for us to make us stronger, but the only thing that really can heal this kind of damage in us. If I can just get to her, I’ll be fine. Getting to her, however, seems to be where the difficulties lie, as she seems very determined to make it as far from me as possible, and given the sheer amount of pain that rips up my nerves anytime I do so much as breathe, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it.

I have to try. After all I’ve lived through, I refuse to die here on the side of the road, there by the fault of my sisters. With all the power I have left in my body I force myself to swarm, as it’s far easier to move at that point. Still, she moves faster, unwounded and already with a head start. Fate, however, seems to be on my side, despite everything that’s happened up until that point, because in moments she’s essentially swarmed by Lycans. None attacking her, just forming a wall of bodys so she can’t go any further. I make it a few feet from them before I’m forced to reform, dropping to the ground immediately and crying out on impact. Through the sound of the blood rushing through my head, the snarling of the Lycans, and the frightened whimpers of the likely soon to be dead maid, I can hear someone shout my name.

There’s a lot of distress in the tone, and for a second it sounds like it’s coming from everywhere, until I feel hands pulling at my arms, tugging me to turn over and sit up. Through  the black dots that are dancing across my vision, I can make out the vague details of my new company.

“Y/N? Y/N what’s wrong!” He growls, his yanking makes me groan, down a ways from us the sounds of crying and snarling grows louder, nearly drowning out his voice. He’s quick to snap at them, telling them all to shut up before fixing his eyes back to me.

“Heisenberg?” I choke out, blinking up in surprise. What’s he doing out here? He laughs slightly, shaking his head. He pulls off his dark glasses, revealing his brilliant amber eyes to me for the second time since we met.

“Darlin’ you look like you’re dying, I think you can call me Karl.” He says airly, clearly trying to keep the situation calm despite the amount of panic lacing his voice. “What did she do to you?” He stresses, glaring up at Claire for a moment before skimming up and down, locking onto where my hands are grasping. When he catches sight of the black blood staining through my fingers a deep dangerous sound claws its way up out of his lungs. He turns as if he’s going to start at her, but my fingers catch on the hem of his jacket before he can fully get away.

“Need-need blood-” I choke, looking at him for a moment before fixing my eyes on her, hoping he’ll understand the message I’m conveying, and judging by the dark look that storms over his face, he does.

*Heisenberg’s POV*

I’d first like to start this out by saying, no, I’m not stalking her. But after the terror in her voice when she begged me to leave, I had a feeling something was wrong, so yeah, I decided to keep a closer eye on her just in case. Doing so I had to make sure Lady Douche wouldn’t catch on, so I kept my distance, mostly having one of my Lycans hover around the property, and alert me when she left or if there was commotion. Imagine my surprise when after weeks of quiet, the idiotic creature sends out the danger sign. After so much calm, and immediate red signal sent me into high gear, with no idea what to expect I ordered a group of my higher functioning creations to run out ahead of me as I followed along, having them track her down and stand guard just in case. So when she finally appeared in view, a stunning cluster of brilliantly colored black and yellow moths, streaming after a human, the confusion laced in me was understandable. Until I saw her rapidly gain back her mass and drop to the ground like a stone.

Something was very wrong. I shouted her name and she barely responded, only focusing hazily when I grab her around her middle and hoist her up and over so she’s facing up. Her eyes are unfocused and I honestly can’t tell if she can recognize me. Her face is scary pale, drips of perspiration dotting her forehead and along the bridge of her nose. I want to laugh in relief when she finally responds, her voice crackling and light, the reply enough to encourage me she’s going to be okay. Until my eyes settle on her side, where her hands are clenched so tight I bet she’d have marks left on her palms from where her nails were digging in. Between her finger tips and soaking into her dress, I see the familiar and tell tale spread of black. She’s bleeding.

How the hell is she bleeding? Obnoxious whimpers remind me we aren’t alone, and my head whips to the side, fixing my gaze firmly on the girl surrounded by my creations. Did she do this? I’m going to tear her to shreds-at least that’s what I plan, before the light pressure on my jacket halts my steps.

She croaks out she needs blood before looking past me at the snivelling mess. If she needs blood to heal, I’ll get her all the blood she needs. Starting with the blood of the stupid bitch who hurt her, and anyone else it’ll take to make her better.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Mind Games (Alec Volturi x Reader)

Everyone had warned you about the twins, the 'witch twins'. They were described as pure evil incarnate yet when you met them, their sadistic side was apparent, even their standoffish nature but nothing came across as pure evil. You were warned that they looked innocent but it was an act. Everyone you had ever known told you to stay away from them, no matter what they say or do. 

You tried to remember the advice, keeping it in the back of your mind as the two introduced themselves to you and even grew to befriend you. Still the advice rang in your head but you couldn't help but feel sorry for them. That perhaps they were a little misunderstood or just wanted someone. You couldn't explain how Alec drew you in. If anything he seemed to influence your friendship with Jane. Everyone had told you to stay away yet the twins were encouraging. They didn't recoil when you told them your gift as many did. 

You were honest, your gift made you do terrible things. It wasn't exactly enamoring. Perhaps that made you drawn to them more, outcasts meeting outcasts. They seemed to enjoy your ability and more specifically, the dark things you had done with it during your past. You weren’t proud of those times and they didn't lecture you or encourage you to do worse. Instead they accepted it, they had done some pretty wicked things and anyone who didn't was associated with someone who had. Seemingly that's just how it is in the vampire world. 

Somehow, the friendship naturally progressed to Alec wanted to stay behind to spend more time with you. It was always talking in the most secluded areas where no one would find you. The forest, against a particular large tree, moss acting as a seat. In fields and meadows where you both would be hidden sitting among the grass. The two of you would just roam, finding the perfect spot to sit and enjoy the moment. Neither of you brought up the progression of the friendship. It came natural when you both began to sit that little more closer than before. Lingering touches, like Alec running his finger along the side of your jaw absentmindedly. It was easy to be around Alec. You didn't always have to talk, explain yourself. He already knew. The atmosphere was intense but never uncomfortable. The world continued on but you and Alec were stuck in your own bubble. 

You turned your head and suddenly jerked back with yelp. Alec turned his own head quickly to you. "What did you do? I looked away for two seconds!" "That bit of grass went up my nose." You heaved, covering your face. "Wait... seriously?" Alec's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah. I literally moved into it." You replied, still cradling your nose. "Are you being dramatic? Surely you-" You cut Alec off. "No, trust me. It went straight up there. It went so far up my nose that I think it could reach some distant childhood memories." Alec couldn't help but laugh. "You're an idiot! Are you okay?" "Yeah, think so." You nodded, grabbing the specific blade of grass, tearing it from the roots and tossing it behind you. "Now I've had vengeance." Alec shook his head with an amused smile. "I can't believe you did that. Pay attention to your surroundings! What had you so distracted?" 

That was a tricky question, because you had been thinking about him at the time. However you couldn't tell him that. "I don't know." You shrugged, looking down at the ground. "That's a lie." Alec pointed out. You knew you couldn't lie to Alec, but it had been worth the try. "If I tell you, you can't freak out." You began. "That's concerning. Should I be worried?" Alec asked. "No, it's not bad but it's a secret. If I tell you, you can't freak out." Alec nodded in response. You stared at him momentarily, clearly very nervous. Quickly, you leaned in, meetings Alec's lips with your own. He stayed very still and you decided it was best if you pulled back. Although when you did, Alec immediately chased after your lips, this time kissing you. His hand moving to pull your face closer to him. 

That kiss remained a secret, although a happy one. Never to be mentioned around anyone else. Everyone told you to stay away from the twins, that they were dangerous. You probably should have listened. 

When another two men who were introduced as Felix and Demetri, met you in the place you were to meet the twins along with them, you knew something wasn't right. You grew nervous with the feeling as though you had just stepped into a trap. You took a step back, your unease written all over your face. "Calm down." Alec said as the two twins stepped closer. "We're friends, aren't we?" "Friends?" You repeated. "Yes." Alec smiled slightly. "Well, you and I may be a little closer than that." With a small smirk, Alec ran his fingers along his bottom lip. "We're friends." Jane continued. "We'd like to take you to meet more friends." Alec continued. Jane stopped but Alec took a larger step forward, his dark most surrounding you in seconds. You slumped forward, into Alec's shoulder. He hummed in amusement. "Well that was a little too easy for my liking." Felix chuckled. You had begun to slide of Alec's shoulder but before you could hit the ground Felix scooped you up. 

Your eyes snapped open, Alec's mist retracting. You sat up with a startled gasp. You looked around to see a room that was made of stone and marble. Before you sat three vampires. "Ah, young (Y/N), you're awake!" You quickly moved to your feet and in seconds you had the twins to your right, Demetri and Felix stood to your left. All four had their eyes latched on you for any sudden movements. The man in the middle descended the stairs to his throne with a gleam in his eyes. "Our sincerest apologies for not making your acquaintance sooner. I'm afraid we had other matters to attend to. Although I hear nothing but good things about you. Our dear Alec, told us so much about you." He stepped closer. "My name is Aro, behind me are my brothers, Marcus and Caius." Aro gestured to each as though this was a friendly introduction. You, however, were still in the mindset that you had been brought here against your will. That, you wouldn't forget so easily. 

Aro's hand locked onto yours. He hummed quietly in amusement. “There's so much in your mind. It branches out into others. I don't know where to begin. You see, my dear, your mind doesn't seem to work like others. People minds are so easy to read, their thoughts just come to me but for you, cara mia, it appears I must decide where to look." Your head snapped up. "Get out of my head!" You screamed. Your fingers wiggled free of Aro's. Your own fingers covering his in a tight grip that was painful. Suddenly Aro couldn't see in your head anymore. Aro gasped, a sharp pain coursing through his head. His own mind flashing before his eyes and that was when he had realised this was you. Almost like a filing cabinet, every thought he had ever had, every memory, you rifled through them all quickly. Each tiny detail became agonizing. Aro began to cry out in pain."Get out!" You didn't, only continuing to poke through his brain. He finally tore his hand free from your grasp, staggering back. Aro couldn't help but look at your hand. Your fingers wiggled slightly, resembling the motion he could imagine someone's fingers would make hunting through a filing cabinet. You glared at him. "Dungeons." Aro seethed. "Take them to the dungeons!" 

"Demetri..." Your voice echoed in his mind. "You track the mind. Cling to tenors of people, I see...so many people." Demetri clenched his jaw, slowing to a stop. "Get out of my head." "No." You said simply. Demetri silently cursed himself. He knew he shouldn't have touched you. Yet he did so without thinking and now you had tapped into his head. "That's so bizarre...it's like intangible ropes, pulling you towards everyone." "You're a parasite! Get out of my head!" Demetri seethed. You seemed to laugh at this. "You did it to yourself. You can't blame me for what goes on in your head. At the end of the day...I'm in the dungeons." Your voice lowered, becoming more forceful. "You put me here." 

Suddenly the corridor before him shifted. He couldn't explain it but before his eyes was a seemingly endless hallway with doors, that branched out into more corridors with doors. A maze that was on going. Mazes were never an issue for Demetri, he just had to follow the scent of who he was hunting and he'd find his way out on his own. However this seemed to not be the case this time. Demetri noticed that every direction, the pull of his gift sent him. He couldn't latch onto one particular person and the scents were so tangled that it seemed as though everyone was everywhere all at the same time, leaving no room untouched. Demetri then knew that you were messing with his head, his gift, just as you had done so to Aro. "A parasite, you say..." You mused. "...have you ever looked in the mirror and hated what looked back at you?" Demetri wasn't going to give you the pleasure of an answer, however you continued without skipping a beat. "I think I'm more of a reflection. Or more specifically, a reflection of your gift. I'm reflecting your gift that you press onto others, back onto you and now your poor little brain is all confused." Demetri could hear the pout in your voice and it only aggravated him more. 

Five hours had passed, you'd gone quiet quite some time ago. Almost immediately after mocking him. However, things were not back to normal. In fact, for the past five hours he's been roaming the halls. Doors led to more corridors and even more doors. There was no pattern, just a constant loop that even going backwards didn't seem to have any use. Since then, Demetri had lost all sense of direction and had no idea where he had started. Although to his surprise, when turning another corner, the scene had finally changed. He looked back seeing the same normal corridor he had looked at for all these hours but turning that corner lay ahead a different corridor and the very one he had been heading for. Whatever influence you had over his head, it was gone. 

Jane's visit was surprising and very rushed. She held up a bag of blood. Who really knew where she got that from but blood bags weren't as appetizing as from the vein. You were willing to bet she hadn't even heated it up. "Here. For you. I'm afraid I can only give you one, but it'll be enough to keep the thirst at bay." She put her hand through the bars, holding out the bag. You stared at her. "Hurry up or I'll drop it." Jane said coldly. This is probably the most loving you had ever seen her and is probably the best she's capable of being nice. You moved forward and took it from her. "Thanks and thanks for adding some attitude with it. It's great to see you too." Jane rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to sit and watch you complain." "Apparently you're not going to be my friend either." You shot back. "You're being ridiculous. I'm busy, I have a job to do. I can't coddle you until you come around. I am your friend and so take that as some friendly advice." "Coddle!?" You snapped incredulously. "You kidnapped me! Where was the coddling you speak of exactly!?" "Yes, we did. However this isn't a bad place to be and you aren't being tortured." Jane responded simply. "You can't be serious." You said in awe. "Jane, if I took you to the Cullen's against your will and told you that you should be happy because it isn't a bad place to be, would you be happy!?" "I don't have time for this." Jane insisted. "I could have just left you down here to starve but I didn't. I took time out of my day to make sure you're a little more comfortable. If you don't believe we're friends then that isn't my problem. That's yours. I've been nothing but honest the whole time." "Wow. Thank you so much Jane for putting me in this situation and keeping me comfortable." You responded with sarcasm. "Keep talking to me like that and i'll-" Jane began but you interrupted. "Or what? You'll put me in the dungeon? Oh wait." Your eyes narrowed on her with a cold gaze.  "Are you sure you want to test me, (Y/N)?" Jane asked. "Are you?" You responded. Jane didn't answer in words but the agony you quickly felt responded for her. Although you were just as quick to remember how to make the pain stop. You grabbed her arm before falling to the ground. She tore her arm away with a growl but the damage was already done. You looked into her eyes and suddenly you didn't feel the pain anymore, Jane on the other hand, let out a very loud scream, immediately collapsing to the ground. Somehow, she couldn't stop the pain, even when she immediately halted inflicting her gift. Yet the pain kept going. With bars separating you both, it was then you who stood over her. "Does that hurt?" You asked lightly as she continued to scream. "I hope that hurts." You said, eyes boring into Jane. "A lot." You added. 

Suddenly Alec came rushing down the stairs along with Felix, Demetri and Santiago. You released Jane and Alec wasted no time upon arrival rushing to his sister's side. You smiled at the guards before turning away to lie down on the stone bench. As soon as Alec was certain his twin was right he shot you a glare. "You know, you're glaring at me like this is my fault. Like I wasn't the one taken here against my will and threatened with torture." You turned your head, eyes meeting Alec's. "And you want me to believe I was ever your friend?" "We are your friends but we also have orders and our limits." "Only with everyone else, Alec. Neither of you were ever taught when to stop." Your smile vanishing. "You got your sister, now go away."

Aro, Caius and Marcus approached your cell quietly and you smiled sweetly. "Demetri said you'd be back. You did." Your smile vanished. "Good." You said with a lower tone of voice. "We've been trying to understand your gift. It's been quite a conundrum." Aro began. "Oh really?" You responded blankly. "Do you know what it is?" Caius asked. "No, but it's very good for self defense." You said flatly. "We have concluded that you mimic gifts after physical contact with them." Aro continued. "Therefore, you aren't a mind reader, you copied my gifts and used them against me." A flash of anger crossed Aro's face before returning to a stoic demeanor. "You should never look into someone's mind without permission." You agreed. "It's fascinating though isn't it?" "What is?" Aro responded. "People are like doors to us. One touch and we're in. Yours is very nice. It's consistent. You know what to expect. For me, I could be given anything. Vampires with abilities are much more interesting. Those without, it's just pure mind control. I confuse them all the time, they never know what they're actually seeing.", You cracked a smile. "I made one jump off a cliff for no reason. Although, Carlisle was helping me to be a better person. Anyway, that is irrelevant. The point is, you've gotten very comfortable opening doors. Now you're discovering that some doors should never be opened." You stared at Aro. "You should have never looked into my head because now I've looked in yours." You watched as Aro stiffened again, his eyes piercing through you with a deadly look. You stared back into his eyes. "It kills you to think of how much I discovered in the seconds I was in your head. Doesn't it?" Aro didn't respond and you continued. "You even know that if you tried to find out, I'd be back in your head again and I would only do the same as before." "Alec tells us that you've never been so hostile during his time with you." Aro says, moving the conversation before you could say anymore. "That happens when your kidnapped by someone who you thought was a friend. I'm more than aware this was the plan all along." "You could make this easier if you'd join us. You'd be very happy here." Aro responded.  "Easier for you." You corrected. "No thanks." "Then you'll remain here until you change your mind and you will, my dear. You will change your mind." You cracked an amused smile. "We'll see." 

To your surprise, Alec visited you alone. You remained silent. "You know I don't like you being down here." Alec admitted. "You're the one who put me here." You responded. "Felix and Demetri did actually." Alec shot back and you cracked an amused smile. "Whatever." "Would you forgive me?" Alec asked, joking long gone. "If I said I was sorry for our intentions, for ensuring you ended up here. Would you forgive me?" "That depends on what happens next." You responded quietly. "Forever is an awfully long time to be held captive." 

In seconds Alec curled his fingers around the bars, leaning in close. "Just... come up to the bars." Alec said. Slowly you sat in front of the bars, leaning forward slightly. "You shouldn't have brought me here." You told him simply. "My ability is addictive, you know that. I'll hurt people." "That doesn't change my mind about you. Just...don't do that to my sister again. You know-" "She started it." You interrupted. "I know...and I spoke to her." Alec responded. "I told her I didn't appreciate it. She didn't like it herself because she really had began to consider you a friend.We all have bad habits. You're just as quick to use your gift as Jane is to use her own." "You know if you let me out...if you were my friend, you would." Alec smiled sadly, raising a hand to your cheek. "I can't. Perhaps in a perfect world I could, but I'm not perfect, no one is and this world will never be perfect." You looked down in disappointment but didn't move away from his hand. He looked at you momentarily before using the grip he had on the side your face and pulling you towards the bars. He met your lips between the spaces of the bars with his own. In that moment, he had proven what his words could not. He knew the power he had given you with even the lightest of touches yet had given it anyway. A sign of complete trust. Alec broke the kiss. "I want you to stay. Just...think about that." He moved away, letting go. He sent you one last look before heading back upstairs, leaving you alone in the dungeons once more. 

 It wasn't often Alec spent some time alone. There was something about the leave and quiet, the silence enveloped him and put him at ease. He didn't think it would have been possible for someone with super hearing to ever have such a thing as silence. Yet everyone seemed to learn how to be silent, unnoticed. Every movement is graceful and quiet. Knowing you were several floors below him was comforting. In his eyes, the closer you were, the safer you were. Although he couldn't completely enjoy it. You didn't want to be there. Alec wasn't stupid, he knew you didn't just mean the dungeons and he wasn't going to pretend. You didn't want to be there, in the castle. It took you time to ever feel safe in an area. Volterra was so new that it was no surprise that you wanted to flee. Although Alec still hoped you'd stay. If you wanted to stay with him, it would make everything better. Aro wanted you and he'd never let you go. You were clever enough to figure that out. Although you were too stubborn to accept it. Alec lay back on his bed. He rarely used it much like the rest of the vampires in the castle. Although they could appreciate a soft place to land so they were always given if requested. Alec closed his eyes with a deep, unnecessary exhale. When his eyes opened, they widened. You loomed over Alec, smiling, like a predator that had caught it's prey. "Aren't you happy to see me?" "You're not supposed to be here. How did you-?" Alec moved to sit up but realised very quickly that he couldn't move and it wasn't your weight holding him down. He looked over at his hands as best as he could, they didn't even twitch. He looked back up at you startled. "Not a nice feeling is it? To not be able to move but, it could be worse. That's only one of your senses. You take away all five. However, you'll need the other ones. Well, maybe not your sense of smell." You asked. Alec's eyes as suddenly that was gone too. "You did this to me to bring me here and countless others. Are you scared? Like I was to wake up in an unknown place?" Your hands cradled Alec's head. "For what it's worth..." You softly pressed your lips to his in a brief, sweet kiss. You straightened up again. "Although that isn't what I intend to do. I want you to feel the fear I did, that I do." 

Suddenly a match was in your hand. Within a second it was lit. Alec's eyes widened even more in terror. His only fear, fire. You moved it towards his face. "Stop!" He said quickly. You only smiled, moving off of him to lay over him. Your back on his chest, legs in-between his and your head resting next to his on his pillow. You hushed him softly. "It's okay. This isn't real, remember?" Alec swallowed hard, doing his best to remember that. However it didn't make it any easier. "I'd never burn you. However this is the one thing that scares you." You began. "If you hurt me, I'll hurt you. You know that's how it works and these friends of yours have only hurt me. Including you and Jane." Your fingers suddenly curled around the open flame. "Don't!" Alec said quickly, waiting for a cry of pain or the smell of burning flesh- despite having no sense of smell. Although the cry never came. You squeezed your fist tightly around the match, as though suffocating it. When you loosened your hold, revealing the match. It was no longer lit and of any use. "I don't want to hurt you." Alec ground out. "So don't make me. Pull stunts like this and I'll have no choice." You moved off of him, instead rolling into his side. You moved his face to the side, making him look at you. "You said I wasn't evil, yet this place...you make me do evil things. I can do good with this power." Your face changed to one of sadness, looking into Alec's eyes. "I could have loved you once." You said quietly.  Without thinking Alec moved his hand to your face. You gasped and Alec seemed just as surprised since he couldn't feel anything else. Yet he had moved his hands. Before anything could be said, a weight was lifted from him, he could feel and smell everything and you were no longer in the room. 

 You looked down at your hands. Your time with Alec priced that you could use his gift against him. As long as you didn't let anyone else touch you, you could bide your time and escape. However when that time came, your plan didn't work out too well. 

It took three days but you decided that Felix -alone- was the best opportunity you'd get. Alec's gift worked momentarily but you had to touch Felix work it to work and the more contact meant the more Alec's gift trickled away from your control. Felix was frozen in place for only moments before Alec's gift faded away entirely. Like clockwork, Felix lunged. You knew you couldn't let him get his hands around your neck. If he did, it was over. You didn't know if Felix was gifted either, it had never been mentioned before but you knew this man was stronger than other vampires...including you. You caught Felix's arms, doing your best to push against him. Slowly he began overpowering you. Suddenly it stopped. It became apparent you seemed to find strength within yourself, a strength you didn't know you had. That was when you realised, whilst push back against Felix, the strength wasn't yours at all. It was his. Although it wouldn't be enough to push back. You couldn't let Felix catch on your realisation before it was too late. So with a spur of the moment decision that could have been very very stupid, you twisted his arms. 

You heard sickening cracks, Felix's arms twisting to the elbow in a very unnatural angle and became useless. You quickly tripped him to the ground. "So sorry about this. I just need some more time.” You slammed his head against the stone ground. Cracks forming along his face, neck and no doubt the back of his head- the impact point. You hurried up the stairs to be met with Afton, another guard you had met during your time here. You yelped in panic as you grabbed his hands instinctively and throwing him down the stairs of the dungeons. Before you took off running you heard his landing before Afton let out a startled. "Felix!?" You wanted to kick yourself. You hadn't intended on grabbing Afton's hands which meant Felix's strength was gone. As far as you knew, Afton didn't have a gift or anything that could help you. You had to create as much distance as you could with the dungeons and you had no doubt the Volturi was well aware of your escape by now. You weren't exactly quiet in your execution of the plan. 

You found yourself in a large hall of sorts, following the scent of fresh air but it was certainly a process given all the rooms. Within seconds you were grabbed, turned to face the one responsible before tackled to the ground. You realised it was Alec who had a tight grip on your arms. "Stop fighting us!" Alec hissed. "Y'know, what I was called a while ago?" You grinned, struggling against him. "A parasite. Although as far as I see it, nothing I do can get rid of you so who's the parasite now!" You growled as you tried to break Alec's grip that locked you in place but to no avail. "Stop it!" Alec responded. "No!" You snapped back. "You were always going to bring me here. Everyone was right about you. You lied to me. You pretended to be my friend. Hell, you even let me kiss you! I bet you enjoyed how much your little game worked didn't you!?" "Stop talking! You don't know anything! Yes I was sent to find out about you and eventually bring you back but I actually did grow attached." You struggled even more but Alec's grip only got tighter. "Damn it, (Y/N), stop fighting me!" Alec threw you to the ground before pinning you down. You screamed in frustration. Alec had much more experience in combat than you did and you despised how easy you had made it for him. You yelped as you felt his mist creep across your body. "No!" You screamed almost in panic. The last time this happened, you woke up in Italy, where all this began. Alec shushed you as your body went limp. Much like you had done to Alec before, he made sure you couldn't move but could talk, see, hear and smell. You were trapped in your own body. Fear rushed through you. 

Alec loomed over you. "Listen to me, (Y/N)." He said firmly to you. "You think I lied to you about how I feel but I didn't. You think I want to hurt you but I don't and you want to hate me but you don't. You know I will always protect you if you would just stop fighting. I need you to stop. I need you here with me." Suddenly the smallest whine escaped him with a word you never thought he'd say. "Please...please." You were quiet for a moment. "Maybe, if things were different it would be easier to say 'i love you', don't you think?" You asked. "You can't keep me." You whispered. Alec slowly shook his head. Denial. "You can't." You continued firmly. "I can't be a part of Aro's collection and you can't use my feelings to keep me here. I don't want to be a weapon. I want to be me. Don't you understand? My power can make me a terrible person and it's up to me to save you from that person." Alec slowly shook his head. "I won't let you." He said quietly. "I know." You whispered back. "I still have to try." Your brow furrowed as though lifting something heavy. A small whimper escaped you and Alec realised what you had done when the same numb feeling he had felt before and given to many others, travelled up his legs and into every bit of his body. In seconds, he couldn't move, whilst you gained feeling back. You rolled him off you gently. "Don't leave me." He mumbled out as best as he could. You said nothing. Instead moving to stand up before you began to walk away. "(Y/N), don't leave me!" 

 You hurried to maintain some distance again, not knowing how long Alec would stay like that whilst you weren't around. You panicked when you entered another room that was massive. A hallway that had large stone stairs that seemed lead to upstairs on either direction like a 'T'. "No..." You couldn't help but utter. This couldn't be the right way. However, you froze when you heard someone behind you. You turned and much to your horror, it wasn't one person but two. 

"We really should have kept Eleazar around. Perhaps then we could have found you years ago." Caius walked towards you, his eyes trained on you. Marcus looked behind him, his eyes also trained on you. "(Y/N)? That's your name isn't it?" Caius asked. You moved up a stair. "You really do have the wrong impression of us, truly. You see, we protect our kind from the human world. We must in these times. Humans have the technology to hurt us after all. We make sure there is justice and protection for our kind. That's all." Caius finished, just below the stairs. Never did he tear his gaze from you. 

Slowly he began to ascend the stairs, all the while you moved up more stairs to keep the separation. "Gifts like yours are very difficult to hide from us, rumours run like wildfires in our kind. Yet here you are. Only now in our sights. Tell us, little one. Where have you been hiding?" After a pause and your silence, Caius continued to ascend the stairs and you did the same. "We can make you an offer, one that is unheard of for our coven to give." "Lucky me." You mumbled, trying to keep as much distance as possible. Your comment, surprisingly, went ignored. "The Volturi do not give second chances but you, for your cooperation, we could make an exception. You'd have to keep that a secret. We cannot give such chances to just anyone." As he got closer, Caius put out his hands where you could see them but he could also use that same stance to attack you. It wasn't comforting. "We could help you with that gift. Help you with our way of life. You could live long and well. Our food comes to us, you wouldn't have to hunt." 

Marcus was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs and he then spoke up. "My gift senses relationships. I can see your relationship to Alec...and Jane. You don't have anyone else. You keep everyone out, but you want a family. You want people to depend on. We can be your family, we can be the ones you depend on." "You must be desperate to keep me here, to do this yourselves." You said, finally at the top of the stairs. "It'd be unfortunate to have to kill you." Caius responded. "You know my answer." You responded flatly. Caius' eyes narrowed on you, with a slight scowl. "Pity." Just before you could your hands around Caius' neck. He grabbed your arms and threw you down the steps. 

You looked up at him as he descended down the stairs, not even in a hurry. You turned quickly, noticing Marcus was only feet away. You hissed, no longer noticing your now dislocated shoulder that had broken your fall at an odd angle. Caius wrapped his hands around your neck, his knee pressing down painfully on your diaphragm. "Oh my, little one. It seems you only picked up my temper this time. Don't you know that I don't have a gift? Just thousand of years of experience." He smirked down at you as you heard more footsteps approaching. "I've got them." Caius said to whoever had entered. You couldn't move to see who it was. "Wonderful! Well done!" Aro's cheery voice rang out. That was one set of footsteps accounted for. "Let us fix that arm." Marcus bent down to your side and you tried to flail away from him but Caius grip only got tighter. 

Marcus took your arm, surprisingly gently before forcefully tugging your arm back. You tried to pull away from him again but couldn't move under Caius' weight. Once again Marcus tugged forcefully downwards on your arm and with a second popping sound, your arm was back in place.  "There, that must feel better." You could practically hear Aro's smile. Caius hauled you up. His grip on you still tight. It was Aro, Felix, Demetri, the twins and Chelsea. "Alec?" Aro turned to him with a nod. 

In seconds Alec was in front of you and Caius' grip had loosened. Alec pulled you into an embrace, much to your surprise and didn't let go. He continued to hold you to him as with another nod, Chelsea was beside you. She leaned in and began to whisper in your ear. You seemed to catch on what was happening as you gasped and tried to pull away from Alec. However he was stronger, holding you to him very much like he would a hug. Maybe it was. You didn't know. You felt yourself begin to relax into him as Chelsea continued to whisper. You squeezed your eyes shut, a small whimper escaped you as you realised you were losing. They were winning. 

She reassured you, making everything seem okay. Reminding you of your bond with Alec, telling you about how they could help you and would love to consider you one of their coven. You could feel your bonds being tampered with, solidifying bonds that hadn't even existed before. Suddenly you felt no bad feelings for the three leaders. Most of all, you wanted, no, needed to stay with Alec. Forever. 

In that moment, you knew you had lost. She pulled back. Nodding to Aro before stepping away. Alec leaned back to look at you, his eyes sad yet relieved. As though he was finally sure you were safe. He kissed your lips, then the corner of your mouth and then your cheek before moving back into the original embrace.

[hlizr50]

These Scars Paint the Map that Led Me to You

Azriel and Gwyn both have scars, and both are determined to show the other that those scars are just as beautiful as the rest of them.

Read on AO3

Part 1: Azriel

“You’re brooding, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel could feel the Valkyrie’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up.

“I don’t brood, Berdara.” He kept his gaze firmly on the report in front of him, eyes narrowed. He didn’t understand how there could be so little intelligence. He had personally surveyed every location and made sure that every spy was in the most prime of positions to overhear and intercept information. It had been a time-consuming, harrowing endeavor, and it had taken him too far from home for far too long. It was the first long mission he’d undertaken since he had started spending considerably more time with the copper-haired priestess lounging in the settee across the room – since they had started sharing more than banter and nights running away from nightmares – and every minute away had put him more and more on edge.

Gwyn snorted.

“I love when you lie to yourself.” He heard the dampened clap as she snapped her book closed, but he still refused to meet her gaze. The shadowsinger could feel the intensity of those teal eyes boring into his profile, and he wasn’t prepared to compound his frustration with the questions he would find there – questions that would turn into an ocean of concern. He leaned back into his chair, tilting his head further and sighing in exasperation. His breathing was deep, measured, as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The rustle of fabric was the only indication that Gwyn had moved, but he remained focused on his breathing and the bitter burn of failure in his chest. Where was Koschei? Why couldn’t he find anything at all?

“Azriel.”

Her voice was quiet, the softest of melodies that always seemed to help silence the infernal voices that threatened to tear him apart. He opened his eyes when he felt her hands on his shoulders, graceful fingers feeling for the knots of tension and seeking to soothe them from where she stood nestled neatly between his wings. Azriel grinned half-heartedly, eyes roaming from the silken locks that nearly brushed his forehead to the constellations of freckles that painted her cheeks, to the deep sea of her stare that had darkened with concern, to full pink lips that were pursed. “What terrible lies are you telling yourself this time, Shadowsinger? Tell me, so that I might prove you wrong.” The small smile he had tried to use on her faltered, so he just sighed and reached up to gently wrap his fingers around her forearms.

It never ceased to take him by surprise how thoroughly she understood him. Gwyneth Berdara so easily saw past his practiced mask of indifference and coldness. It had alarmed him at first, but he had found a surprising comfort in her companionship. She had always made it known that she could see right through him, but she would never pry, never push him to share things with her that he wasn’t ready to admit.

He kept his hands on her arms, closing his eyes as he brushed his fingers up and down the soft velvet sleeves the color of the forest at midnight. He loved when she didn’t wear her robes, instead opting for casual gowns (a taste she had likely inherited from Nesta) or the practical tunic and leggings, which were much easier to fight in should the need arise. Gwyn looked beautiful no matter what clothing covered her tall, lean frame, but he could not deny how those dresses made him burn for her.

“Lies, priestess?” He murmured, trying to soothe her worry and direct the conversation away from his internal self-loathing.

“Oh yes, Shadowsinger. You tell many lies.” He felt the brush of lips on his forehead and the subsequent heat that crept up his neck. “But like I said, I love when you do.” And he let his eyes drift open again. She stared back down at him, a wry smile accompanying eyes dancing with stars.

“I’m afraid I’ll need you to elaborate.” His hands had stopped their exploration of her arms and had come to rest back where they had started. He drummed his fingers for emphasis, waiting for her explanation.

“You of all people should know, Azriel, how I strive to prove you wrong,” she snickered. “But in this, especially. I have well-crafted arguments against some of my favorite lies of yours.” Azriel quirked an eyebrow in question and he could have melted at the softness he found looking back at him. Gwyn pulled away from his grasp and circled around to his side, only to reach for a scarred hand again. She tugged at him, willing the Illyrian to abandon his reports. “Come sit with me for a moment.”

He put on a show of being asked to step away from his work even though he knew that he could not refuse her. She knew it, too, but she was still gentle with him and gave him an encouraging smile and a quiet request.

“Please, Az.”

He wound his fingers between hers and moved first, pulling her toward the couch she had been sitting on moments before. The pale blue upholstery was faded, the buttons rubbed bald where they tufted the cushions. Nesta had insisted that the well-worn fabric only served to prove how impossibly comfortable the settee was, and therefore replacing it was out of the question. He sat down without letting go of the pale hand that glowed like moonlight in his tanned grasp, wings draped over the corner where the back and armrest met. He pulled the redhead down between his legs, drawing her sideways into his chest. His free hand found her hip and immediately started massaging easy circles with his mangled fingers. She drew their connected hands up between her chest and his.

“These are my favorite lies that you tell.” Gwyn’s voice was so gentle that he couldn’t even muster the tension he usually felt when he knew someone had noticed the mottled whorls of skin that covered his fingers, hands, and wrists. He had never felt the need to hide them from her – yet another surprise. The list was becoming quite extensive.

“What… what do you mean?” Azriel croaked, unsure of what to expect. From Gwyn, he supposed, he should not have any expectations. They would be shattered by her wit and candor.

“You tell yourself that your hands are disgusting. That they have done terrible things and they make you undeserving of compassion and love. A bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one.” He tensed, hand pausing on her hip. He studied her face, mostly hidden by a curtain of fiery chestnut, but found her attention centered on his hand in hers. She used a finger to trace the scars over his knuckles, taking her time to follow each line until it reached the next, an intricate map of flesh. Azriel’s skin pebbled, a tremor rumbling through him at the attention, the awe and adoration in her touch.

“Gwyn…” He breathed, but he couldn’t form the words. The priestess dipped her chin and pressed her lips to each of his long fingers, then to each of his knuckles, then to the scars on the back of his hand. Keeping one hand wound tightly with his she reached her other hand to cup his cheek, finally lifting her lashes to peer up at him. His chest swelled as she smiled widely, eyes glittering with challenge.

“Are you ready for my well-crafted arguments?”

The shadowsinger chuckled, keenly aware of her body against his. He squeezed lightly over her hip and answered, “I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“You are correct.” She tapped the tip of his nose before returning her hand to his cheek and then tracing those cool alabaster fingers down to rest on his neck. She let her thumb stroke idly over his jaw. He felt like he could barely breathe under the gaze that she had fixed on him. Her teal eyes were bright with sincerity and compassion, but her smile was sad. He knew why – he had always been consumed with hatred for himself and the things he had done, and she hated that he felt that way.

“I don’t think I will ever be able to think about what was done to you without being absolutely torn apart, Azriel. It was cruel and it was wrong. You were a child. It breaks my heart. It was a disgusting act, but these hands are the furthest thing from disgusting.” She squeezed the hand she held at her chest and Azriel wrapped his other hand further around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to him. She had never moved her eyes from his, and he found it difficult not to cower. But she gave him strength – she had emboldened him for awhile now – and so he held her gaze, mesmerized by her words. “These hands are beautiful. And perfect. And strong. They wield weapons and magic that make the whole of Prythian stand back in awe –“

“They have killed people,” he found himself arguing, an automatic response. Her fingers left his neck and pressed against his mouth, and he finally broke the eye contact she had so fervently held to look down shamefully.

“They have killed people. For your family, for your court. For me. You were there on the worst night of my life, Azriel. You may or may not know the details, but you know what happened to me. And yet here I am in your embrace, even when I can barely venture into the life and light of the city below without collapsing into a puddle of tears and panic. Because these hands… I know it’s you that holds me. I know that your hands are the ones touching me. The comfort that I feel, being able to know that it’s you, cannot be overstated.” Her voice was quiet, but fervent. Azriel could barely fathom her admission. He knew that she would feel remorse for the cruelty that he had endured, but this was so much more than that. “These hands belong to a male that I have never feared, even when I watched you slaughter men, cloaked in shadow. These hands are my safety and my sanctuary. They deserve compassion and understanding and adoration – you deserve those things. It hurts that you think otherwise, but I strive to prove you wrong, as always.”

The shadowsinger kept his priestess pressed against him at her waist and carefully pulled his other hand out of hers to cradle her face. He leaned his forehead against hers and let his ragged breathing betray his vulnerability. She was too good, too pure and perfect. But she was here in his arms, just like she had said. He lifted his gaze and found those teal depths for just a moment before slanting his mouth over hers, reveling in the softness of her. He had always been a man of few words, and while Gwyn had cracked him open wider than anyone in his family had ever seen before he still sometimes struggled to form the words he needed to show her just how incredible she was. He didn’t push to deepen the kiss, but after a moment gently pulled away. The lovely face he found nearly sent him over the edge with want – lips swollen slightly, wide glittering eyes, pink-painted cheeks. He was too overwhelmed with emotion to speak yet, so he buried his face into the crook of her neck, clutching her close with both arms. Her arms were trapped between them, but she had managed to slide her hands around his neck. Azriel felt her fingers gently teasing the hair at his nape as he breathed her in, the scent of water lilies and goodness permeating into his soul.

“Gwyn…” He shuddered against her. “Thank you.”

They remained wrapped in each other, for minutes or hours Azriel couldn’t comprehend. But he knew it, in that moment. It had been so easy to fall for her because this was who she was. She had chosen to be kind when the world had not been kind to her. She had chosen to fight back after she had been made helpless. She had chosen to show him light when she had been thrust into darkness. She saw him and did not cower. She challenged him and accepted his challenge in return. She had put her trust in him, and he could not imagine a greater gift.

So he held her against him and breathed her in, relishing in her heat and her light and her trust. And for the first time in his five centuries of life he thanked the Cauldron for the scars that marred his hands, the paths she had traced on the map of his skin – a map that had led his heart to her.

@trashforazriel @tealnymph-writes

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

House Party

Summary: You were invited to a party, little did you know, your best friend would be there too Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader Squares:  Smut for Make Me Feel Bingo // Sat on their lap instead of the chair for SPN Fluff // Jensen Ackles for Winchester & Beyond Bingo // Stolen Kisses for Any Fandom Fluff // Slow Burn for Tell Me A Story Bingo // Friends with Benefits for SPN Mixed Bingo Warnings: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Friends to Lovers, Smutish, cockwarming, alcohol, party, dirty talk, teasing, no panties, jealousy (mention)  Word Count: 1466 A/N:  This is my first attempt to actually write some graphic smut, so please be nice. In here you will also find some bolded prompts for the 7k follower celebration of @negans-lucille-tblr’s  This fic is unbeta’d so any mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc) are mine.

^

It was Tuesday night when your calendar app notified you that you had your best friend Muni’s house party on Saturday. You texted her and agreed to meet on Thursday to buy clothes for the party.  You bought a two-part dress that you certainly were going to wear almost no underwear because it was really tight. You felt insecure by wearing something that tight but you couldn’t deny you looked amazing. 

When you arrived at Muni’s house, there were many people, and it was just less than an hour since it started. You saw some mutual friends, some men were drooling while staring at you. You were aware of that, but they didn’t care you could see them. In a way it made you feel uncomfortable. You were checking your phone every now and then like you were expecting a call or something.

You were about to flirt with a guy when you saw someone’s back. You could recognize that back everywhere. It was Jensen Ackles, he made it to the party. The last time you saw him, you were drunk and having sex. Amazing sex if you could brag out, the best you’ve ever had. You were staring at him when he turned around and saw you, he had a small smile, but then he saw what you were wearing and his eyes filled with lust. Yes, you were some feet away from him, and still, you were able to feel his intense gaze, he was undressing you with his eyes and you were ruining your panties to just thinking of him. You smirked at him, smiled like you were the only ones in the room, and went to find Muni. You were with Muni dancing and talking with some of her friends when you felt a presence behind you. You knew it was him, that unique scent he has, the perfume he wears, that undeniable presence you could identify without thinking.  Your body reacted at him, not the way you were expecting but you pressed and grind your butt against him.

-Hey sweetheart — he said to your ear, pulling a hand around your waist and getting you closer to him Your whole body shivered at hearing him in such a low tone. You kept grinding your ass against him. You turned around and gave him a quick peck on the lips and then you left. Jensen was perplexed and you were red in embarrassment. Thank god for the alcohol you were drinking, sober you’ve never acted this way.

Jensen was one of your best friends and you were madly in love with him. You thought he was not interested in you, at least not like you wanted, you had sex with him in the past, but never flirted back the way it did today. He was different, he encouraged you to keep moving your ass against his crotch, he never stopped you. And when you kissed him, he never backed away. Your panties were ruined by now, you could feel how wet they were. You were ruined.

-Have you seen how Jensen looks at you? — Muni asked you Jensen appeared in front of you, stole a kiss and he continued his way. You were frozen, you weren’t expecting it at all -Oh my god — Muni exclaimed — What the hell just happened? She was surprised, she had never seen Jensen acting that way with anyone, not even with you.  -He is so into you. Buying that dress was the best decision you could ever make. -I still hate it. It’s too tight — you complained -Well, Jensen loves it. He can’t take his eyes off you. Clearly, he wants you in his pants -Half the men in here want the same thing. Besides, he just sees me as his friend, nothing more -Babe, the way he is looking at you, and behaving around you, doesn’t show him as just a friend. He is interested in you -He is just teasing. He would never be interested in me — you admitted sadly -Let’s wait until the party ends, and then you tell me. You’ll thank me later — he said and left you alone Wherever you were going, you could feel Jensen’s intense glare following you. Maybe Muni was right and he was interested in you, or maybe just wants sex. It wouldn’t be the first time, sex without feelings. 

You needed to go to the bathroom and he was just in the way. Two can play the game. You approached him and gave him a long kiss. He grabbed you from your waist deepening it. You broke the kiss and before he could say something you kept walking. You’ve just ruined a friendship. This was the end. Once in the bathroom, you checked your panties, as you expected, they were a mess. It was getting uncomfortable to have them wet, so you took them off and threw them on the laundry basket that Muni has there hidden. No one would know you are not wearing panties, the bottom of your dress is too tight. You felt uncomfortable at first, but you tried to not think about it.

When you got back to the party, Jensen was out of sight. You felt bad, it was your fault, you made him feel uncomfortable and he left. You went to the kitchen to grab another beer when you spotted him sitting alone with his phone in one of the corners. You grabbed two beers and went where he was seated -Nobody puts baby on the corner — you said while sitting on his lap instead of a chair He smiled and grabbed one of the beers opening up and handing it to you, grabbing the other for him. You accommodate yourself in his lap, making sure to press your ass against his semi-hard cock. Jensen could feel you and with his free hand, he grabbed you from your waist putting the hand over your thigh.  Just feeling his cock through the fabric and his hand on your thigh, you were getting even wetter. Jensen squeezed your thigh and kissed you on your neck -Don’t you get tired of teasing? Wearing that tight little dress giving nothing left for the imagination? -Mhm… Jay — you moaned moving your ass He moved the hand that was on his thigh higher to the hem of your skirt. You opened your legs. You seated sideways on his lap, putting one arm around his neck and the other near his crotch -Mmm sweetheart, you feel what you do to me? You make me get jealous of everyone wanting to devour you. -But I want you, not them— you said moving your hand to his crotch Jensen moved his hand higher and looked at you with lustful eyes. He smirked at you when he realized you were wearing nothing -What a naughty girl, no wearing any panties — he moved his hand inside your skirt -I bet you are really wet You moved your hand to his zipper  -Please, Jens — you moaned Jensen was hard, his cocked throbbed when you grabbed from under his underwear. You could feel the tip getting wet with precum. Jensen opened your legs a little more and moved a finger along your folds -Mmm baby, you’re so wet You opened his jeans and took his cock out. You got up and Jensen with wide eyes open realized what were you going to do -Are you getting my cock warmed? — He said helping you to sit on his cock -Mhm… Jens — you moaned while kissing him

You’ve had sex with him before, but today he was a lot bigger than you expected. Probably it was the position you were both seated, he filled you up and reached places no one has ever touched. He held you in place and started to kiss you. You could feel his cock getting harder inside you. You tried to circle your hips while making out with him, you needed the friction, but Jensen held you in place. -Jens… — You broke the kiss -What is it, baby? -I don’t know how long I will resist without moving -Me neither, sweetheart. I want you so bad -I want you too — You gave him another kiss — Let’s go to the guest room, I’m staying there tonight -Tomorrow I’ll take you on a date. That’s a promise

When you moved from his lap, you felt empty. He was quick to fix his pants and then you grabbed his hand, ready to be fucked out by your best friend. Muni saw that you were taking him to your room and smirked. A minute later you got a text “I told you. Please be quiet. I want all the details.”

Tag List (Is Open - ask to be added)

@girl-next-door-writes | @spnfluffbingo | @winchesterandbeyondbingo | @anyfandomfluffbingo | @supernatural-jackles | @spnmixedbingo | @thevelvetseries | @caplanreads | @akshi8278 | 

[leagueoflegendsimagines]

May I politely request some Lillia cute and NSFW? If not, then perhaps Ori or maybe Ahri

Since I'm in the mood for writing and I have some free time tonight, I'll get this request and maybe write one more - or just continue with the Blood Moon Jhin AU or something else I have catching dust around.

Hope you'll enjoy this, dear anon! I know it's taken a long time but maybe it will be worth the wait.

Note: This will take place in the Spirit Blossom universe. I'll also write Ahri, Yone and Yasuo in the Spirit Blossom!

SFW:

- As a priestess of the Spirit Blossom festival, you knew many things - things hidden from the eyes of the common folk.

- The path of the spirits was a dangerous one, full of hardships but deeply rewarding. You felt that aspect very deeply with each passing year. Every festival was marked by a moment that should be forbidden to any mortal - a chance to slip into the world of spirits, unseen and unknown.

- It wasn't out of your own choice, of course. There were many dangers hidden in the shadows of this world, a dreamy realm that left you yearning for more. It was almost an addiction, a pull that had always proved itself difficult to fight against.

- As one of the youngest priestesses, still new to the craft, you were sent into the spirit realm to reinforce the barriers separating the two worlds. Difficult work that attracted the attention of unwanted beings - but something that had to be done.

- Like the previous two years, you stepped into the spirit realm with trembling hands and a startled heart. Your right hand gripping the lantern tightly, your left hand holding the basket, filled with calming incense and ancient scrolls. Some would call it witchcraft. In some ways, it was.

- You would always wear a purple kimono and a detailed, horned mask to blend in with the spirits and to remain hidden to the demons lurking in the shadows. It made you look ethereal, just like one of the spirits you'd hear stories about as a child.

- Under any circumstance, you'd feel pleased by it. But now... Now it only made you uncomfortable. You considered it bad luck - looking and acting like a spirit. You were alive, after all. Living flesh. A beating heart. Running blood.

- The demons' favorite prey.

- And you'd do anything it takes to avoid becoming their prey.

- You steadied your trembling fingers, your wildly beating heart while you studied your surroundings. They were different from the last time you've seen this place.

- They were always different. The place was alive. Always changing. Completely unpredictable and thus dangerous. Your fingers tightening around the wooden curve of the lantern, you took a few cautious steps into the gloomy forest. A purple haze was floating around, making your mind feel hazy and slow.

- You were aware of the effects this place could have on the human mind. It still didn't prepare you one bit for the whole ordeal.

- With a deep inhale, you started walking. Small steps - one at a time. You could do it. You could reach the main shrine and enforce the barriers in less than an hour - you'd be back in your world before midnight, if everything went well.

- You met Lilia for the first time on the way to the altar.

- A scared, lonely being. She took a huge fright when she saw you - when she saw your mask - and you spent the next 20 minutes trying to convince her that you weren't, in fact, a demon.

- In the end, your fumbling fingers reached behind your head to take off the mask - an incredibly dangerous thing to do, of course, but you tended to be a bit more reckless than a priestess should probably be.

- As soon as your face came into view, Lilia froze. It's been so long since she has seen any humans here, so deep into the spirit realm. No soul ever ventured this far - either guided by the spirit fox or chained to the demon. You were...

- You were so beautiful to her. Wide eyes, fearful yet stubborn. Your hair was simply made, traditional flowers blooming from between the strands in a casual, almost natural manner - as if they belonged there. A straight posture, an elegant yet strong body covered in the sensual and luxurious silk that could only exist in the spirit realm.

- You were absolutely stunning to Lilia. And for a few long moments, she stuttered a question while cowering close to a nearby tree.

- "A-are you a human or o-one of them?" She needed to be sure. She couldn't trust you, not yet. What if you were a demon with a human face? What if you were one of the spirits, just trying to hurt her for your own amusement?

- You frowned for a short second before you gave her your answer: Human.

- And Lilia knew you were telling the truth. She could sense lies easily, her heightened senses capable of picking up every tremor in your voice, every skip of your heartbeat.

- You covered your face again before she could say anything else. There was an ominous sound in the air, a warning you could clearly hear.

- You've pushed your luck enough.

- With a curt nod to Lilia, you left her and continued on your way to the shrine.

- And Lilia remained there, shocked and flustered - feeling alive for the first time after so very long.

- Of course, you were just a human. But you possessed such confidence, such a stubborn aura around you. So different from her weak, sensitive nature.

- In the following 3 years, you would see her again and again. Lilia was a sweet thing, always waiting for you at the edge of the forest on that fateful night. It made your heart ache, the way her eyes would brighten with excitement and love - only to fill with tears when it was your time to go.

- Every year, you'd push the limit a bit more. Just a little bit more. Just 5 more minutes with the lovely fawn you've met in the woods. The one you've come to cherish more than anything the mortal realm could offer to you.

- You knew what feelings you had for her. You were also well aware of her feelings for you. It was hard to ignore them when she waited for you so earnestly. It was hard not to confess when she walked besides you, talking as you carefully listened - hands touching your back, your hands, wrapping around your waist as she nuzzled your hair and your masked face.

- She was warm and delicate - the soft smell of cherry blossoms intoxicating you in her presence.

- You encouraged her to leave her safe forest - to meet the other kind spirits of the realm. You knew they did exist. You've seen them a few times in your passing, but from a great distance. You had never dared to adventure closer, unwilling to show any disrespect to them - no matter how unintentional.

- Obviously, you were happy when Lilia made new friends. She told you about two brothers, about a lost princess. She talked about Ahri, the fox spirit of the realm. She mentioned so many spirits, always ready to share new information with you. It made your heart ache for her. So innocent and so willing to do the right thing.

- In your 5th year as a priestess, you arrived to the spirit realm prepared. Cherry blossoms bloomed in your hair, woven delicately into an elegant design. Instead of a purple kimono, you were wearing a red one, rich in gold and silver.

- You wore no mask - instead, a crimson veil delicately covered your face.

- You had offered yourself as a sacrifice to the spirits of the realm, to the unfortunate weeping of your fellow sisters.

- While they were crying in despair, you were crying out of happiness.

- You watched as Lilia froze in shock and recognition, followed by uncertainty and a brief moment of bursting excitement and happiness.

- "You'll have to accept me before someone else comes to snatch me away." You whispered softly when you came to a stop in front of her, your cheeky smile visible through the thin veil.

- She could only ask you why in a trembling voice.

- And finally, you were able to tell her. You loved her, of course. Why else would you do this?

- You told her you were sick of waiting one year to see her again. You told her that the mortal world was dull and lacking happiness in her absence.

- You told her you'd never been happier than in that very moment.

- And Lilia could only smile widely through the tears of happiness bursting from her eyes, shaking hands reaching for the veil to pull it off - before she pressed a soft, delicate kiss on your cold lips.

NSFW:

- Lilia isn't a very sexual being. She's more willing to please than be pleased. But, as your wife, she does make sure to satisfy you in every possible way.

- It isn't only about doing her marital duties, of course. As weak as she might seem, Lilia can become quite fierce. She knows how to say no when she feels uncomfortable - and that's mainly because she's so comfortable with you. She knows that you wouldn't force her into anything, nor judge her for saying no.

- Marriage in the spirit realm is different from marriage in the mortal realm. It's much more meaningful. As Lilia is a spirit - and you are to become wed to one, even as a human - sex takes on a much more meaningful touch. It's a bonding of your souls in more than one ways. It's the final rite in your marriage, after the bridge offering and the small courtship phase - which consists of Lilia offering you something to eat, something made by her, before taking you to bed.

- She's a gentle and loving partner. Honestly. there is no sex with her. There is only love making. She takes care of you better than any partners you might've had in the past, sensible and well aware of your needs.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

The Dreamz

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Language, Smut

Genre: Established Relationship

Summary: It’s your first Christmas with your boyfriend, Changbin. You want to make it memorable and surprise him, but maybe it’s Changbin who’s determined to make it unforgettable for you.

A/N: This was written for @clandestine-lixie​‘s Smutmas Collab!!!

You were a sentimental person at heart, and the people closest to you had always entertained your tendencies to take things to the extreme, especially when they involved your firsts.

For example, when you were barely seven-years-old, you were over-the-moon excited for your first dance recital, and you planned well in-advance for the event. You put on a pre-show for your family members exclusively in the living room of your childhood home, and you demanded that everyone dress-up for the occasion (even though it wasn’t required); and after the show, you forced your mother to take you out for dinner where you ate far too many cookies while indulging a very sugary milkshake.

And this tendency for the extreme persisted well into your older age, illuminating some of the finer memories you had of your most special moments. Like moving in with your boyfriend for the first time when you threw an impromptu party that very same evening despite Changbin wanting nothing more than to collapse on the new king-sized mattress in your bedroom. 

 But at this point, the two of you had been living together for close to six months, and since this was your first Christmas together with Changbin in the brand new apartment you had leased together, you were determined to make it memorable.

Too bad Changbin was making things far more difficult than they needed to be, and you would think the man would know the finer details of Christmas tree decorating.

“No, Bin,” you sighed. “You can’t just put all the ornaments in the same area! They have to be spread out.”

Changbin chuckled when you snatched away the adorable BB8 ornament he had been attempting to perch next to the other droid. 

“Maybe you should do it instead,” Changbin suggested, and he was clearly amused at your frazzled attempts to decorate the Christmas tree.

“We should do it together,” you insisted, taking a step back to scrutinize the work you had completed thus far. “It’s important to make our first Christmas memorable.”

“Oh, I can make it memorable,” Changbin said with a cheeky wink, and he sat down behind you on one of the loveseats surrounding the fireplace. “We should start a new tradition,” Changbin continued, and he waited until you had adjusted a few more ornaments in place before giving him your undivided attention.

“What kind of tradition?”

“Let’s open one present tonight, babe,” Changbin said, and he was next to you in a second, reaching for one of the packages from the back. “Unwrap this.”

“Oh?” you huffed, accepting the present from him. “It sounds like you were already planning for this to happen.”

“Well?” Changbin shrugged. “We used to do this when I was a kid, so I thought you might like it...”

You sighed, feeling an insurmountable weakness for Changbin’s pout. “Fine,” you agreed, and you surveyed the pile of presents you had purchased for Changbin conglomerated together. “Open this one,” you said, locating a familiar package.

“You first,” Changbin said, and he pulled you down onto his lap with his present discarded next to him; clearly, this was meant for him to enjoy just as much as you.

“Eager tonight?” you teased him.

“This gives me reason to be,” Changbin said with eyes that were literally sparkling with mischief, and you were careful with the wrapping paper while finding yourself thoroughly amused by Changbin’s excitement.

“What is it, anyway?” you questioned aloud, reaching the small black box that had previously been hidden by the bright red paper. 

“You should find out,” Changbin suggested, even though he was already a step ahead of you in removing the tape holding the edges in place.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” you asked, feigning annoyance as you sorted through the tissue paper, feeling yourself start to frown when your fingertips touched what felt like the most delicate satin that you had ever encountered.

But the texture of the gift wasn’t enough to keep you from over-reacting to the scandalous revelation of what had been waiting inside the gift wrap. “Changbin!” you screeched, tossing aside the lingerie like it had physically burned you.

“Hey!” Changbin protested. “That was expensive!”

“You bought me lingerie!” you hissed, flinching away when he dangled the very tiny pair of black panties in front of your eyes. 

“You’ll look sexy in this,” Changbin purred, and he encouraged you to take it from him. “Will you try it on for me?”

“Try it on?” you repeated, hesitantly accepting the thin piece of fabric that might as well have been nonexistent.

“It’s a matching set,” Changbin said, and he reached over for the strapless bra that happened to be lined with a very delicate lace pattern. “I had a store associate help me find it.”

“You went shopping around a lingerie store with an associate?” you questioned, feeling a spike of unjustified jealousy. “She didn’t model it for you, did she?”

Changbin snorted. “No, my model is right here,” he said, taking your hand to fold the other barely-there piece of intimate fabric into your hand. “Please, baby?”

Had you already pointed out your weakness for his pout?

“Alright,” you agreed, whining at Changbin’s outlandish enthusiasm to see you practically naked in your living room. 

Ten minutes later, you found yourself fidgeting nervously in front of the floor-length mirror in your bedroom, tugging at the straps of Changbin’s gracious gift for you.

“Is it supposed to be this small?” you wondered because the panties barely covered your ass and the lacy top did little to protect your cleavage from practically spilling over the top.

“Y/N!” Changbin sing-songed from the living room. “Are you ready?”

“Give me a second,” you called out, huffing under your breath at the absurdity of the circumstances. “This ‘gift’ of yours isn’t very practical,” you continued once you left the bedroom and made the short walk to the living room where Changbin was waiting.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Changbin said, and his eyes were already glossed over as they remained glued to your form.

“Hey! It doesn’t even fit right,” you complained, but you could tell the comment wasn’t even registering in Changbin’s lust--addled brain as he looked you over with a dark, studious gaze.

“You’re gorgeous,” Changbin eventually remarked, pulling you closer in spite of your protests.

You found yourself standing in between his thighs, trying not to shiver at the touch of his hands on your waist even though the fire was burning right behind you. “It doesn’t cover much,” you said, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around your torso.

“Exactly,” Changbin exhaled, and you rolled your eyes at the little things that impressed him. “Your tits look amazing.”

“Changbin!” you whined again, but this time he laughed and encouraged you to straddle his lap. “Is this really a gift for me?”

“Of course!” Changbin insisted, even as he maintained the appearance of someone who had just won the lottery, running his hands across your ass and up your waist to cup your breasts. “Come here,” he whispered, urging you to connect your lips with his in a heated kiss that betrayed the extent of the damage that your little show had done to Changbin’s arousal. 

“You’re hard,” you said against the taste of him, rolling your hips against his own just to feel the friction of his clothed erection against your clit.

“Can’t help it,” Changbin said, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair with a growl, pulling you lower so that he could speak directly into your ear. “Bend over the couch for me.”

You whimpered at the request, but you forced your legs to work in an effort to lift yourself from Changbin’s lap. It was hard to focus, feeling more and more wetness gather between your legs at his intense stare following you while you positioned yourself for him. “Like this?” you asked in a hushed tone, resting your hips against the arm of the couch and spreading your legs even further apart.

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you could feel yourself growing excited when you heard his footsteps nearing you, hands rough as they gripped your hips in a vice-like hold. “Such a good girl for me.”

You nodded your head - it was the only thing you could do when Changbin was in this kind of mood. Because his desire for you promised all sorts of erotic temptations, and you could barely contain yourself when he started to roll your panties down your legs, fingertips following a sensual trail that left goosebumps in their wake. His actions were sultry and smooth, but there was a degree of hurried anticipation that had you swallowing hard when two of his fingers found their way inside of your already dripping cunt. 

“Fuck,” Changbin cursed, and you could only agree while cherishing the glide of his fingers against the walls of your pussy, stretching you out for him in just the way you liked. Because it made you feel full and desperate, and you were rolling your hips back against his shallow penetrations, allowing you to do most of the work while he no doubt watched from above with the same dark eyes that had reduced you to a moaning mess. 

“Changbin,” you managed around a groan. “Please fuck me.”

“Can I?” Changbin asked, but you knew the question was meant to tease you - a test to see just how fast you could thrust back on his fingers, crying out when he curled them just right to brush against your sweet spot. “Are you ready for my cock?” 

“Yes!” you sobbed, and Changbin was generous enough to have mercy on you in this pathetic state, pushing down his sweatpants just enough to free his erection, rubbing the tip against your entrance.

“I’m gonna ruin this pussy,” Changbin promised with a rough growl that was followed by the sudden slam of his cock deep inside, and he didn’t bother to wait for you to adjust to his generous girth, pulling back out before settling into a powerful and non-relenting pace that had you already seeing stars.

It was sudden, but generous, and you couldn’t help but think that his cock was made for you, stretching your tender pussy so well, accommodating his length and girth as your walls hugged his erection in a desperate attempt to keep him inside forever. Because it was where he belonged, and you were certain that there was no better situation than the one you found yourself in - splitting in half around Changbin’s cock as he pummeled his hips against your own, bruising your delicate waist and ass with his overzealous touches.

“We’re definitely keeping this set,” Changbin said, ignoring your whimper of pain when he snapped the band of your panties into place, toying with the lace around the edges. 

“Changbin,” you said. “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby,” Changbin said, but it was hard to tell since he hadn’t let up once in his brutal thrusts - like he was determined to reach as far as possible, touching places that he had never felt before, stuffing your pussy full of his cock while grunting with the effort of his movements. 

It was all a masterful trap to reduce you to nothing but tears, and you soon found yourself teetering on the precipice, sensing your orgasm just out of reach, until Changbin maneuvered his hand down between the couch where you both remained connected, flicking his thumb across your clit in a series of measured strokes that lit the flame of arousal threatening to burn you alive from the inside.

You cried out when your orgasm hit, reaching out to support yourself against the cushions while Changbin continued to chase his own high, stimulating you just right while you rode out the waves of pleasure before crashing against the shore - feeling utterly exhausted while he started to move you on his own, and there was a renewed strength as he moved you up and down his cock, faster and faster until you thought you might cum again from the effort.

But then Changbin’s hips stuttered against yours, and you could feel the evidence of his release as it warmed your insides. “Y/N,” Changbin gasped, and you took some personal triumph in the fact that he sounded out of breath, even after visiting the gym that morning. 

“Binnie,” you said with a mischievous smirk, collecting your breath and thoughts while he recovered from behind you. “Are there anymore lingerie sets under our tree?”

You knew it was a dangerous question, capable of setting him off once more, but Changbin merely collected you against his chest with a strong arm around your waist, lips brushing against the side of your neck. “Baby, I can promise you that you won’t be able to walk if I have one more go at this pussy.”

You moaned when his hand reached down to cup your heat over the very thin fabric of your new panties, sending you a very obvious message because Changbin never broke his promises. “Should we call it an early night?” you asked, turning around his arms to connect your lips. “The faster we go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be Christmas.”

“Shower and bed?” Changbin asked, holding you close while brushing his fingers through your hair. 

“Just your average Christmas Eve,” you said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips as he kissed you with the remnants of the passion from your earlier coupling, solidifying the fact that your first Christmas with Changbin was, indeed, nothing short of memorable.

[alia-turin-fanfiction]

I love your writing so what do you say about writing a fic where Caranthir and Imlerith live in a double marriage with one girl? How a day would look like for them?

Pretty please

<3

Hi Nonnie. So I'm actually not sure if I can really go down that path and I will tell you why - Imlerith and Caranthir are the two creatures that I cannot being 'tied' down in a marriage, let alone in one where they share. In my own HC if they are bot attracted to a woman to the level where they would be willing to spend forever and ever with her, they both would be very possessive (in different away) and even obsessive.

However with that said, I do totally see them sharing someone if no feelings are involved so if that is around your ally (and I think it is) read below.

Warning: NSFW, asphyxia

Caranthir watched as Imlerith was whispering something in the servant’s ear and she somehow managed to giggled and blush at the same time. He found that an interesting combination, giggling would imply some sort of entertainment, blushing - embarrassment. How could you be entertained and embarrassed at the same time?

The two of them had been drinking and talking in one of the common areas in the palace. Imlerith was doing most of the drinking and talking as per usual Caranthir was keeping his thoughts mostly to himself. The servant girl had walked in and out of the room a few times, bringing drinks and excusing herself out until the next time she walked in. Every time she appeared Imlerith would look at her as if he had just found his next meal. Caranthir knew very well what would follow. He had witnessed that more times than he wanted to remember, with servants, just some random tavern girl or even a nobleman’s daughter.

The girl was already sitting in Imlerith’s lap and he was placing soft kisses down her neck. That was something Caranthir would never understand, neither from Imlerith, nor from Eredin...what was the point of teasing her, she was obviously willing, might as well move onto the main event and not waste time. At the end of the day it wasn’t love, for anyone involved and this will most likely be the first and last time for everyone involved. But while he viewed that more as a business transaction, he had a need, the woman had something that could satisfy the need, he was aware that mostly everyone else did not view it that way.

“I will leave you to it.” he finally said as he finished his drink and got off his chair.

“Wait.” Imlerith said as he almost moaned in the girl’s neck. “Join us. You want him to join us, right?” he asked her, but not him. He didn’t want to join them. Why would he even be interested in that? The girl looked at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining and then she nodded. She was pretty, he could not deny that. Long dark hair, big eyes, if anything Imlerith knew how to pick them.

“Not interested.” Caranthir was about to step away as Imlerith started taking off the dress from the servant. Her dark hair falling over naked shoulders, her body being exposed to him, with Imlerith’s large hands ravishing her tender skin. Despite his words he watched, his eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. Imlerith smiled and as annoying as that was, Caranthir could not move.

Caranthir made a step back to his chair and sat down, the tightness between his legs becoming a bit too obvious.

“I meant closer.” Imlerith finally said as he had completely undressed the servant.

“I think I am fine where I am.” Caranthir smirked. “You going to fuck her, or talk to me?”

Imlerith laughed. He wasn’t sure why Caranthir had decided to play but whatever. The kid could certainly use some fun time to get rid of the massive stick up his ass. He knew very well why he was keeping his distance, he knew that getting him actively engaged in that whole thing would be close to impossible.

“Let’s show him what he is missing.” Imlerith smiled as he slid his middle finger in the servant and she moaned. She was already so wet he was finding it hard to take it slow and wanted to just throw her on the table and fuck her unril the wood could not take anymore and crushed under the two of them. His free hand grabbed her throat and made her look up, exposing her body for Caranthir who was just sitting there with his usual bored expression. Imlerith pushed a second finger in her, feeling the tightness as she started moaning louder. Humans were so small and fragile, something he found entertaining. He could probably wrap his arms around her and squeeze the life out of her if he wanted, she wouldn’t even be able to struggle against his grip, He chuckled. He pushed a third finger in her, her legs violently kicking against his, her body trying to arch in every possible direction with pleasure. Caranthir was still sitting in his chair, watching, but not moving. Sometimes Imlerith could swear the man was of ice or was an actual corpse deprived from any feeling that could make him feel alive.

Imlerith was finding it harder to control himself. As much as he wanted to test how far the girl could take it or when Caranthir’s cold demeanor would break, he couldn’t wait forever. He pulled his fingers out of her and she moaned in displeasure, tired eyes looking at him in confusion but he gave her a wide grin. He pushed her against the table, her fragile body slamming hard against the wood. She tried to turn her head toward him, but Imlerith grabbed her hair and forced her to look at Caranthir as he used his free hand to pull his pants down. He didn’t give her any warning as he pushed his length in her, her back arching from the pressure.

“You had to pick the one place that would hide the view.” Caranthir chuckled and before Imlerith could understand what was happening the table moved underneath the two of them and slammed against the wall to his left. The servant almost fell, but his reaction was faster and he grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back and making her bend over.

“Well, enjoy.” Imlerith grinned and increased his pace positioning her hands so he can wrap one of his hands around both of her wrists. Her whole frame was so small, even like that he had a stable grip on her and if he squeezed hard enough he could probably crush her wrists for good.

She could barely realize what had just happened, one moment her body was pressed firmly against the table, next moment the table was gone and all that supported her was Imlerith’s grip around her hands. As much as the position was uncomfortable - her hands being pulled back, her body bent, her feet the only point touching the ground she could not complain. With every thrust of the larger elf her mind sank deeper in the feeling of pleasure. She did her best to lift her head and look the sorcerer in the eyes. One eye, the other one was hidden under his pale hair but she could still see the shine in it. She could not believe how different these two were, Imlerith had pulled her to himself and she was more than happy to oblige. He was touching her, kissing her, even when he was rough, the contact with her body never broke. Caranthir had been sitting there all that time, she wasn’t blind she could see the excitement between his legs, but he did not even reach with his hand there, he just looked at the two of them unmoved. Servants talked. She knew the Red Riders were different in almost every aspect. Scarier, rougher around the edges...Imlerith was definitely the later, the Navigator….servants talked. One of the things they said was that whatever they did to Navigators to allow them to travel through space and time broke their minds. She wondered if that was the case.

Suddenly Imlerith let go of her hands and she leaned forward, her palms hitting the stone floor the rest of her body following. She turned back annoyed, but she had no moment to even form a thought as he was back on her, this time his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer with every thrust he made. She could almost forget the other man in the room. Imlerith slid one hand between her legs but the moan of pleasure that was about to come out of her mouth suddenly died. Her throat felt tighter, air was just not flowing to her lungs as it should have. She turned toward the sorcerer in panic and for the first time tonight she saw an actual grin of satisfaction on his lips. His right hand was raised at his eyes level and his finger was making circular motion. With every circle his finger did she could feel the tightness around her throat growing. It felt like rope, but it was also freezing cold, she could not decide what was more uncomfortable, the tightness around her airway or the chill. Her mind was divided between Imlerith pushing her closer to her orgasm with every thrust and circle of his own fingers and the sheer panic that she might be strangled to death. Eventually her body won over her mind, she came around Imlerith, she would have probably screamed if she had enough air to do so, but all she managed to do was collapse down as the elf behind her came violently.

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, but as soon as the world made a bit more sense she realised that the tightness around her throat was gone.

“Come here.” The Navigator said and she tried to get up, but he made a dissatisfied sound. “Hands and knees.”

She didn’t need more details to understand what he ment. She crawled to him as Imlerith made a mocking laugh from behind. For a second she had forgotten her place, but they were both too quick to remind her.

When she reached him she knelt between his legs, a screeching sound distracted her - Imlerith pulled the table almost to the spot where it was and he sat on it, naked, his chest still rising and falling rapidly from the effort he had been inputting just seconds ago.

“Come on.” the larger elf encouraged. “Show him what he missed.”

She hesitated. Imlerith had been...easy. She knew he was dangerous, she knew his reputation, but she also did not need to guess what he wanted. The Navigator…

She pushed herself up and reached for his face, trying to remove some of the hair that was covering it, but he grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard. Her skin still tender from Imlerith’s grip she groaned. Despite the fact she stopped her she could see the scars covering his skin. They weren’t like Imlerith’s - his were blade or similar marks, Caranthir...that was something else.

“He grows on you despite his ugly face.” Imlerith mocked from behind.

She wasn’t sure what to do, Imlerith had kissed her before he started undressing her so she reached Caranthir's lips but this time his hand grabbed her throat. His palm felt cold, almost dead against her skin.

“No.” Was the only thing he said as he forced her back on her knees and positioned her head at his crotch.

She understood what he wanted, her fingers started working on the laces of his pants, her hand shaking a bit from the way Imlerith had been holding her. Once his cock was free she started licking teasingly, to her surprise the elf made no sound, she had to look at him to ensure he was even enjoying it.

“He likes it, don’t worry.” Imlerith laughed from behind her again. Just now she realised she was naked as he was watching this time pleasing the other man.

She tried to ignore the awkwardness of the situation, focusing on taking his length in her mouth as best as she could. Ignoring the lack of response. She moved her head up and down for a few minutes until she felt a hand in her hair. She tried to look up, but Caranthir had not moved an inch from where he was, his hands relaxed. Imlerith, however, was kneeling next to her, his fingers buried in her hair. He started controlling her motion, pushing her head as deep as possible until tears started coming to her eyes.

“Can’t even make her please you…” his words came out somewhat distant and the Navigator’s response was a grunt. She could feel him fighting with his own need to puck in her mouth, and the more he struggled the harder Imlerith pushed on her head until eventually she could taste salty liquid on her tongue.

Only then Imlerith released his grip and she found herself again on her hands and knees gasping for air. As she was trying to ease her body, the Navigator got up, she lifted her eyes and watched his tattooed fingers tie his pants again.

“Leaving?” Imlerith asked behind her as he petted her head almost gently.

“I’m sure you can continue without me.”

[pokefanclaire]

London Tourist

Hello! I’m so new to this but I have another Lucifendi ship fanfic (don’t judge me too harshly) Also I don’t own any rights to the game, or characters its purely my weird thoughts. So this one is about a visiter that will come to London, and the Commissioner has asked Lucy to be his tour guide but Alfendi gets jealous and mutual pining happens. Pretty tame but please let me know what I'm doing as its all so new! Any advice would be greatly recieved.

London Tourist:

Lucy quietly knocked onto the commissioners office door startling him from an unexpected evening nap.

“Ah Lucy my dear, take a seat. Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice. The matter I want to share with you is of a personal nature. So please excuse that I have chosen you specifically”

Lucy suddenly felt uneasy.

“I have a friend, a very dear friend of mine who’s son will be coming to London for a few days and I was hoping you would be kind enough to show him around London. Inspector Layton will be able to maintain the cases for you while you’re away. I would like you to do this as a favour to me personally so all expenses will be covered by me. Is that clear my dear. I have had my assistant book tickets for some interesting plays, tours and visits that I believe will interest a couple of like minded youths as yourselves?”

“sounds grand sir”

she beamed at the commissioner thankful her unease was unwarranted.

“His name is Eric, he is your age I believe possibly a year older. I’m certain you’ll get along very well. He will be a calm and welcome change from your changeable mentor.”

“I look forward to meeting ‘im”

Lucy felt very proud that out of all her colleagues she had been chosen to show the commissioners dear friend’s son around London.

“thank you Lucy, that will be everything. And I thank you for rising to the challenge of tour guide” He chuckled as Lucy skipped toward to door. ‘What a sweet and generous girl’.

“Night Commissioner! Thanks agai’”

“Good night.”

Lucy ran back to the Mystery room hoping her mentor would still be around to hear her ‘mission’. Opening the door Lucy was greeted by an exhausted placid Prof stretched out on the sofa with case files scattering the dimly lit room

“Lucy dear! You’re still here.”

“I’ve jus’ finished speaking with th’ commissioner”

“ah yes, of course. Sorry Lucy I momentarily lost track of myself. Are you about to embark on a solo mission? Can you tell me any details or is it on a need to know basis?”

Alfendi chuckled toward Lucy, adoring the pride on her face.

“oh it’s nowt like that Prof, its a personal favour the commissioner would like me to do for his good friend. He wants me to take care of his friend’s son while he visits London”

Alfendis eyes shot up to meet hers “He?”

“yea, some lad a similar age to me. Eric I think it wer’”

“…and…. you said yes?”

“’course Prof, I cant let him down. Besides I don’ have no reason to turn him down”

“……. oh”

“you can ‘elp if you like? You know London better than anyone ‘ere at Scotland yard. I still feel like a tourist”

“...doubt he’ll want to see the London eye once he sets eyes on you dear Lucy...” his voice suddenly sounded bitter as a streak of crimson hair washed over his head.

“Um hi Potty, I wasn’t expecting you this late in the evening”

Alfendi’s eyes were hidden under crimson dishevelled hair making it hard to read his expression but a smirk pulled at the edge of his smile.

“Just fine my dear Lucy, and yes I would be thrilled to guide you when my schedule allows. In fact i’m quite free now”

“We can wait for Eric. He will arrive tomorrow afternoon some time, and I have ‘is number here”

Potty Prof strode toward Lucy unexpectedly grabbing her wrists.

“In that case, now is the very best time to show you the city before any corruption. Don’t you agree dear Baker?”

His grip worsened on her now pink wrists. Before she could register the twinge of pain, Alfendi had pulled her forward sending her tumbling into his chest.

“Clumsy girl” he sneered. “falling for me are you my dear Lucy?”

Lucy looked up, unable to process the last few exchange of words.

“sto’ messin’ with me Potty”

Alfendi towered over her, a streak of red flashed across his cheeks as he crouched to meet her eyes.

“I haven't started yet my dear, now please collect your belongings. I really must show you what London can do to you before Eric has the chance”

‘Did I hear that ‘ight? Is he jealous of some lad I haven't even met seeing London wi’ me?’ Lucy had never seen her mentor like this. Lucy had regular run ins with Potty Prof, that wasn't new. But she was sure he had some new found venom in his voice while pronouncing his name too...

Lucy struggled to keep up with Alfendi’s new speed and determination to leave the mystery room.

“Baker! Come on!”

a desperate sounding Alfendi held his hand out to take Lucy’s. Pulling her from the room he fumbled with keys, hastily locking the Mystery room.

“I’ll get the commissioner for this.. I swear….” he snarled under her breath to no one in particular.

Alfendi took a deep breath “Lucy dear….” He held out a slightly trembling hand to her “….please allow me to…show you….what i’ve longed to… for some time… but if I can just....” He stumbled as flashes of burgundy replaced the crimson red of his hair “.. accompany you this evening” he finished by kissing the back of her hand.

“Prof? Are ya ok?”

“Yes dear, I just wish I had more time than fate has decided to grant me, more time so that… I could show you both sides.. and how… he is all bark.. he wouldn't hurt her....”

Alfendi’s train of conversation trailed off as he began muttering to himself. Or his other side she thought.

“prof if ya sure its not an inconvenience. Then lets go! Where first?”

Splashes of red and dishevelled hair gave Lucy a small jump.

“oh hi Potty! Where to first?”

“Baker, dear Baker...” He whispered in a sultry tone forcing her to take a step backwards.

“Why don’t we start here?”

Alfendi increased his steps toward Lucy.

Lucy instinctively stepped back matching his speed knowing how unpredictable Potty could be. Her wrists let out a twang of pain reminding her of his last practical joke on her. ‘You’re tougher than this Lucy lass’ she encouraged herself ‘He’s your Prof, he wont ‘urt you’ she glanced left and right in blind panic looking for an escape. Alfendi cupped her chin with his hand bringing her wide eyes to meet his. ‘Don’t panic’ Lucy thought as she acknowledged Pottys hand on her chin, softer and gentler than she expected. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks as she breathed in that familiar scent of her beloved Prof ‘Why now Potty? always keeping me on my toes’ an audible groaned slipped past her lips as she felt his heated breath against her lips

“Potty?...”

She took a step back to gain some distance.

THUD.

Lucy’s back met with the wall.

“yes dear?….”

Alfendis hand slid down her chin, caressing the soft skin of her neck.

“you know Baker, I wanted more time… This little situation with Eric has meant I have had to adapt to time constraints” he took a final step closer to Lucy closing the distance between them

“…..will you forgive me if I act at all un-gentelmanly under these circumstances….”

He lowered his hands to meet hers, lifting them above her head in one fast and smooth motion.

“….Prof? What’ got into ya all sudden like”

Lucy’s hands struggled against Alfendi’s but he was taller, stronger and currently sporting his darker persona.

“this aint some time to joke ya kno’ Prof ya said ya were gonna show me London before Eric arrives”

Alfendi leaned into her neck, his breath uneven and franticagainst her ear.

All the hair on the back of her neck rose as waves of electricity seemed to shoot down from her now numb arms held above her head. The comforting smell of Alfendi filled her head and she bit down on her bottom lip letting out a small squeal.

“I said i’d show you what I… I mean London can do to you..”

“Please Prof my arms.. they hurt a little”

Crimson hair flashedto deep burgundy as he let go on Lucy’s arms.

“Lucy, please forgive me, are you in pain? Are you okay.. please forgive me...us?”

Alfendi nuzzled his face into her neck not wishing to meet her eyes and confirm what he already knew.. that he had blown any future chance with his sweet Lucy. he spoke softly. 

“Please Lucy, its me I wont hurt you. I’m so sorry”

“Prof...”

“Lucy?”

Alfendi took a cautious step back and forced himself to meet with her rubyred eyes. Lucy stared into the Prof’s soft amber eyes, taking in the look of embarrassment and hurt that marked his face.

Alfendi scanned her face in a panic searching for clues to her expression was she upset? Scared? no. thats not it. A soft glow of red spread across her cheeks intensifying the ruby red of her beautiful eyes.

“Prof, my ‘ands were numb is all. Dont fret, I aint hurt”

Alfendi studied her face with desperate closeness causing Lucy to blush brighter with fresh heat flooding to her cheeks

“Prof please...”

she stifled a moan by biting down on her own lip wincing.

“Lucy dear…I cant begin to…”

“Prof’.Al......”She paused “Alfendi. I was never in any danger..not from you.”

An unfamiliar serious expression marked Lucy’s sweet face as she matched Alfendi’s closeness causing him to take a step back.

“wasn’t there something important you wanted to do to me Alfendi...?”

[ddarker-dreams]

hiraeth (i).

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

yandere! don! giorno giovanna x f! reader. collab with @dear-yandere​. read part two here! do not re-upload or use our writing without permission. › warnings: isolation, detailed panic attack, emotional manipulation, and implied sexual relation. › word count: 10k. › art credit: spearthymint.

“You can come out, you know.” 

Giorno’s words are meant as a small but necessary push, but at the moment, his encouragements just come off as chiding and impatient. You know that’s far from the case, as he’s always been tolerant of your missteps and reluctancy when it came to anything involving him, but your nerves on edge right now. This goes against all you’ve been forced to learn, all you’ve been forced to adapt to during your time on this island. Time has always been at a standstill behind these walls, with countless doors you cannot cross and an expanse of ocean that reveals to you nothing for countless miles. In such a situation, most people wouldn’t be standing before their closets in dismay, scolding themselves over what outfit to wear for a date with their captor; but, you supposed you aren’t most people, considering the Don of Passione has taken such a liking to you as to keep you to himself. It’d become commonplace, and looking through the expansive closet almost felt normal, designer outfits tailored perfectly to your measurements, awaiting to be picked. Growing up in a country renowned for its exquisite tastes in fashions and its constant supply of talented designers, you’ve seen clothing like this in fashion magazines or in the windows of boutiques you could never hope to afford; but now, these pieces are entirely yours, free for your choosing whenever you so desire. Under different circumstances, you would’ve felt like a successful model, one that would make your younger self proud with your fine jewelry and expensive makeup.

What would she think of you now?

Giorno has reassured you that you’re welcome to help yourself to everything here, that it’s all meant for you anyways, that your happiness is his. You know he meant it as something romantic, more akin to saying that your happiness would make him happy by extension, but considering your unwillingness to be here in the first place, his sentiment made it seem as if your happiness is something to be taken, something you cannot control. His actions are no different, despite his solemn assertions that keeping you here is in your best interest.

You don’t bring that up to him. It’d… it’d break his heart, considering how far your ‘relationship’ has come. You used to hate him with every fibre of your being. Now, you feel almost giddy to have a rare moment alone with him. A morning date by the beach, something romantic, something personal. This is a first for you both. There was a time you’d dread being alone with him; that time is long past, it seems.

You’re not sure if it’s for the better.

Running your hands over extravagant fabric, you wonder if the day will come when you feel comfortable enough to try these outfits on. It’s a world that goes beyond your limited understanding, too luxurious to feel real. Out of everything in this walk-in closet, you’re drawn to the plain outfits, clothing entirely unbefitting a woman who lives on an island villa with her influential husband. Turtlenecks and long skirts or pants used to be your first choices whenever he’d visit, wanting nothing more than to keep his eyes off of you. You thought it’d make him want you less, view you as undesirable of his money and affections, but Giorno isn’t so easily swayed. He does love you, you can tell that much from everything he does, from the way he touches you like fine art to the way he puts your happiness and safety first, even at the expense of your freedom. Even still, the inclusion of such plain outfits in your wardrobe shows Giorno’s thoughtfulness towards you, considering the little things. While he wants nothing more than to shower you in expensive gifts, your comfort comes first. He loves that about you, how you can find happiness and comfort in the simpler things life has to offer.

But… will he be disappointed at your lackluster selection? You almost chuckle at your own worries, at how natural it all feels and at how foreign it feels at the same time. Choosing a proper outfit is what someone on their first date would be concerned about, not someone stolen from their life and thrown into lavish isolation. He hasn’t gotten under your skin that far, has he? And, do you even mind anymore? 

Shaking your head at the thought, you chastise yourself. Now’s not the time to be thinking about such hurtful things, you’ve had plenty of time to wallow in self pity. Too much time, when he isn’t here. It’s gotten to the point where his presence is enough to quell your lonely thoughts — you no longer dread being at his side. Not nearly as much as before, anyways. Because now, you want to move forward. One step at a time. It’s the only way to live right now, the only option he’s presented to you.

“Is everything alright, amore mio? Do you need help?” He calls out past the foyer, breaking you from your self-deprecating and conflicting thoughts. 

“Y-yeah, just a moment.” You clear your throat, heart racing at his concern. Even the way he speaks… the worry in his voice that shows even in the smallest of actions, you can tell he’s trying. He’s been trying to make your stay a comfortable one, even if it’s always been against your will. What frustrated you at the start now elicits fluttering within your heart, his care borderline touching. Every detail of your daily life has been considered, intended to make you feel at home, going so far as to be mindful of the way he conducts himself around you. He must think you haven’t noticed, but isolation has taught you to be observant. Observant of where he keeps the keys, observant of the pattern in which he visits, observant of what information he’ll let slip when you lower his guard just enough. These thoughts used to plague you day in and day out; they’d become your only hobby, at some point. And yet, beneath it all, he’d found a crack to seep through, someplace just wide enough to make himself at home.

His voice no longer brings dread.

“Sorry, I’m fine. I... I just don’t know.” You continue, aware of how much time has already passed. You’re still hidden in the closet of your chambers, so your voice is muffled, and he hums in response, perplexed by how long you’ve been taking to doll yourself up. You’ve never taken this long before, not with him; you’ve always been content to throw on whatever catches your fancy, even if it hardly matches, and leave your hair undone and your face natural. He never once minded, but the difference in your behavior is stark. It’d be concerning if you weren’t so easy to read, so he settles against the banister with a small, knowing smile. 

You choke back the spit that had been pooling under your tongue in your daze. You’re keeping him waiting. You’re keeping the Don of Passione waiting. You used to relish in the thought, but today, it feels wrong. He’s waiting for you as patiently as he always does, but today is something special, something special to you for once. Today is the first time you’ll go outside, past the doors of this villa. Today is the first time you’ll go outside with him, willingly. Today is the first time you’ll enjoy it. 

You clear your throat, pushing those shameful thoughts asid. The fabric of your tailored sundress feels foreign against your skin, featherlight and airy. The silken skirts feel too short all of a sudden, now that you were one step closer to being under his gaze. He’ll…. he’ll like it, right? It’s a silly question, considering he likes whatever you wear, but you can’t help but dwell on it. You almost want to cancel this date and throw up instead, the butterflies in your stomach feeling more like a swarm than a gentle fluttering. You lean against the closet door and ashamedly sigh. “Giorno, this… this feels embarrassing.”

He always knows exactly what to say to make your heart flutter, so his answer is quick.“Amore, I’m sure you look lovely. You always do.”

His tone is lighthearted, amused even. To anyone overhearing, they might think this is a conversation between infatuated lovers. A husband assuring his wife she’s just as beautiful as the day he met her, as lovers would. No one would be none the wiser. No one would know that this is the first time you’ve been past your chambers in weeks. No one would know that he’s kept you here for months. No one would know.

The ring on your finger feels heavier than usual.

Moving on is such a tricky thing. A minefield you’re forced to navigate, stumbling and failing at times. You wish it was as simple as offering forgiveness, but both of you know it isn’t that easy. He upended your life entirely, turned it on its head, and no amount of remorse or forgiveness can bring back what was lost. All those months spent away from your family, your friends, your job. And yet, today, he’s extending a loving hand to you, giving a second chance. A chance at true happiness, or the closest thing to it in this situation. After all the suffering you’ve endured, it’s only natural to seek some form of solace. You’ve denied yourself long enough, having shed enough tears to last a lifetime within the span of a few months. Forgiveness won’t return what you’ve lost, it won’t excuse what’s been taken. Forgiveness won’t change anything, but neither will hatred.

Now, more than ever, you want to feel normal again. You don’t think of it as giving up, at least… you try not to. Instead, you like to think you’re making good out of a dire situation. Anyone would do the same, right?

You step past the threshold, back into what’s rightfully yours.

“Ah, amore. There you are.” He looks up from his little reverie, a soft smile gracing his features upon spotting you. He chuckles and pushes himself from the railing, setting himself straight to properly greet you. “I was right. You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.” He says, laying a gentle kiss atop your hand.

You clear your throat awkwardly, trying to draw attention away from your blush. “You’re too much, Giorno. You saw me just moments ago.” You’re grateful there’s no stutter this time. You’ve grown used to his suave mannerisms, kissing your hand being one of the most common, but it still sends your heart into a slamming against your chest. He has a way with charming you, despite everything he’s done. “And surely, you say that to every woman you meet.” Your eyes flicker away from his, a brief moment of jealousy upon realizing how many beautiful and intelligent women he must meet during trips abroad. It’s a silly presumption, really, considering he’s only kept you on an isolated island, to your knowledge, but the brief bout of jealousy refuses to subside.

“My words hold no such lie. You are lovelier than the last time I saw you, as you always are. Your beauty knows no bounds, amore mio.” He cants his head to the side, his smile knowing, and tilts your chin upward. You’re forced to look into his eyes as he says such sweet words as easily as breathing. “And, I assure you, I only have eyes for you. There is no one I love more in this world, not even myself.” His lips travel downward to place a gentle kiss against the ring on your finger. “And there is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, tesoro mio.”

The ring doesn’t feel nearly as heavy.

Gently, he places your hand back at your side and straightens himself. You give him a once over, secretly admiring his ethereal beauty. He’s well-dressed as usual, one of his many opulent and tailored suits hugging his figure in all the right places. The designs are immaculate and fine, grey pinstripes on darker grey fabric creating an elegant and put together look. It strikes you as odd to wear a suit for a beach date, but you don’t dwell on it. He’s a busy man, no doubt having had to clear his schedule just for a quick morning date with you. He’ll leave soon after, you’re sure, and for better or worse, the thought of being without him for another day hurts. You’re left without him for days at a time, and while you don’t always prefer his company, it’s been… comforting as of late. Nights spent by his side have become the norm, your head nestled against his chest as you sleep off the fine wine in your system. Pillow talk is something you never thought you’d indulge in with someone like him, but you’ve looked forward to it these past few weeks. At first, it was another tactic to gain information on him, but somewhere along the line, you began taking solace in his company. It’s all you have. He is all you have.

“That dress looks wonderful on you.” He compliments, enjoying the way the sunflower patterns on your sundress brighten your already-resplendent features. He extends his arm to you, which you accept without hesitation. The skin of your bare arms rubs against the coarse fabric of his suit, sending shivers down your spine. You must look like an odd couple, one dressed for an outing in the sun and the other dressed from a rendezvous at night; a reminder of how different your worlds truly are.

Once he feels you’re settled, Giorno begins leading you down long, empty halls decorated to the brim with tasteful vases, flowers, and paintings. You pay them no mind, their placements and features already burned into your mind from countless days wandering these very corridors, wishing for freedom. And now, what you’ve earned is starting to turn into a tangible reality. You’ve walked this path numerous times, having to stop when you reached a set of locked doors. Doors that lead to the outside world, doors you’ll finally walk past, hand in hand with someone you’re not quite sure you love just yet.

The pep in your step comes to a halt when you’re met with the familiar sight, the roadblock imposing. You almost forget that you’ll be walking past those double doors in a few moments, your body so accustomed to standing in this very spot and looking on in yearning. The shifting of fabric pulls you to reality as Giorno reaches into his suit, procuring a keycard and wordlessly unlocks the door. It’s a silent series of actions, the air growing heavy with tension. From how you tense, you assume he knows what you’re thinking, but doesn’t want to comment on it. If it’s for your sake or his own, you’re unsure.

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you. The sunlight is blinding, your eyes squinting and arm rising to lessen the impact. It feels prickly against your skin now that there are no windows to block the bright rays. While your eyes adjust to the unfiltered light, Giorno patiently holds the door open. This has been the desire of your heart, coveting the freedom to experience nature as you used to. 

You look over at him, for once grateful for how well he can read you. Even if you had the words to ask what’s on your mind, your tongue would be unable to form them. He offers a slight nod, encouraging you to take your time as you anchor yourself, a bitter tug at his heart that he’s put you in a situation where you need to ask in the first place. Inhaling silently, you gingerly step out, the ground growing softer. When nothing happens, you take another step, as careful as the first. Testing. Praying that this is indeed real life and not a cruel dream that serves to taunt you. How often you’ve dreamt of leaving this place, and it’s become a reality within a few days… even if the path does not lead to your freedom.

Sensing your inner dilemma, he takes a hold of your hand. The touch is light, not meant to constrict you for his own purposes. Should you feel the need to pull away, as if you had been touched with fire, you’d be allowed to. Months ago, you would’ve done just that. To spite him, and for your own satisfaction. 

You intertwine your fingers with his. 

When your eyes flicker back to him, you notice how his soft lips part as if in shock. Did you manage to surprise him for once? He must have never once thought the day would come where you’d willingly touch him rather than flinch away from his touch. But any cracks in his composure are immediately melded, Giorno giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Without thinking, you return his smile, your sincerity as clear as day. 

“If this is too much for you, then—” 

He cuts himself off when you shake your head firmly, lips set in a straight line. You’d never forgive yourself if you backed down now, not after all the effort it took to get here. Now it’s your turn to gently squeeze his hand back, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Let’s continue, okay?” 

Giorno doesn’t press the matter further. You allow him to lead you to a spot he mentioned earlier, though you can already guess where he’s going. The hypnotizing sound of the ocean draws you in, growing louder with each passing step. The loud calls of seagulls fill your ears along with the crashing of the waves against the shore, a sight you’ve missed from your time in Naples. You’ve seen it from locked windows, but it’s not the same. The gentle sea breeze, the tantalizing draw of an ocean without horizon; it’s a beautiful sight, even more so in person. 

Childlike glee fills you, nostalgia of trips to Italy’s many beaches flooding back. It’s different compared to then, no families enjoying their time together under umbrellas or vendors selling their goods. It’s far more private, as if the two of you are the only people left in this world. In your sheltered world, that sentiment holds some truth. Instead of filling you with the loneliness it normally does, you feel connected to him. Closer than you ever allowed yourself to be before, as if this small part of the world was carved out specifically to let you two meet. To let you two fall in love, a handcrafted Eden sealed off from the rest of society. 

Giorno watches, admires the way the sunlight hits your skin for the first time in weeks. You’re beautiful, the wind tousling your perfectly-styled hair, but you don’t seem to care. Your eyes are bright. You’re glowing, the same way you glow when you’re truly happy, the same light he’s grown addicted to over these past few weeks. You’re happier these days, more often at least. He’d begun doubting himself at some point, wondering if your sudden change of heart was a ploy to gain his trust or lower his guard. Countless nights spent watching you sleep after a few hours of intimate touches, wondering if what you feel for him is true. He knows he deserves none of it, not in any sense of the word, but the thought of betrayal hurts far worse than never receiving your love in kind.

But watching you now, he can’t seem to let those thoughts fester. Your happiness is genuine.

While you soak in the carefree atmosphere, Giorno bends down and picks a seashell from the sand, an idea forming. Imbuing the fossil with life, the texture changes to a softer one, bright yellow petals forming into a hibiscus flower. Gently, he nudges you toward him and places it behind your ear, admiring how it compliments your beauty. You blush, but don’t shy away as you normally would. Your eyes are still bright, curious and gleeful, and your lips upturn into a smile that rivals the ones you’d wear before he’d stolen you away.

“You should make one for yourself.” You speak, free of worries and with a hint of amusement at the thought of a great mafia don wearing flowers at your behest. “So we match.” You add teasingly, knowing full well how much of a sappy romantic he is. Matching with you should be sending his heart fluttering right now. Or at least, you hope you can ever have that effect on him.

Giorno chuckles at your suggestion. “I wouldn’t hold a candle to how you look.” 

Your face flushes further at how easily compliments flow from him, always from a true place in his heart. Any and all attempts to catch him off guard end like this, redirecting to praising you in some way. Not one to accept defeat so easily, you absentmindedly place your hand against the newly formed flower, thumbing the petals. The fibers feel so real against your skin, as if this flower was pulled naturally from the earth itself. 

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you do this… what else can you make, exactly?” You inquire, tucking your hairs around the petals to keep the flower in place. Giorno has always been keen on giving you vague explanations of his ability, likely so it’d be easier for you to understand. From what you can tell, his ability — a stand, as he’s briefly explained — is one of beauty, able to create life at the slightest touch. Gold Experience brought out curiosity from within you, one of the few reasons you started talking to him again. He’d turn random items into different creatures, earning your attention when you’d ignore him. Your favorites have always been things you can’t naturally find on this island, not without importing it from the mainland. Things like hibiscus, such as the one in your hair, or animals such as fireflies. Things you miss.

Before he can answer, you propose an idea. “Why not make like, a bunch of dolphins? Or great white sharks? Ooh, maybe even a blue whale?” Your voice rises near the end, like a child asking their parent for a new toy, and you collect your chin in your hand for further contemplation.“What else, what else...” 

His hand covers his mouth, hiding how his smile widens at your pondering. Giorno doesn’t stop you from thinking out loud, letting you ramble to your heart’s content. He’s never seen you this talkative before, the sight alone is too cute. Any thoughts about his work scheduled later that day are replaced solely and wholly with you. He’s never seen this side of you, yet, and he’s careful to take note of and admire your little mannerisms. How you talk with your hands excitedly, how your eyes light up and your smile reaches your eyes. It’s the first time he’s noticed you have a dimple, even, as he’s yet to see you truly smile. It dawns on him that there is a side of you he has yet to truly see. A side of you where you’re happy. But, does he deserve that sort of joy? Does he deserve you?

“What? Too much?” You smile and tilt your head innocently. “How about something smaller, more manageable? A... frog, maybe?”

He has his answer; he doesn’t deserve you at all. You’re too precious, too innocent. “A frog? Really?” He sputters out an indignant laugh. “I could make something much more interesting, you know. What about a butterfly? Some birds? Or...” He trails off, noticing the pleading gleam in your eyes.

“Please?” You whine. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen one. They’re so cute…”

“Frogs aren’t even native to this island, amore. Where would he go?”

“He can be my pet.” Your answer is so quick it nearly makes him burst out in laughter. You… you do have a point, actually. It’s not like you have any other company besides him, the rare occasions he does get to visit.

“Fine, but I’ll make it later. Something tells me you’ll be too preoccupied with him if I do so now…”, he laughs at the thought of you gushing at a small animal rather than him. It’s to be expected at this point, but he wants to be a bit selfish today. Just for a few hours.

You puff your cheeks out but eventually relent. The topic of a pet has been on your mind before, now seeming like the best time to approach it. You’ll hold him to his promise later, choosing to occupy yourself with possible names for your promised companion. It’ll remedy the loneliness you feel when he’s not around.

As he’s grown skilled in doing, Giorno redirects you. “Do you enjoy the ocean, amore?” 

Humming lowly at the question, you walk closer to the inviting waves, Giorno following close behind. “I mostly like the atmosphere. It’s fun in the moment when you’re swimming, but then I have to spend hours getting all the sand out of my hair.” You say, and he takes note that you’re quite rambunctious when it comes to beaches. Most people wouldn’t get that much sand in their hair, not unless they were practically rolling in the shallow. It’s a cute thought, but he doubts he’ll get to see you do so anytime soon. Maybe… on the next date, but he can only hope. It’s a miracle you agreed to this one.

As you approach the ocean, the sand slows you down, your feet sinking into it. When the water draws too near, you kick your flip flops off, embracing the grainy sensation under your feet. The sand is calming, a natural exfoliant against the soles of your feet and between your toes, sticking to your skin like sweat. It’s been so long since you’ve gone the length to take care of your hygiene past the basics, and coupled with the relaxing sound of waves hitting rocks, it’s calming. You feel at peace, finally. Your eyes close — content, the moment serene, as if you’re in a little paradise. You realize now is an opportunity to learn more about him, with his guard being lowered. 

Turning your head around, you mirror his earlier question. “What about you, GioGio?” 

He blinks at the unexpected usage of his nickname. You must’ve overheard Fugo calling him it sometime, but even that couldn’t compare. The way it sounded in your voice was intoxicating, compelling him to tell you more if only to hear you say his name again. He hopes you’ll say it again, his pulse quickening at the domestic implications. He gives some thought to your question before answering, pushing away the adoring thoughts. 

“To be honest, I never visited the beach often.” 

Even with all his mysteries, you were expecting an answer like that. In the time you’ve known Giorno, he doesn’t take time to relax. His mind is full of burdens and expectations, jobs that need to be done and the best way to complete them. From what you gather, it’s paid off. You overheard him talking to one of his men before, someone you noticed to be close to him. The nickname “GioGio” rolling off the man’s tongue felt almost laughable in the moment had it not been coupled with reserved praise for how far Giorno had extended Passione’s reach in only six months. Still, you don’t know if pity is what you feel, but it’s an emotion close to that. The only time he’s taken for himself is when he’s with you, and even then, you’ve always given him a hard time. It must be a difficult path, but it’s one he chose nonetheless. 

“We’ll have to change that then,” you assert with a smile, appreciating how the breeze kisses your skin. “I’d… I’d like to come out here with you more often.” 

The confidence you were hoping would accompany the words wavers, unsure if you’re pushing your luck. It’s a miracle that Giorno saw it fitting to bestow this freedom upon you even a single time — asking for more might be too greedy. But your fears melt away when his turquoise eyes soften, not interpreting your plea in a negative light. It could have been your imagination, but you sense a hint of guilt in them. Perhaps, regretting how often he has to leave you alone to tend to his own matters.

“I’d love nothing more than to do that, if you’ll have me.” He slightly bows his head, as if in meek shame.

You eagerly nod your head, accepting the extended invitation. Anything is better than being cooped up for ages, like you’ve grown used to, and if you’re being honest, his company isn’t nearly as bad as you once thought it to be. In fact, it’s almost calming. You used to fear how much power and influence he holds, as if the world itself is in grasp; but now, you seek it out. His presence no longer incites paralyzing, but rather feels like a warm embrace, beneath the composed mask he dons. And even then, you’d hate to give up this newfound freedom, however minute it may be. The ocean feels divine against your warming skin, Italian summers renowned for their heat. Venturing further into the water, now up to your ankles, you look around for any pretty seashells. Giorno lets you do as you please, watching over you with a content air from the shore. 

Crouching down, your hand runs across the sand to continue your search. You hum to yourself as the cold waters splash against your ankles and up your thighs, the sensation welcoming in this heat. The waters are bright and crystal clear, a benefit to your search as you gingerly pick up the shells that stand out to you the most. Maybe you’ll ask him to make one of these into your future pet, the thought an exciting one. The best seashell will be the one you hand to him. Or maybe, you can convince him to turn all of these into frogs… 

You look over your shoulder to find him standing just nigh of the incoming waves. It’s a sweet sight, how he draws as close as his outfit allows him, just shy of the waves touching his expensive loafers. He really is an uptight fashionista at heart. At that, a mischievous idea pops into your mind, a plan rapidly forming to enact your vision. Acting as you normally do, your hands continue to brush against the ground, and you let a dramatic gasp leave your lips. Feigning hurt, you draw your hand close to your chest, a muffled whine pushing past your lips almost unnaturally. Your acting has never been the best, but you hope it’ll do...

Giorno’s eyebrows furrow at the pained noise, and he steps forward without care for his outfit. He’s by your side in record time, bending down and reaching to inspect your supposedly injured hand. “[First], are you—” 

You can’t help but snicker, your free hand brushing against the top of the water and splashing it towards him. It takes a moment for him to process the unfolding events, suit dripping from your playful assault. More giggles leave your lips at his miffed expression, having never seen him look like this before. Not towards you, at least. It feels far more human than how he normally acts around you, that stoic and knowing mask gone for once. You’ve caught him off guard — a feat in and of itself. Not even his enemies can accomplish that much. Then again, you have the advantage of never being on his bad side even when you do things like this.

Giorno lets out a long sigh, muttering quietly to himself as the uncomfortable sensation of salty seawater settles into his otherwise expensive suit. “Sei fortunato sei così carina.” (You’re lucky you’re so cute).

“Hm? What was that, GioGio?” You inquire, too preoccupied with snickering at his expense to notice his words. He can’t allow himself to be upset with you, not when he gets to hear the angelic sound of your laughter. When was the last time he heard it…? It must’ve been a time before, a time long past. Maybe when you were interacting with your friends, or looking at something entertaining on your phone. Not even his little flirtations and tricks using Gold Experience have elicited such a carefree response. If this suit going to the dry cleaners is the cost to pay for hearing it again, it will always be worth it. 

He shakes his head, freeing himself from the heavy burden these thoughts bring. “Nothing. You’re not hurt, are you?” He already knows the answer, at this point, but it’s become a habit to ensure your utmost safety and happiness.

You don’t respond immediately, instead looking over his shoulder in a dreamlike stupor. Giorno is about to repeat his question before it clicks what it is you’re looking at with raw wonder. In the heat of the moment, believing you were in danger, Gold Experience Requiem had been summoned subconsciously. The Stand represents himself, his care for you that seeps into every aspect of who he is. It makes sense why he’d summon his Stand, even if he didn’t realize it in the moment. 

That’s not the problem here though. You’re staring at the exact spot Gold Experience is, it’s no coincidence. 

You look at the Stand with wide eyes, lips parting as you stand up to inspect him closer. He’d be a horrifying sight if Giorno hadn’t told you about his power beforehand. So this is... the personification of his soul? He’s never summoned his Stand in its entirety around you, only using its ability to imbue things with life. The realization that you can actually see it makes him purse his lips, uncertain of what to make of the new information. That means that you’re...

“W-woah,” you stutter out, reaching out towards the floating creature in pure awe. Your hand goes through it, like fog in the air. The Stand looks at you, perplexed despite its lack of proper facial features or musculature, its eyes glued to you as if in similar awe. “What is this, Giorno?” 

Giorno clears his throat, suppressing his worries as to what this could potentially mean for later. A question he’ll have to pose to Jotaro or Polnareff, he’s sure…. 

“It’s what allows me to create life.” He explains carefully, still unsure about how much information to reveal. Gold Experience looks down at you with similar curiosity, inspecting your person thoroughly. You’d be lying if you said it isn’t intimidating, eyes wide blown and seemingly staring through your soul. For some reason, you feel like it wouldn’t dare harm you. 

It draws close to you, gathering some stray pebbles from the sea. Wordlessly, the lifeless rocks turn into an array of colorful flowers, a circular vine holding them together. The Stand places it atop your head almost gleefully, careful to not hurt a single hair on your head. You hear Giorno draw a sharp breath at the display, perhaps not realizing his stand was capable of acting on its own like this. Gold Experience’s gesture is meant to be an act of kindness, a display of love. There’s no denying the pure intentions, even despite how terrifying he looks. Now knowing you’re capable of seeing it, the Stand looks at you almost expectantly, like a child waiting to be praised. Still beside yourself at the unfolding events, you gather yourself enough to offer it a beaming smile and soft ‘thank you’. He seems content enough with your reaction, returning to its user. Its eyes never once leave you, looking at you as if you’re the center of the universe, before it disappears completely from sight.

“I think he likes you,” Giorno clears his throat and hums, calling his Stand back to him. It’s a pleasant display, if not a tad embarrassing. What takes priority now is answering the numerous questions this brings to the table. “Do you feel anything… out of the ordinary, [First]?” 

His inquiry feels out of place, like you’re missing a vital piece of the puzzle. He knows something you don’t. It’s not often he uses your first name either, preferring to praise you with affectionate nicknames. Assuming he must mean your hands, you hold them up for him to inspect, showing all sides are without injury. When his expression stays the same, you wonder if he meant something else. Any other possibilities escape you, so you make do with what little you know.

“Not really, no. I’m just hungry.” you answer in honesty, squirming under his unflinching gaze. Your answer feels out of place, hanging from the air like loose threads, unwoven from its source. Giorno takes a few more moments to consider you, looking for dishonesty and finding nothing but confusion. You swallow thickly at the tense atmosphere, hoping you didn’t mess up in some way. Anxiety captures your hammering heart, and you shrink under his piercing stare. Giorno, quickly sensing your concern, returns to his typical expression, a soft gaze with an equally soft smile, only ever reserved entirely for you. 

“Ah, of course. You haven’t had anything to eat today. Come, I have food prepared.” 

Grateful at the change in conversation, you rush over to his side, warm sea water sticking to your skin in droplets. You don’t know what he’s hiding from you, and at the moment, you don’t care to find out. Nothing could be a worse fate than being locked up again for a transgression you didn’t even mean to commit. As long as that’s not the case, it’ll be okay. Lower lip trembling, you subconsciously take a tight grip of his hand. He looks down at the desperate touch, seeing how your smaller hands fit perfectly into his. Sensing the nervous air in your actions, he gives your hand a light squeeze, calming your nerves ever so slightly. Smitten by your actions, how willingly you still choose to touch him, he lifts your hand up and places a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You’re relying on him. He’s not sure what spurred the sudden change, but he’s going to enjoy it. It’s a modest showing that soothes your distressed mind. 

He’s not upset with you. You won’t be left all alone again. You won’t have to go days without human contact, sobbing and pleading for anyone to save you, to talk to you, to notice you’re gone—

“[First]?”

You don’t notice the tears that sting your eyes until it’s too late. The force makes you choke on thin air, searching for breaths that won’t come. The walls of your lungs are constricting into itself, your heart hammering so hard against its rib cage that you fear it’ll break through the skin and bone. Giorno watches with wide eyes as you unravel in front of him, your hand shooting up to muffle your mouth, the other latching onto his chest like a desperate prayer, begging him to make it stop, to make the thoughts stop, to make your heart still for once. You try to call out for him, to call for help, but the words lodge in your throat like bile and vomit. You choke on each syllable.

The weight of the world is crushing atop your shoulders, its jaws closed around your heart. Something is wrong — this is wrong. Your fingers tighten against his chest, wanting to beat against it, to hurt him, to make him feel the pain you’ve felt. You’re so close. He’s let you get close to him, close to his walls — let you tear them down. Weeks ago, you would have rejoiced in this. Would’ve used his weakness against him, would’ve fought back. If you were stronger, if you just weren’t so weak, you would have been happier. You wouldn’t be in this situation, clinging to a man who took you from life, clinging to a man who makes you question your own sanity. Everything — he took everything from you, and he still can. No matter how slowly you forgive him, no matter how slowly you give into him, he will always have control over your life. There will always be a disparity, a power dynamic — you will always be weak. 

You will always be trapped here, always wondering if you’ve taken a wrong step. If you’ve angered or bothered him. If you’ll see your family again.

Will it always end like this? Whenever something goes wrong, something trivial, something most people wouldn’t dwell on for more than a few seconds… will this keep happening? Will you break down each time? Will you always be this fragile, like glass?

Will it always be like this?

“[F-First],” he nearly chokes, gripping your waist to keep you upright. His heart breaks at the pitiful sight of you, like the air is knocked from his lungs just watching you suffer. He doesn’t understand what caused this, and his stomach sinks at the realization that this must be the norm for you. An underlying fear that things will fall apart with the slightest misstep, an underlying paranoia that incites the bitter bite of anxiety — because of him. Is this how easy it was to break you? Have you always been this fragile? How… how many nights were spent buried against tear-ridden pillows, crying until you doze off and wake up to another day with him? The guilt is overwhelming, the thought of you curled in your bed, surrounded by material things and yet nothing at the same time.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore. Let me help you.”

For all the times he couldn’t before, he comforts you, holds you like a lost child, soothes you in a way only a monster can soothe its prey. And you let him, desperately clinging onto the validation that you haven’t messed up in some way.

His arms close around the small of your waist, holding your trembling form tightly, scared you’ll fall if he takes one wrong step, scared you’ll shatter if he doesn't hold you together. Your sobs are choked, muffled against his chest, but the time of silence lets you regain yourself, the ringing in your ears dying down only to be replaced by the gentle lull of the ocean you adore. Your head is resting against him, those atrocious and lonely thoughts dying down for the time being, lulled into a sense of dubious security. They will plague you again, as they always do, but for now… for now, you’re grateful. He’s the source of your pain, and yet, he’s become the only remedy. It’s only when you pull back, hesitantly, that he releases you, his hand cupping your face. The pads of his thumb wipe away your glistening tears, worry etched into his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur with a pathetic sniffle, eyes avoiding his own. “I didn’t mean to ruin our outing. I’m not sure what came over me… I just, the thought of—” 

He shushes your self deprecating tandem, lips ghosting over your forehead in a gentle, brief kiss, stalling there with momentary doubt that he of all people shouldn’t be comforting you. He’s always had the patience of a saint with you, now is no different. Even when you cursed and belittled him, throwing crashing objects at him, he remained unshaken. This unshakable composure is a part of who he is, and, as much as he hates watching you fall apart for his sake, he is meant to comfort you. To console you, to make this new life he’s given you something you’ll come to enjoy. Your mind has been full of thoughts, self-deprecating and hateful, no matter how close he gets to you. It’s to be expected….

“You’ll feel better once you eat.” He suggests, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

You’re grateful that he doesn’t press the sensitive subject, whether it be out of shame for his actions or pity for your current state. Slowly, he leads you to a shaded area surrounded by hand-crafted flora, set up the earlier in the morning by his own hands. On the ground is a blanket, a picnic basket set in the middle. He helps you sit down, and takes his place next to you. This serves as a welcome distraction from the embarrassing display earlier. 

Giorno opens the basket, pulling out sandwiches that look different than what you’ve had before. They’re put together with care, ingredients dribbling out over the edge. A rather simple selection compared to most of the gourmet food you have here. When asked about it once, Giorno told you that your food is prepared by fine chefs. The quality of the food you had on a daily basis confirmed the fact. This looks different, more intimate somehow. 

He picks up on how you eye it. “I’m not the best cook, but I wanted to try it. If it’s not to your tastes, I’ll have something else brought out.” 

Your fingers brush over his as you gratefully accept it, a quiet thank you leaving your lips. His tone can almost be described as sheepish, and you swear his face looks a tad flushed. Waiting to see your impression of his food, he gazes at you with expectant eyes, trying to play it cool. 

Biting into the sandwich, you’re met with the taste of tarte jelly and savory peanut butter intertwining on your tongue. In a few seconds, you finish it in its entirety, much to Giorno’s internal satisfaction. His shoulders relax at your acceptance, not realizing how much your opinion truly means to him. He had to take care of himself growing up, learning the basics of food preparation for that reason. Much of it had been forgotten now that it was no longer required from him. 

You can’t help but giggle at his serious expression, instantly earning his attention. To hear such a divine sound so many times on the same day, was God smiling down upon him? It’s the only plausible explanation at how well this outing has been going. It’s more than he ever allowed himself to hope for, more than he deserved. 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he tries to get to the heart of your sudden carefree attitude. “Is something wrong?” 

“N-no, it’s not that,” you hold the back of your hand to your mouth, attempting to stifle the incoming bout of laughter. “It’s just… I was picturing you making this, looking all professional, with a chef’s hat and apron. Heh.” 

Another bout of faint giggles, your earlier panic slowly dying away with each laugh. Giorno’s never given much thought to such things, it falls more into the territory or something Mista would point out. He doesn’t mind being the object of your amusement, not when he gets to see you radiating joy like this. Is it too much to ask for this moment to never end? Duty will call him away eventually, the thought enough to threaten his moral. He knows he’s in deep when he starts debating whether or not the meetings today really require his presence. Unfortunately, they do, as much as he’d prefer your company over greedy and corrupt men.

There’s a lull in the conversation. Unlike him, your thoughts are much less hurried, your thoughts full of thoughts of him who sits beside you, content to stare at the sky and admire the shape of fluffy clouds. Pointing out the ones that remind you of animals or other silly things, explaining to Giorno how they might somehow be connected. A story of your own in the making. Every last drop of your arbitrary rambling, he soaks in as if it held the secrets to humanity’s existence. His intensity in stark contrast to your lackadaisical approach, hands intertwined by your side. A connection between light and darkness. Your head rests on his shoulder, the scent of his cologne mixed in with the ocean air intoxicating. 

Perhaps… perhaps this is what Heaven is like. No. This is better. Sitting here with you, the early morning sun shining down on you both, lifeless and still in the sky — he never wants this moment to end.

“I’m actually a pretty decent cook,” you pipe up, your thoughts still touched by the tasty picnic he’d put together himself. Your sentiment interrupts his thoughts, a proud gleam in your eyes as you toy with the plastic covering that used to hold your sandwich. “Or at least, I never gave myself food poisoning. That must mean something, right?” You giggle, brushing it off. 

The thought of you cooking sends his mind spiralling. Flour smeared against your cheek, hands messy with the remnants of eggs and spices, a cute apron tied around your torso… since when did he become so sappy? It’s unfitting of someone in his position, not that he cares all that much. His enemies don’t know that you’re his greatest weakness as much as you’re his greatest strength, and hopefully, they’ll never know. He’s always thought highly of you, your recent lack of resistance serving to amplify the feelings; he wants to know more, to learn more, naturally, without the need to check in on you through the countless cameras scattered around the estate.

“I’d offer to cook for you, but I think whoever already makes the food is better than me.” You blush and play it off, noticing how intently he’s looking at you. Biting your lip, you begin to wonder if divulging this information to him was for the best. He seems awfully curious now. “Surely you’d prefer meals made by a professional.”

Giorno doesn’t think before responding with unfiltered thoughts. “You’ve made me curious now, amore. I’d love to try your cooking.” 

You look down at the ground, playing with the frays on the edge of the blanket. The difficulties that would accompany cooking didn’t come to mind until he gave credence to your words.This feels too domestic, like a loving wife cooking for her husband after he returns from a long day at work. Would he enjoy your meals? What kind of dinners and breakfasts would he prefer? What kind of treats? Does he want you to make meals each time he visits? Does he have a favorite, something he’d prefer above all else? You said you were decent at cooking, but you don’t have many recipes under your arsenal, at least not from memory. Surely he’d get you some cookbooks at your soonest behest, but with the way he’s looking at you now, you’re certain he’s expecting something much more homemade, something made entirely on your own. He’s never tasted your cooking, after all…. and with how long it’s been since you’ve cooked for yourself, you’ve forgotten if it tastes as good as you remember.

Not to mention, how many tools would you be allowed to use? Giorno’s taking care in proofing the estate of anything you could use to harm him, like knives and forks, which are only provided to you during meals. All the complications alone give you a headache. It serves to showcase how impossible it can be to fully relax in Giorno’s presence, your mind always in fight or flight. A survival instinct to preserve yourself under extreme circumstances. You’d like to think those restrictions would be lessened considering how close you’ve gotten with him recently, but you know him better than that. Always calculating, always prepared, always composed...

Absorbed in your flurry of thoughts, you fail to notice Giorno is closer to you. He’s always given you appropriate distance, stuffing down his own desires in favor of keeping you comfortable. You must have made for a pitiful sight if he’s approaching you like this, brows knitting together in worry over your darkening expression. By the time you notice the stark lack of distance, you welp and nearly back away in fright, startled to find that he’s only an arm’s length away.

“I’m not… really that good, y’know.” you let out a humorless laugh, gnawing on your lower lip soon after. The words can be interpreted in a myriad of ways, far extending past the context of this situation. Your hands ball into tight fists by your side, self-deprecating emotions overflowing. Yet again, you’re on the brink of tears, in what should be a lighthearted outing. 

He doesn’t look down on you, offering nothing but an overflowing well of understanding. Giorno’s touch is light, so light you wonder if you’re imagining it in the first place. His pointer finger goes underneath your chin, the pad of his thumb rubbing soft circles as he lifts your face up. His face is so close to your own, you feel his warm breath fan against you. Loose golden hair tickles your face, which flushes at his close proximity. His other hand cups your cheek, and you lean into the touch. Accepting any form of solace is your internal justification, but even that feels like a weak excuse now.

What this is… is starting to go beyond that. And it frightens you. 

“You speak so lowly of yourself,” he frowns, not chastising you but pointing it out nonetheless. “To me… I see all your potential, your strengths. You have weaknesses, yes, as do we all. Where others fall short in this regard, you excel. Bettering yourself.” His smile grows weaker by the moment as he recalls more bitter memories. “Even in a situation like this, you have the courage to smile and laugh, to see the beauty in things.” — to see the beauty in him.

He doesn’t mention that.

He takes a deep breath, not having intended to ramble this much. You’re in awe, having never heard words pour from his lips this fast. Giorno’s always given diligent thought and calculating into every aspect of his persona around you, actions and words alike. Everything was meant to higher your opinion on him or to lull you into a false sense of ease. This confession feels authentic, without ulterior motive. Like the confession a boy would stumble through toward his crush, not the love declaration of a man with power beyond your wildest imagination.

He speaks of what he believes, unfiltered or obscured by a hidden agenda. And, despite yourself, you accept it. You embrace it, having never been spoken to in such a way, not by someone who loves you so wholeheartedly. While you might not believe his sentiments on a fundamental level, it’s enough to still your weeping heart. The ache dulls under his words, pacifying you enough to steady your erratic breathing.

His lips hesitantly brush against yours, emerald eyes asking for your permission through golden lashes. When you don’t retaliate or relent, he closes the small gap between your bodies, lips fully pressed against yours. Despite allowing it, your eyes widen at the sudden contact as his flutter closed. Quickly, you melt into the gesture, tempted to bury your hands in his loose golden locks like you have time and time before. The feeling of your lips against his is still foreign despite having spent countless nights in each other’s arms. Those kisses have always been born from passion crafted by the heat of the moment, but this was genuine. This kiss is filled with love, with adoration, and with a sense of longing and belonging he’s never felt before. His composure unravels like loose threads, his hands tangled in your hair, urging your lips impossibly closer to his. 

You lose sight of yourself. Giorno is all that exists to you at this moment. His soft lips, delicate touch, and reassuring words. When your head starts to spin, lack of oxygen becoming apparent in the thralls of passion, you attempt to pull back. He seems hesitant at first, as if not wanting this sweet moment to ever end, but gives into your qualms. You always come first to him. 

Everything feels so warm and tingly. Subconsciously, the tips of your fingers touch your parted lips, in slight disbelief at the whirlwind of events. He kissed you so gently, so passionately, but your lips are reddened and throbbing with excitement and… trepidation. What… what is this feeling? What does this mean? The look in his eyes just now, the gentleness in his touch, the passion in that kiss… it was unlike the rest. Long, sweet nights spent in each other's arms had never been this serendipitous, this loving. Not… not on your end at least. Is that what changed? He looks at you the same way he always does, but has the way you look at him changed? And… to what?

Your head is spinning with the implication of it all. You know the answer; you know you know the answer, but you shoot up from the blanket, unraveling yourself from the embrace of his arms, and dig your feet into the sand. You need time to think.

“[First]? Is everything alright?” He pipes up from the ground. “I didn’t do anything, did I?”

“N-no!” The words lodge in your throat again. Did he do something? To make you feel this way… did he trick you somehow? Is this all a lie? It has to be. There’s no way you could be… “I just… i-it was sudden. I’m sorry, I just need time to think….”, you trail off, breathless. You see his eyebrows knit with worry, and a brief lapse of regret passes over his features, but you don’t stay long enough to dwell on it.

He watches as you start to pace the beach, never once throwing a glance in his direction. He knows better than to assume the worst, always having been patient with your frequent withdrawals whenever things get too… much. Today is a day of fresh starts, and it’s wishful thinking to believe months of trauma could be fixed in the span of a few hours. He’s willing to wait, as he always has, but the sensation of your lips against his is mind-numbing. He wants more, truthfully. He wants to feel that way again, to feel your lips melded against his, like they belong there. Like you belong here, with him. Seeing you react like this is jarring, a cacophonous jolt to the doubt he’d banished to the far shores of his mind. The betrayal and worry on your face is hard to miss despite your attempts to hide it behind a curtain of hair. You’re biting your lip, and even though he can’t hear it, you’re muttering to yourself, unquestionably reprimanding your actions and everything that led up to that moment. You shouldn’t have kissed him, you shouldn’t have let your guard down, you shouldn’t have given into him like that — sentiments you’re no doubt thinking.

And yet, he is happy. It’s a start… but he hasn’t the right to rush you into something you may never truly want. You have no options — to push or guilt you into a relationship, no matter how desperately he may want to, is unfair. So, he exhales inaudibly, stuffing those selfish thoughts to the back of his mind as he always does. Avarice has no place here, not when he’s already taken so much. Keeping his desires to himself, while never a simple task, has grown more difficult. Now that he’s indulged in you once, he wants to come back for more. To experience love as he’s heard described to him countless times. The kind where two souls grow old together, their love never once wavering; a concept he was never keen on believing, considering his childhood which left bitter feelings that tainted his views on love time and time again. All of that changed when he met you.

You are worth the wait.