#and her thumb ROSE to meet HIS

[ajlockwood]

fingers touching fingers touching fingers touching fingers touching fingers touching fin

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[cherubfae]

Hi! I was wondering if you write Hazbin Hotel x Reader. And the Hazbin Hotel characters would comfort a reader who is dealing with a panic attack

Hiya! I do write for Hazbin, haha. In fact that's all I've been writing for lately! My requests just happen to be mostly Angel Dust. The other characters need love too 😭😭 I love Angel but I don't wanna get burnt out on writing just him either. Thanks for your request! Hope you enjoy!

panic attack || hazbin x reader

With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, and Vox

tags: fluff, gn pronouns used, implied masc!reader for Angel, implied afab/fem!reader for Vaggie, comfort, mentions of anxiety, established relationships

Alastor

Soft static crackles in his throat, neck tilting at an awkward angle. You sat on the front lobby sofa, turned away from him while covering your ears with your hands. He's never seen you like this before. "Are you alright, my dear?" When he receives no reply, his static increases. Why won't you look at him?

Kneeling in front of you, he's taken aback by your facial expression. A dreaded frown has replaced your beautiful smile, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you're absolutely trembling. What has happened? Has someone hurt you? Tell him who.

Alastor isn't quite sure what to do. He could usually say something nice to Charlie and she'd perk right up, but you aren't her. You're his darling, his sweet rose. And he hates seeing you unhappy. Lifting you into his arms, he dissolves into smoke and shadow to reappear in his tower. He places you down on the bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Clawed hands gently tug your own from your face, wiping away your tears.

"Tell me what I can do." Alastor whispers, a desperate twinge edged in his words. "I am here." He's gonna try his best to cheer you up. Playing some classical light jazz on his gramophone, humming and tapping his shoes. If you're lucky, he might even dance for you once you've calmed down.

Lucifer

Gentle hands cup your cheeks, thumbs soothing against your skin. He's breathing with you, encouraging you to follow his example. "Remember sweetheart, do the three three three rule." Lucifer whispers softly. "Tell me three objects, three sounds, and move three body parts." Your teary eyes wander his frame, touching his hands, his cheeks, and then finally his lips.

Kissing your fingertips softly, Lucifer never once ceased his gentle touches. A soft reminder that he's always close by.

Charlie

Oh, no! Oh no, no no! Okay! She knows what to do! Her Dad taught her how to do this when things felt too loud. Carefully, she cups your face making you meet her eyes. "What three objects do you see around your room, sweetie? Can you tell me?" Her voice is soft. Her warm body presses close to yours, her hand sliding down your arm to take your hand.

"Good, yes." She breathes. "Light, bed, and stuffed animals. Very good, honey." Charlie encourages gently, nuzzling your cheek with her nose. She pulls up your softest blanket around your shoulders and hugs you to her chest. When you've perked up a little, Vaggie is quick to suggest relaxation. "How about a nap, hmm?"

Vaggie

Carefully, she approached you from behind. Her hands, cold like ice, gently press to the back of your neck and begin to soothe and work any tight knots at the base of your neck and shoulders. She hums a soft tune, an old lullaby that was sung to her when she was little. It brought her comfort and she hoped its comfort would find you too.

"There you are, take it easy, love." Pressing a kiss to your temple, her hands comb through your hair. "I can run a bath, if you'd like? Might feel good." She wipes a stray tear from your eye, smiling as you squeeze her hands softly nodding. "Yeah? Alright, let's go, love."

Angel Dust

He knows that look well, he's seen it on his own face many times. Angel's first instinct is to bring you somewhere quieter and less populated. Crowds and loud noises overwhelm him when he's already feeling too emotionally overstimulated. Angel will sit with you as long as you need, holding your hand until you calm down. He'll gather whatever comforts he's able to grab, heck, he'd even ask Charlie for help if he felt really stuck and unsure of what to do.

"I didn't know what to get and so I asked Charlie, and she, well," he laughs softly. "Gave me one of everything. Chocolate, popcorn, chips, soda, juice, a face mask-- shit she really went full-out! These are luxury bath robes?!"

Husk

If there's something Husk understands it's that being a bartender you see people in all sorts of states in their lives. Happy, sad, depressed, divorced dad listening to rock music; he's seen it all.

So when you're on the verge of an anxiety attack, Husk drops everything and quickly approaches you, kneeling down to your height. His paw slips into your hand, allowing you to squeeze it, his other hand stroking your hair and pulling you to lean into his soft fluff.

"Easy there, tiger. Focus on your breathing, that's it." His deep voice rumbled against your skin. "That's it, kid. Keep on breathing for me, sweetheart." He nuzzles you gently. Husk may start purring too, as a cat's purr has been known to calm someone down.

Vox

To be honest, he's not quite sure what to do. Seeing you start to panic would probably make him panic a bit. He will approach you slowly, arms raised up almost defensively with his palms facing upwards. Is it okay for him to touch you? Yeah? "Okay, darlin', c'mere." Voxy's gotcha. Breathe in and out, in and out.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

Vox will bring you to a quiet, dark room, curtains drawn shut for you to rest and recover. His display screen is the only low light provided. Tucking you in, Vox will sit curl up behind you and carefully stroke your hair. Want him to play one of those black screen meditation videos? Whale sounds? He certainly will for you. "Try to get some rest, baby. That's all that matters right now."

[parkerslatte]

Centuries Coming

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N and Azriel have been close friends for centuries. When Azriel begins to pull away from Y/N to spend more time with Elain, a mating bond snaps.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

It had been nearly three centuries of friendship and Y/N was sure she would never get bored of her relaxing sessions with Azriel. For two weeks, he had been away on a mission while Y/N continued her intense training sessions with Cassian. They both were well and truly exhausted. 

Y/N’s room, which was situated right next to Azriel’s, was nearly silent as the two friends relaxed. The only noise emitting from the room were the soft sounds of the pages flipping in a book and an occasional content sigh. With her left hand, Y/N held the book up to her eye level, skilfully flipping the page with her thumb when it was needed. Her other hand occupied Azriel’s head, her fingers threading through his soft locks as his head rested on her stomach. The two were utterly content. 

Once Y/N reached the end of the chapter, she spared a glance at Azriel. His eyes were closed and his breathing even. Y/N stilled her hand movement in his hair for a brief moment simply to admire the shadowsinger laying before her. He was beautiful, she had always thought he was beautiful ever since she had met him. Azriel carried a sense of elegance in his features that only stone carvings held. From the smoothness of his skin to the sharpness of his jaw, everything was sculpted to perfection. 

“Why did you stop?” Azriel questioned, nudging his head against Y/N’s hand. 

Y/N let out a breathy laugh before continuing to thread her fingers through his hair. Azriel wasn’t the only one who enjoyed this. She was very much enjoying herself too– as well as enjoying the way his arms were wrapped around her waist tightly. 

“I was just lost in thought for a moment,” Y/N replied, playing her book down on the bed next to her, the hand previously holding the book coming to rest upon Azriel’s shoulder. 

Azriel opened his eyes to view the book she had set down before his gaze shifted to meet Y/N’s. “Are you tired? You normally only stop reading when you are tired.”

The smile on Y/N’s face was soft. She loved it when Azriel noticed small specific details about her. “I’m not tired, just relaxed.”

Azriel’s head lifted from Y/N’s stomach before he shuffled himself up her bed to sit against the headboard, his wings splayed out behind him.  

“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned, curling her legs closer to her body, suddenly feeling the cold now that Azriel had moved. 

“Returning the favour,” Azriel responded before gently gripping Y/N’s arm and pulling her so her head rested against his chest. 

Y/N couldn’t help herself but inhale the familiar scent that she loved so much. Nothing relaxed her more than Azriel’s scent. Whenever she was stressed or simply having a rough day, she would always seek him out and over the course of the past few months, she hadn’t even had a reason to seek him out. Y/N just wanted to be around him. 

One of Azriel’s arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders and tangled in her hair whilst the other wrapped around her waist, keeping her body close to his. Y/N rested her hands on his firm torso, feeling the ridges of hard muscle beneath. She blushed. 

“Oranges,” Azriel muttered, his head turning into hers. 

“What?” Y/N asked, her voice muffled by his chest. 

“Your shampoo,” Azriel said. “It smells of oranges.”

“And other citrus fruits,” Y/N responded. “I bought it when–”

“When you went to the Summer Court,” Azriel cut her off. “I remember you mentioning it a few months ago.”

Moments like this with Azriel were quite common within their friendship. The two would often find themselves wrapped up with one another. Of course it was strictly platonic, it was what it had always been. At least that is what Y/N thought it was, but over the past few years, she had begun to notice Azriel in a new light. At first she would just take note of how handsome he looked when he was at ease surrounded by his family. She would then notice how much she enjoyed being around him while it was just the two of them. Y/N never thought anything of this at first but that feeling of disappointment that overcame her when someone else walked into the room was one she couldn’t explain. 

One particular moment where Y/N realised that she was falling hard for Azriel was on her four-hundredth birthday, just a little over three years ago. He had decided to give her her present in private. It was a small charm bracelet. Whenever Azriel would go away on a mission, he would always buy her a new charm to add to it. Nothing meant more to Y/N than that bracelet. However, the bracelet was not the thing that made Y/N realise her feelings– it was the kiss on her cheek. 

As soon as his lips touched her skin, Y/N could only wish that they had connected only a few centimetres to the left. She needed to feel his lips upon hers but she could only ever imagine it. Whenever she found herself staring at his lips when he spoke or when he wasn’t looking, she always imagined the way they would feel on hers– and other parts of her body. Even now as Y/N could feel Azriel’s lips graze the top of her head, she wished she could just lean up and capture them with her own. 

Y/N could only wish that they were more than friends.

***

Many months later, Y/N found herself knocking on Azriel’s door. She hadn’t seen much of him since she had bought her own house on the outskirts of Velaris. It was a small cottage with a large stretch of land overlooking the mountains. Y/N loved the location as she could sit and stare at the stars all night long and never get bored. But one thing she did miss was Azriel. 

As she waited patiently outside of his door, she heard footsteps approaching before the door opened and Azriel came into view. It seemed as if he had just woken up as his hair was a mess and he was rubbing sleep away from his eyes– and he was shirtless too. Y/N had to refrain herself from admiring his figure. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, genuine surprise in his tone. “I didn’t know that you would be here.”

“I decided to stop by,” Y/N replied. “I haven’t seen you much recently, and I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me? I have a day off from my duties and was planning to visit the bakery that had just opened in the city.”

“Oh,” Azriel said. “I was going to take Elain there later. I promised I would go with her days ago.”

Y/N tried to keep the smile on her face, though it did falter a little. Her moving out was not the only reason she hadn’t seen Azriel much, the second reason was the middle Archeron sister who had seemed to take up a large majority of Azriel’s time.When she offered to hang out or train together, he was always with the middle Archeron sister. Even when they did make plans, Azriel always cancelled at the last minute to be with Elain.  Y/N didn’t want to say that she was a jealous person but she couldn’t help but be jealous of Elain. She was beautiful and kind. Of course Y/N was both of those things too but Elain made it so effortless, even when she wasn’t trying to be beautiful and kind– she was. 

“Okay,” Y/N said, stepping back from his door. “Well maybe we could go another time. What about tomorrow? We can make a day of it.”

The shake of Azriel’s head broke her heart. “I’m out with Elain tomorrow, as well. I don’t have the time.”

His answer was blunt and straight to the point. Y/N tried not to let his answer affect her but embarrassment seemed to encase her body. 

“Oh,” Y/N said, the smile now completely gone from her face. “I hope you two have fun, then.” Her gaze fell to the floor as she took another step back from his door. 

Before she could step further away from his door, Azriel caught her wrist in his hand. Y/N’s breath hitched as his skin touched hers. It had been a while since they had touched and it still sent goosebumps down her spine. Y/N’s eyes slowly travelled up his torso, the black tattoos swirling across his chest and shoulders. As her eyes met Azriel’s, Y/N felt as if she had stopped breathing altogether. That feeling in her chest seemed to pull her right to Azriel, pulling taunt until it snapped into place. 

A mating bond. 

The feeling of Azriel’s hand on her wrist was too much for her to bear. Y/N pulled her hand out of Azriel’s gentle grasp and held it close to her chest, missing the hurt look that flashed across his features for a brief moment. He folded his arms across his chest, hiding his hands. 

“If you want to wait, we could all go together,” Azriel said, his voice unusually quiet.

Y/N, somehow finding her voice, said, “No, I think I’ll just go on my own. Enjoy your time with Elain.”

Before Azriel could get another word in, Y/N practically raced from his doorway and out of sight. Her breathing became more and more ragged. Mate. Azriel was her mate. As Y/N hurried down the hall, she collided with a hard chest and stumbled back slightly. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Cassian asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Y/N frantically nodded her head. “I’m okay. I’m fine, I was just going for a walk.”

Cassian didn’t get to ask another question as Y/N continued her path, ignoring her friend even when he called out to her. 

***

That had been three days ago. Y/N had asked Rhys for a few days off from her duties. With the mating bond snapping into place for her, she hadn’t been able to think straight. All she could think of was Azriel. The bond urged her to go to him but her mind fought back. It clearly hadn’t snapped for him and Y/N didn’t want to pressure him into anything if she told him. 

For centuries the two had been friends– close friends. She had confided in him over everything because he would always sit and listen. He would hug her in her times of need and hold her until she fell asleep. Azriel was her rock. Y/N let out a sigh as she laid down on her bed. Why now? She thought. What was it about that one singular touch and conversation that made the bond snap? 

They have had many more intimate touches before. With Azriel’s hand gently caressing her cheek. His arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her from the floor to hug her tightly. Y/N’s hands gently touching his wing as she helped heal a painful gash. All of those touches had been a lot more intimate than the simple touch of her wrist. 

Even their conversations. The two had deep conversations about insecurity, inadequacy and many other important matters. There were conversations full of playful teasing that sometimes shifted over into the more flirtatious territory. Those conversations always made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster. But the bond hadn’t snapped for any of those. It had snapped when Azriel rejected her to spend time with another female.

Y/N rolled over in her bed and pulled the blanket further around her body. She still couldn’t believe that Azriel was her mate. The way Y/N was feeling, she was sure she had never had so many emotions within her in her whole life. 

She glanced at the charm bracelet on her wrist. It was decorated with eleven charms. The newest one was just over a year old. Normally Azriel would buy her a charm whenever he was away for a long period of time or on special occasions. Of course Y/N tried to stop him, she didn’t want him to spend his own money on her. But every time she mentioned it, Azriel would simply return with a new one much more beautiful than the last. Y/N touched the last charm he had bought her. It was a simple silver heart. There wasn’t anything special about it but it was Y/N’s favourite. 

As Y/N was lost in her thoughts, loud knocking came from her door. Y/N didn’t even attempt to move from her position on her bed, even when the knocking got louder. 

“Y/N, let me in!” Cassian’s voice came from outside. 

Y/N didn’t respond even as he complained about the cold. She pulled the blanket to her chin and looked at the heart charm. When she had first received it, she was sure that was a hint toward his feelings, that he might have loved her in the way she loved him. But only a week after gifting her that charm, he began to spend almost all of his spare time with Elain. Of course Y/N tried not to let it affect her too heavily– if Azriel was happy then she would try to be happy for him. 

“Y/N, I’m coming in!” Cassian called and she heard her door unlock. 

Cassian’s heavy footsteps came up her stairs until her bedroom door was pushed open. 

“How did you get in?” Y/N questioned, her head poking out of the mass of blankets. 

“I took the spare key from Az’s room while he was out with Elain,” Cassian explained.

Y/N felt her heart drop at the mention of Azriel out with Elain once again. He always seemed to have time for her but whenever Y/N spoke to him recently, he was always in a rush to get away or on his way to see Elain.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked. 

The bed dipped as Cassian sat down, pulling off his boots. Y/N turned over in the bed to face him as he got comfortable under the covers. She had missed Cassian recently. Of course he had been tasked with training Nesta so she knew that he had a lot to do but she missed these moments where they could just sit and talk. 

“I am just…confused,” Y/N said, sitting up in her bed slightly. 

“Why?” Cassian asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

Y/N looked down at her bracelet. “It’s about Azriel.”

Cassian’s gaze softened. “I thought as much.”

“What?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “How would you know?”

Cassian glanced down to the bracelet on her wrist. “I was with him when he bought that bracelet for you. He made me follow him around every single shop in Velaris to find something perfect for you.” Y/N’s smile was small but it was there as she conjured up the image in her head. “Azriel decided on that bracelet for you because he could buy you the charms to add to it and it would give him an excuse to give you presents.”

“I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t accept my refusal,” Y/N said, finally looking up at Cassian.

“He’s a stubborn bastard,” Cassian said, humour lacing his tone. “Especially when it comes to you. He loves you.”

Y/N scoffed. “He does not love me. Don’t joke about things like that, Cassian.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N,” Cassian said. “He has never told me, but I have noticed it in his actions. At every opportunity he has, he seeks you out.”

“It’s only because you and Rhys probably are not around,” said Y/N. 

Cassian chuckled. “Az has sought me out before when he was having a bad day, but he has never cuddled me until we fell asleep together in bed.”

Y/N glared at him. “How did you know about that?”

“You left your door open once and you were both asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. I have known Az all of my life and I had never seen him look so content. Every worry, every doubt, every trouble he has seemed to evaporate when he was in your arms.”

“That still doesn’t prove that he loves me, Cass,” Y/N said. “Now, can we please not talk about this anymore. I don’t have the energy.”

Cassian studied her for a brief moment. “Why did you rush out the other day?”

“I told you, I was going on a–”

“A walk, yes, but why did you rush out? You were clearly upset and you had clearly just come from Az’s room.” Cassian commented.

Y/N sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I just asked him if he wanted to come to the bakery that had just opened in the city but he was already going with Elain.”

“And you were jealous?” Cassian asked.

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N said and fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket. “It seems that since I have moved out, I have barely seen Az. I didn’t even move far away, it's about a fifteen minute walk, even faster by flying. Everyone but him seems to make the effort and whenever I make an effort, he is always busy with Elain.” Y/N sat up in her bed, now fully facing Cassian. “Sometimes I think he is purposefully avoiding me to spend more time with Elain. And I–” 

Y/N cut herself off. She had never voiced these thoughts aloud, they had just been swirling around her head for ages.

“And you what, Y/N?” Cassian asked gently. 

“I just miss him, I miss the way things were, I wish I never fell in love with him.” Y/N could feel the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Falling in love with him had to be the stupidest thing I could have done–”

“Don’t say that,” Cassian interrupted. “Don’t ever say that. Azriel deserves all of the love you have given him, and you deserve all of the love he has ever given you.”

“Cassian, Azriel does not love me!” Y/N exclaimed. “If he loved me, why didn’t the damn bond snap for him too!”

Everything was still and silent as Cassian took in the words of the revelation. Y/N felt a small amount of weight lift from her shoulders but it wasn’t enough for her to get out of her bed. 

“You and Az are mates,” Cassian said slowly, processing everything. 

“The day I ran into you was the day it snapped,” Y/N said, hugging her knees to her chest. “Why now? In the many years we have known each other, why did it snap now?”

Cassian shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. It’s possible that neither of you were ready.”

“I’m not ready now!” Y/N exclaimed. “Az and I barely see each other. He doesn’t have the time for me anymore.”

Cassian gently grasped Y/N’s clasped hands. “Y/N, listen to me when I say that you don’t have anything to worry about. Azriel loves you so much, it is so obvious to everyone around except you. He is in love with you.”

“You can’t be sure, Cass,” Y/N said. “I don’t want to tell him and fuck up out entire relationship.”

“Y/N, tell him,” Cassian said, squeezing her hands. “He deserves to know that he has a mate and he deserves to know that you love him.”

“You are sure that he loves me back?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet.

“I have never been so sure of anything else,” Cassian replied. “And it's Solstice in a few days, you could tell him then.”

“How do I tell him?” Y/N asked. “I don’t even know where I would begin.”

“That is the part I cannot help you with,” Cassian replied. “But whatever you do, I am sure that Azriel will love it. He loves anything you do.”

***

Y/N let out a breath as she walked through the halls to the living room. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She had asked Rhys where Azriel was and he had told her without question. The small box was clutched in her hands. Her plan was to give Azriel his Solstice present early and to tell him that she loved him and that they were mates. It was quite a simple plan but Y/N had to motivate herself to leave her house. She was rippled with nerves. 

“Just breathe,” she whispered to herself as she closed in on the living room. 

From down the hallway, Y/N could hear the mutter of a familiar voice and she smiled. It was Azriel’s voice. I can do this, she thought. 

As Y/N turned into the living room, her heart sank to the floor and the smile vanished from her face. Azriel and Elain stood in the centre of the room in an embrace and their lips only centimetres from one another. Azriel’s fingers were tangled in her hair as his hand rested on the back of her head and his arm was wrapped around her waist. Elain’s hands were placed on Azriel’s chest as her head was tilted up, waiting for their lips to connect.

Neither of them noticed Y/N, too focussed on one another. Tears immediately sprung to Y/N’s eyes. Azriel didn’t love her. If their passionate embrace connoted anything it was that Azriel’s infatuation resided with Elain. 

Y/N left the room before either of the two noticed, and she let the tears fall. Azriel wasn’t in love with her. Azriel was in love with Elain. 

Cassian was wrong. 

***

It was the morning of Solstice and Y/N stood in Rhys’s office waiting for him to enter. After she had left Azriel and Elain the previous night, Y/N had cried herself to sleep. If only she had never fallen for Azriel. If only she wasn’t his mate. Maybe then everything would be okay, she would happily tease Azriel about his infatuations with the middle Archeron sister and she wouldn’t be in this position now. 

But that wasn’t the case. Her mate was in love with another. Y/N should have seen the signs. Azriel had spent nearly all of his free time with Elain, the two had gotten so many chances to fall in love since they had began to spend time together. 

Rhys entered his office and sent Y/N a smile. “Why did you want a meeting this early, Y/N? It’s Solstice morning, you should be getting ready for tonight.”

“Send me on a mission,” Y/N stated. “Make sure that it is a long one.”

The smile fell from Rhys’s face. “Why?”

“I just need to get away for a while,” Y/N answered. 

As she lay in her bed deep into the night, Y/N just knew that she needed to get away from Azriel for a while. Just seeing him knowing that he was in love with someone else hurt her like nothing else. The bond only seemed to heighten the pain. Y/N wasn’t sure how Lucien was coping.

“Where is this coming from, Y/N?” Rhys asked. “You are normally the one most excited about Solstice.”

“This year I am not,” Y/N replied, her response blunt. 

Concern clouded over Rhys’s eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N? If there is anything you need to talk about you can–”

“I am fine, Rhys,” Y/N said, forcing a smile onto her face. “I just need to get away, preferably by tonight.”

Rhys studied her for a moment longer before finally nodding, knowing how stubborn Y/N could be. “Give me a few hours and I will have something sorted for you.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” Y/N replied. 

Without another word, Y/N left Rhys’s office. She thought that this space from Azriel would lift some of that weight from her shoulders, if anything the weight got heavier. 

***

Music was playing and laughter filled the room as gifts were handed out to each person. Azriel remained by the doorway, far away from everyone else– especially Elain. He was not sure what came over him the previous night but he was sure that he never wanted anything like that to happen again. Even as Elain sent him looks, Azriel only ignored them. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Feyre asked no one in particular as she piled presents up. “She has a lot of presents to open.”

Rhys’s joy suddenly vanished and Azriel stiffened. “About Y/N,” Rhys began, “she will not be joining us tonight.”

“Why?” The question left Azriel’s mouth before he could stop it.

“This morning she asked me to send her on a mission,” Rhys said. “I don’t know why but she was adamant.”

“For how long?” Cassian asked. 

“Three months,” Rhys answered.

“Three months!” Cassian exclaimed. “Why?”

Rhys shrugged. “She didn’t tell me.”

Azriel’s shadows swarmed around his shoulders anxiously. Y/N was gone and she hadn’t even told him where she was going– or why she was going. 

Cassian suddenly turned on Azriel. “Why would you let her leave? She told you everything and you let her leave after that.”

“Told me what?” Azriel questioned. 

Cassian’s face dropped. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Told me what, Cassian?” Azriel asked, his voice dropping lower.

“Look, Az, this isn’t my place to–”

“What was she going to tell me, Cassian?” Azriel snapped.

“That she is your mate, Az!” Cassian exclaimed. “She told me her plan and said that she was going to do it last night. She really didn’t tell you?”

“She’s my mate?” Azriel whispered, mainly to himself. 

The room was silent as everyone awaited Azriel’s reaction. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Mate, Azriel thought. Y/N is my mate. The shadows previously moving anxiously around Azriel came to a sudden halt as he pushed himself from the doorway. 

“Why did she tell you and not me?” Azriel said, trying to keep his voice level.

“That is not my place to say,” said Cassian. “You will need to talk to Y/N.”

Azriel felt everyone’s gaze fall upon him. He didn’t even register them. All he could think about was Y/N. She was his mate. How long had she known? Why didn’t she tell him? Why did she want to go on a mission? 

“Where is she?” Azriel asked, his gaze falling on Rhys. “You said you sent her on a mission. Where is she?”

“The mission was on the continent,” Rhys answered and glanced at the clock. “She asked to be gone by tonight but it wasn’t possible considering the short notice. She might still be at her house if she hasn’t left early.”

Without another word, Azriel raced out of the house, the calls and protests from his family quickly growing silent as soon as he was in the open air and shot to the skies. Azriel was sure he had never flown as fast as he had. Within a matter of minutes, he was outside of Y/N’s house. 

He remembered when she had first told everyone she was moving, Azriel had been delighted. But the longer he thought about it, the more distraught he became. Nearly every single night, he would fall asleep listening to Y/N’s heartbeat, even if she was in another room, he would hear it and it would soothe him. During those nights, he had noticed that he didn’t have any nightmares. In fact, all he dreamt of was Y/N. 

The lights in Y/N’s house were off and Azriel’s heart sank. If she had already left then he would return and demand Rhys to tell him exactly where she was going. The surrounding area was quiet, even the wind seemed silent. Azriel closed his eyes and hearted a quiet and familiar heartbeat. Y/N’s heartbeat. 

Before he even began to think, Azriel was frantically knocking on her door. “Y/N! Please let me in!”

There was a quiet shuffle from inside the house but not any movement of the door Azriel was frantically knocking on. “Y/N, please let me in, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment slipped from his lips before he could stop it but Azriel didn’t care. All he wanted was to talk to Y/N. Talk to his mate.

“Please,” Azriel whispered desperately. “I need to talk to you, Y/N.”

“Please leave, Azriel,” Y/N’s voice came through the door. “I need to leave soon.”

“No you don’t,” Azriel said. “Please don’t.”

“I am,” Y/N said, and the door was ripped open.

There was a small pain in Azriel’s heart as he looked at Y/N. There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and they appeared to be bloodshot. Azriel wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything was okay. But from the look on Y/N’s face, she decided against that. 

“Please leave Az,” Y/N whispered. 

“No,” Azriel said, forcing himself into her house. “I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”

“I need to get going–”

“When were you going to tell me that I was your mate?” Azriel asked. Y/N stilled and Azriel noticed that she refused to look him in the eye.  He stepped closer. “How long have you known?”

Y/N took in a sharp intake of breath before lifting her gaze to meet Azriel’s. “I found out a few days ago. The day I came to you asking if you wanted to go to the bakery with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azriel asked softly.

Y/N scoffed. “I tried! Last night.”

Azriel furrowed his eyebrows. “You never came to me last night.”

“I did. I had this whole plan but I showed up and you were with Elain again!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Of course I was with her!” Azriel said. “Rhys asked me to look out for her and make sure she was okay. I’m only doing what he asks.”

Y/N hummed. “Did he ask you to ignore me in the process? Did he ask you to seduce her? Kiss her?”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I mean, Azriel. Last night, I walked in on you and Elain.”

His heart seemed to drop to his feet. “You saw us?”

“Yes I did,” Y/N said, taking a step back but Azriel didn’t let her as he took a step forward. “Please just leave me alone, Az.”

“No,” Azriel said. “You are my mate.”

“And?” Y/N said. “It doesn’t matter when you clearly have your sights set on someone else.”

“Don’t say that Y/N!” Azriel snapped.

“Why? It’s true. You spend all of your time with Elain to the point where I never see you.”

Azriel groaned. “I told you, I was doing as Rhys asked.”

Y/N shook her head. “Azriel, for so many months, you have ignored me in favour of her. Every time I ask if you want to do something, you are always busy because you are with Elain. I haven’t even had a full conversation with you in weeks.” Y/N let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to admit that I am jealous, but I am.”

“Y/N, please, I don’t like Elain like that,” Azriel said desperately.

“Az, please leave. I need to get going,” Y/N said, trying to push past him. 

Something overcame Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. One second he was standing with his arms by his side and the next his lips were pressed against Y/N’s as her back hit the wall behind her. 

Azriel pressed his body against hers as his arms trapped her against the wall. As soon as their lips connected, Azriel felt the bond. The overwhelming feeling caused him to only kiss Y/N harder. It was almost instinct the way his arms wrapped around her body to keep her close to him. He never wanted her to be anywhere else except in his arms. It had been months since he had felt the curves of her body, although this time in a much more intimate setting. He had missed the feeling of her skin on his. He missed the feeling of holding her. He missed everything about her. 

Y/N’s hands came to rest on his chest and Azriel melted further into the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist tighter. It wasn’t until Y/N used all of her strength to push him away and his mouth was torn from hers. As Azriel opened his eyes, he wished he didn’t. Betrayal was lingering behind the colour he loved so much. 

“Why did you do that?” Y/N whispered, clearly hurt.

“Because it's you who I want, Y/N. Not Elain,” Azriel said, his hand trailing up her body to rest on her cheek. 

Y/N shook her head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to my face, Azriel,” Y/N said. “You can’t just quickly switch where your affections lie.”

“They lie with you–”

“Oh, please stop!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing Azriel further away from her. “I saw how close you and Elain were last night. I know that Rhys asked you to look after her but did that really need to entail pushing me away. If you really wanted to court Elain, Azriel. I would have helped, no matter how painful it would have been for me. There was no reason for you to push me away.”

“I already told you that I don’t want Elain. I only want you,” Azriel said, growing more and more desperate. 

Y/N scoffed. “Only because of the stupid mating bond.”

“It’s not stupid–”

“Yes it is! If it wasn’t stupid, why didn’t it snap when I fell in love with you years ago!”

Azriel stilled at Y/N’s confession. Y/N loved him. She loved him. Those words Azriel was too afraid to say himself, Y/N had said to him. His mind screamed at him to respond but as soon as the words reached his mouth he couldn’t get them out. 

“You say that you hold no affection for Elain but your actions speak differently, Azriel,” Y/N said, stepping past him. 

“Y/N, please listen to me,” Azriel said, reaching out to grip her hand. 

Her fingers seemed to curl around his before she seemed to think better of it and pulled away. 

“Tell Cassian to come and lock my door assuming he still has the keys,” Y/N said before she left through the front door. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, desperation evident in his voice as he followed her to her front garden. 

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen, she was gone, taking Azriel’s heart with her in the process.

***

It had been days since Y/N had left and Azriel hadn’t left her house. Each night he would curl up in her bed missing the scent of her. Even though the bed was too small to accommodate for his wings, it didn’t force Azriel to move. Rhys had tried to contact him multiple times but Azriel had ignored him as he buried his head further into Y/N’s pillows. 

There was a pain in his chest that had never been there before, it was as if he could feel all of the pain and betrayal Y/N felt and Azriel thought he deserved it. He deserved every bit of it. He should have explained better, he should have sat Y/N down and explained everything he was feeling in detail. 

Azriel pulled the covers further over his body, inhaling her scent. It was fading in favour of his own and Azriel hated that. As he closed his eyes, loud knocks sounded throughout the house. Azriel groaned. 

“Azriel,” Elain’s voice shouted through the door. “I know you are there.”

If Azriel didn’t want the ground to swallow him up before, he wanted it to now. He had no intention of speaking to Elain again– at least for a while. That night of their almost kiss was a mistake. 

“Azriel!” Elain shouted, her voice seemingly more irritated. 

With a groan, Azriel lifted himself from Y/N’s bed and he immediately missed the comfort it brought him. He dragged his feet out of the room and down the stairs until he stood in front of the door. Through the frosted glass panes he could see Elain standing there, her arms folded across her chest. 

Azriel’s hand shook as he reached out and opened the door. He revealed Elain’s face and there was an emotion upon it which he had never seen before. It reminded him of Y/N’s expression when she had pushed him away after he had kissed her.

“What are you doing here, Elain?” Azriel asked, his voice hoarse from not talking for days.

“What are you doing here, Azriel?” Elain questioned, forcing her way into Y/N’s house. “No one has seen you in days.”

“I’ve been here,” Azriel replied. 

“So it seems,” Elain said, surveying the living room. “But why are you still here? Y/N left days ago.”

Azriel remained silent as Elain inspected the flowers sitting in the middle of Y/N’s coffee table. He wanted her to leave. He didn’t want to be anywhere near her. 

“I know,” Azriel responded. 

Elain sat down on the sofa and finally met Azriel’s gaze. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“What?” Azriel said, wanting nothing more than to bury himself underneath Y/N’s many blankets and wish the day away. 

“Ever since that night, you haven’t even looked me in the eye. Why?” Elain’s eyes filled with tears but Azriel could tell she was trying to fight them back. It only made him feel guiltier. 

Azriel’s mouth opened and closed, trying to search for an answer. But every single answer he thought of would only hurt her feelings. “Please leave, Elain. It will be better for both of us.”

Elain shook her head. “I’m not leaving until I get an answer, Azriel. Why did you pull away from me? Did all of those dates mean nothing to you?”

“They weren’t dates,” Azriel found himself saying. 

Elain looked as if she had been struck. “But you have taken me to dinner, on walks in the park, to that bakery that just opened.”

“They weren’t dates,” Azriel said, only feeling guiltier. 

Elain frowned. “Then what were they, Azriel? Because you have been very invested in my life since I have arrived here.”

“I was tasked by Rhys to keep an eye on you,” Azriel admitted, ripping the bandage away.

“What?” Elain asked, her voice quiet. “So all of those days were you just pretending to like me?”

“No,” Azriel said, running his fingers through his hair. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it, Azriel?” Elain questioned, an edge to her voice. 

“I tried, okay? I really tried to like you, I really did,” Azriel said, admitting to the middle Archeron sister what he never thought he would. “That's why I agreed to go on all of those outings with you. I could never think of you more than a friend.”

“You were trying to force yourself to fall in love with me?” Elain asked. Azriel broke eye contact and looked to the floor, he didn’t want to see her hurt expression any longer. “Why?” She followed up.

“If I forced myself to love you, then maybe I wouldn’t still love–”

Azriel couldn’t say it. He had never said it out loud before. If he said it then it would become too real and there would be no turning back. 

Elain studied his expression, rising from the sofa. “Y/N. You are in love with Y/N.” Azriel’s silence was just as good of an answer spoken for Elain. “Why would you use me like that, Azriel? Unlike you, I actually began to feel something for you. I thought you returned those feelings.”

Something wet fell down Azriel’s cheek. He hadn’t even realised he had been crying. “I am sorry, Elain. I am so sorry.”

“Can you at least tell me why? You owe me that much.”

“I fell in love with Y/N a long time ago, long before you were even born,” Azriel began. “We were friends at first, but it wasn’t long before I fell in love. She is so perfect in every single way. Her intelligence, her kindness, her strength, her beauty. Everything.” Elain nodded although Azriel could see the sadness in her expression. He continued nevertheless. “I never thought that she would love me back. I never thought that she would return my feelings so I repressed them.”

“How did you manage that?” Elain asked, quietly.

“It was difficult. I have killed, tortured many for information and sometimes that takes its toll. But hiding my love for Y/N had to be the most difficult thing I have ever done. It wasn’t until you showed up and took an interest in me where I tried to fall for you instead.” Azriel picked at a loose thread on the shirt he wore. “I thought it was a perfect plan. You are kind, beautiful and understanding. I thought it would be easy for me. And when Rhys tasked me with looking after you, I thought it would be even easier. But whenever I was with you, all I could think about was Y/N. And when I nearly kissed you–”

“All you could think about was Y/N,” Elain finished. 

Azriel nodded. “When I opened my eyes and saw you, I panicked and left without any explanation. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry, Elain.”

“I don’t forgive you, Azriel. You used me because you loved someone else and were simply trying to distract yourself.” Elain said and there was a long pause before she began to speak again. “But I cannot blame you. Loving someone can be hard and difficult and can make you do stupid things. And Y/N is perfect and I don’t like that you made me out to be some kind of villain in her eyes.”

Azriel opened his mouth to speak but Elain cut him off.

“Please don’t apologise again, Azriel,” Elain said. “It would have never worked out between us. I never want to be someone’s second choice and that was all I was to you.” Elain began to walk over to the front door. “It will take me a while to forgive you, Azriel. But listen to me when I say this. Tell Y/N the truth, tell her everything.”

“I’ve already fucked up whatever friendship we had, I don’t want to make it worse,” Azriel whispered.

“You are her mate and her best friend, the one who knows her better than anyone, do you truly believe that your whole friendship is gone because of one stupid decision you made?” Elain paused as she stood on the threshold. “I hope you find your happiness, Azriel. I am going to find mine and I will not be a back up choice for a male who is too afraid to admit their feelings.”

“I hope you find it, Elain,” Azriel said. “And I hope you can forgive me someday.”

With a simple nod of her head, Elain left the house, closing the door behind her. Azriel was left alone once again. 

***

It had been a month since Y/N was last in Velaris. She thought that the trip would be good for her to get her mind off of Azriel but she wasn’t needed as much as she thought she would. For the month she had been on the continent, Y/N was sure that she had only done a few hours of work, the rest of her time she spent in her room she had been so graciously allocated. 

And in those lonely hours all she could think of was Azriel. His had been the last face she had seen before she winnowed away and it was ingrained into her brain. The hurt expression on his face, the desperation that lingered beneath it. Y/N turned over in the bed. It was comfortable but it was nothing like the one at her house. She missed being in Velaris and she missed her family– and that included Azriel. 

“Y/N,” a guard rushed into her room. “A letter has come for you.”

Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and took the letter from the guard's hand. “Thank you,” she muttered. 

As soon as Y/N looked down at her name in the familiar writing, she felt her heart rate increase. Tearing into the envelope, Y/N pulled the letter from its confines. Rhys’s writing was a welcome sight of home but his words were not. 

The words she read about how Azriel was faring after her departure sent shocks to her heart. She knew it was stupid for her to feel sorry for him, after all he had brought everything upon himself, but she couldn’t help it. She was in love with him and that would never change. 

The moment Y/N finished the letter, she picked up her travel bag, she hadn’t even unpacked anything, and exited the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to go home. 

***

As Y/N appeared in front of her house, she could immediately feel the air shift. Even though it was her own house, she was reluctant to enter. Everything suddenly felt too real. 

Finally Y/N pushed open her door and found Rhys and Cassian inside while Azriel sat on her couch, his wings slumped behind him. Y/N’s heart immediately fell at the sight of the shadowsinger. The bags under his eyes were prominent and he had clearly lost weight. Y/N had never seen him in such a state. 

Rhys’s gaze met Y/N’s. “Cassian and I will wait outside.”

Y/N didn’t respond as he gaze shifted back to Azriel who continued to look down at the coffee table, fixated on the dead flowers. As soon as Rhys and Cassian had stepped outside, Y/N slowly shuffled closer to Azriel and sat on the couch next to him. The bond connecting their souls seemed to hum happily as they were finally reunited. 

“Azriel?” Y/N broke the silence. 

“I am so sorry Y/N.” Azriel’s voice was hoarse and quiet. “About Elain. About ignoring you. About kissing you. About everything.”

When Azriel lifted his gaze, Y/N could see the sadness within them and she could feel it in her chest.

“Why?” It was all Y/N could say. 

Azriel sighed. “When you told me you loved me, I was shocked because I thought that someone so kind, so smart, so beautiful, so…perfect, would never love me back.”

Y/N stilled. “You love me?”

Azriel nodded. “Y/N, I have loved you for centuries. I was afraid that if you ever found out, it would ruin our whole friendship. And if I lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. You…complete me. I feel like I can always be myself around you. Before I met you I always felt like there was something missing in my life and when you stumbled into it, it was as if everything fell into place.”

“But everything with Elain? You say you love me but you have been surrounding yourself with her for nearly a year.” Y/N said. 

“I never felt anything but friendship for Elain,” Azriel admitted. “But I tried to like her romantically. I tried to force myself to fall in love with her.”

“Why would you do that, Azriel?” Y/N questioned.

“Because I never thought that you would love me back,” Azriel said. “If I fell in love with Elain then maybe I could forget all about my feelings for you, maybe they would disappear. But the more time I spent with Elain, the more I realised that I would never be able to fall for her because I was so utterly in love with you that I thought about you every minute I was with her. I thought about you that night before Solstice. When I opened my eyes and saw her instead of you, I panicked. I wanted it to be you.”

Y/N frowned, taking in Azriel’s words. “But what of Elain? Why would you mess with her feelings like that?”

Azriel’s shoulders seemed to slump. “A few days after you left, Elain came to me and demanded to know everything that was going on. It is safe to say that she is not happy with me.”

“Good,” Y/N said. “Because I am not entirely happy with you, Azriel. Why didn’t you just speak to me? Why didn’t you tell me you loved me? You just assumed that I didn’t return your feelings.”

“I couldn’t know for sure,” Azriel said. “I know it was stupid of me–”

“It was,” Y/N said. “In the three centuries I have known you, this is the stupidest thing you have done. We have always been open with one another.”

“I know. I regret everything I did. I regret using Elain to try and get over my feelings. I regret pushing you away in favour of her. I just never thought you could possibly like me back?”

“Why?”

“Because you are perfect!” Azriel exclaimed. “You are everything I am not. You are everything good in the world. You are a goddess in my eyes.” Azriel tore his eyes away from Y/N and focussed on his hand folded in his lap. “I am damaged.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N said, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t ever say that Azriel.”

“But it’s true,” Azriel said. “I have so much blood on my hands, Y/N.”

Y/N slowly reached forward and took Azriel’s hands in hers. He tried to pull them away but she held on tight. “Azriel, I have blood on my hands too. I am not perfect at all. Neither of us are, evident by the way we both handled our emotions.”

The shadowsingers gaze was no longer fixated on his hands as he slowly met Y/N’s gaze once more. “I am not going to easily forgive you, Azriel. You messed with Elain’s emotions and you made me feel unimportant as you pushed me away.”

Azriel’s shoulders deflated. 

“But,” Y/N continued. “That does not mean that I don’t still love you. My mate.”

All the weight on Azriel’s shoulders appeared to be lifted and his eyes seemed to clear. “Say that again…” he whispered.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. “My mate.”

Azriel exhaled slowly and pulled Y/N’s body closer to his until he could circle her waist with his arms. “I am so sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

“I know you are,” Y/N said, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. His eyes were closed but slowly opened as Y/N gently caressed his face. “You might have hurt me, Azriel, but I will forgive you. I know you well enough to know how you sometimes process things and act upon things.” Y/N pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “And sometime in the near future, I will be ready to accept the bond.”

Azriel’s eyes lit up. “You will accept the bond?”

“Of course I will,” Y/N replied. “I am in love with you Azriel. No matter how much you convinced yourself that I never could, I do love you. I wouldn’t want anyone else as my mate. But first, I want us to get back to where we were before. Before I accept the bond, I just want my best friend back.”

“I love you so much,” Azriel breathed out. 

And when he placed his lips upon hers, Y/N welcomed them.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

OMG Your Biggest Fan was amazing!!! I was wondering if you had any plans to do a part 2 for it because now I’m dying to know how it goes! -🍯

AN: don’t know if this makes sense, it’s middle of the night and I should be asleep…will proof read in the morning lol

Your Biggest Fan {2} || LN4

Warnings: more smut, butt plugs, squirting, only fans.

One || Two || SMAU || Three

It was comfortable in Lando’s bed. He had a much better view of the water from his place than yours did and a much lower chance of a sudden visit from your parents. It was why you were holed up at his apartment for the weekend instead of at home. It was one of the few times in the calendar year that they came back but they had to meet their quota of nights in Monaco to enjoy the tax holiday.

You didn’t want them to just drop by when you had hungry subscribers to feed.

In the other room you could hear Lando laugh at whatever AngryGinge said to him and you grabbed your laptop to watch the stream.

“Do you know what you should stream?”

“Only Fans.”

“Have you ever thought about doing Only Fans?”

You bit your lip as you watched Lando swinging in his chair and answer, “I do it.”

He said it so casually that no one would probably take it seriously, if only they knew. When he finished his streams he would often join yours, fucking you for all your subscribers to see - but they could never see your faces. He got off on the act, it drove him wild, but who were you kidding, you loved it too.

“I actually have to go,” he said as he lazily chewed on his fingernail. “My favourite girl’s about to start her show. Might join in, you know?”

How he kept a straight face, you could never figure out. He could be the most unserious person, except when it came to your account. He knew what was at stake if either of you were caught. It didn’t stop him from dropping vague hints though.

The stream closed and within seconds he was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head. He swaggered his way to your side of the bed and ran his thumb over your lip, dragging it from where you had pinched it between your teeth.

“Something to say, love?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“You’re playing with fire, big boy,” you warned as you rose on to your knees so you were chest to chest with him. “Only Fans?”

“This is me we are talking about, baby,” he laughed. “No one is going to think Little Lando Norris is getting down and dirty on Only Fans.”

“They got the ‘little’ part wrong.” You giggled and dragged your palm over his erection. Lando started to unzip his jeans and you lifted a brow as you unhooked your bra. “Who said you could join in?”

“I’m your biggest fan, babygirl, I can’t just sit here and watch,” he groaned as you pointed to the velvet seat in the corner of the room.

“Be good and I might change my mind.”

He dropped into the seat with a huff while you set up your laptop and the camera, before grabbing your toys and lube from your overnight bag.

Lando was patient, to an extent, but his nail bed would be ruined if he had to sit in the corner any longer and watch you fuck yourself six feet away from him. The plug in your ass was like a homing beacon and he rose from the chair without thinking, kicking his jeans off and freeing his painfully hard dick.

“Please, babygirl,” he begged.

You had enjoyed teasing Lando, knowing how hard it was for him to stay in the chair and watch you have all the fun. You had particularly liked the way his eyes widened at your newest toy, a shining gun metal plug that would stretch you almost as much as he did. You felt impossibly full with it in your ass while you stuffed a purple dildo in your pussy and rode it like you would Lando.

Your moans filled the room and your laptop pinged with all the tips and subscriptions coming through.

“Please,” Lando begged again.

“Fuck me, big boy,” you invited, climbing off the dildo and dropped onto your hands as he lined himself up behind you.

“I like this,” he chuckled as he tapped the plug, a moan tugging from your lips as it shifted inside you. “Very nice.”

“Just fuck me already,” you begged, feeling empty when you needed to be stretched.

Lando snapped his hips forward and the lewd sound of your dripping folds meeting his flesh made you both moan. It was almost too much, you felt so full you could hardly breathe. You resorted to quick gasps whenever he pulled back but you were left with a dizzying lightheadedness and stars dancing around your vision.

“Fuck, oh god,” you whined as your thighs began to shake. Your face collapsed into the pillows with a scream as the pressure exploded and Lando grunted at how tight you were. Your pussy gripped him like a vice as waves pleasure rocked you, the wave cresting into a flood as he kept rutting hard and fast, each thrust pushing the plug deeper in your ass.

Your screams fell silent as your entire body stiffened and then…utter bliss. You were weightless, floating, falling, spinning. Everything all at once. Your body didn’t know how to handle the ecstasy that coursed through your veins, the ecstasy that gushed from your cunt.

“Fucking hell, babygirl,” Lando moaned as he filled you with one last thrust. “What a mess.”

He chuckled as he pulled out of you, holding you spread for the camera so everyone could see his thick, creamy cum dripping from your abused hole before he pushed it back in with two fingers.

Soft whimpers and aftershocks rolled through you at the touch but it was the bigger gasp that cleared the daze when he pulled the plug from your ass.

“Gorgeous, babygirl. Fucking gorgeous.” Lando disappeared from the bed and skirted around the camera to your laptop. “Alright, pervs, goodnight.”

“You’re a perv,” you teased after the site was shut down.

“I’m a perv for you,” he corrected while swiping up a discarded Quadrant shirt. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently eased your legs open to clean up the mess he made. “I think I need a waterproof blanket.”

You smiled and tossed an arm over your face as exhaustion filled you. “I had the same thought.”

“Maybe I can come shopping with you,” he suggested as he picked up the plug and grinned at it. “You’re nearly ready to fit me.”

“Nearly,” you chuckled. “A little bit more practice first.”

Click here for SMAU.

[propertyofwicked]

LOOK AFTER YOU - LN

based on this request! ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - mentions of sick, poorly reader, mostly fluff <3 not proof read

masterlist the playlist

y/n hadn’t been sure why her body had woken her abruptly, until she felt a familiar dull ache in her stomach, panicking slightly at the thought of being or even feeling sick. she hadn’t felt well the night before, but she tried pushing the thought aside as she shifted out of lando’s tight embrace to lay on her back, hoping to manifest her inevitable illness away. but her blood soon ran cold, a sweat forming on her skin, and the need to run to the bathroom became unavoidable.

the first wave of nausea came early, some hitting the floor before she held the rest down and fell to crouch over the toilet. tears came streaming down her face as her sickness paused momentarily - she hated being sick, she hated that she’d made a mess, and she hated that she could hear the faint sounds of lando stirring, and the bed creaking as he made his way to her.

“y/n? bab-?” he began to call out, but found himself interrupted.

“the floor!” she shouted back, half stuttering through her panic, “watch the floor.”

lando had thought he’d heard retching, her tearful tone confirmed that for him as his gaze tried to avoid the sick and step around it. he stood in the bathroom door, assessing the situation momentarily before meeting her at her side, crouching down as his hand rubbed her back as his hand reached for a discarded hair tie to pull her hair out of her face as the second wave of sickness came over her.

“you’re ok, just breathe. just breathe,” he told her, his voice still gruff from his sleepiness. he reached out for some toilet paper, pulling the girl back into him to clean up her face slightly. her body slumped back against the wall as lando rose to his feet, moving quickly to fill a glass with water.

“need to drink something, angel,” he told her, pressing the cup to her lips and tilting it slightly as they parted. finally, she assumed this wave of sickness was over, but her breathing still hastened and her hands shook in her lap, the tears still rolled down her face.

“i-im sorry,” she uttered out, trying to avoid lando’s gaze despite him crouching directly in front of her.

“for what?” he asked her softly, moving to rest a hand on her jaw and stroke his thumb along the skin of her cheek, “being sick is normal, y/n - you don’t have to apologise for that.”

“for the mess. i didn’t mean to, ill clean it up i promise,” she told him, hands still shaking with the memory of her past boyfriend being so angry at her when the same thing had happened. y/n winced in anticipation of lando’s shouting to start as he remembered the floor, but it never came. instead, the glass of water was place to her side and his other hand settle on her other cheek.

“you will do no such thing,” he firmly told her, looking into her eyes. they were bloodshot, either from the strain of being sick or the crying - he didn’t know - but what he did know was that she was really unwell, potentially worse than he’d ever known her to be. he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling the way she was burning up under his touch, and yet her whole body shivered as though it was cold.

“you hot or cold?” he asked her, trying to check his theory.

“freezing,” she replied, noticing the way his eyes widened at her response, “why? what’s wrong?”

“you’ve got a a bad fever baby, meaning this is probably not a one time thing,” he told her, warning her slightly before he stood, pulling her up with him and letting her topple into his embrace, “gonna get you in the bath quickly, yeah?”

lando’s brain recited everything he had learnt or done before when someone had been poorly, knowing that ringing his mum at 3am was not an option. he started running the bath, checking the water was cool enough before he lowered her body into it.

“ill be back in a second,” he told her, kissing her forehead. he watched as her eyes shut, and leaving the room to clean up the floor whilst she attempted to bring her fever down.

the next morning was no better, y/n had spent the rest of the night either crouched over the toilet or shivering beneath a thin sheet as a hot sweat covered her entire body. lando stayed awake with her, scared to close his eyes in case she needed him, knowing that she wouldn’t wake him.

he had resorted to texting his mum anyways, explaining the situation as he asked for guidance. lando had sighed in relief when she replied, knowing she’d know what to do.

mum → she probably just needs to sweat it out. keep her cool, hydrated and comfortable.

mum → try and get her to eat some plain toast, little and often till she can manage more

mum → keep me updated please, and send her my love x

he smiled at the message, replying with a quick thank you before he moved back to the bedroom holding a bottle of water and a slice of plain toast. his heart filled at the sight of his girlfriend, curled up on the bed, her eyes staring at the film playing quietly on the tv.

lando sat on the bed, pulling her body to rest between his legs, her back laying on his chest. he could feel the way her heat radiated onto him as he helped her eat the toast, one mouthful at a time.

but y/n still couldn’t keep anything down, and hours later she was still lying in bed, trying to nap away her sickness with little success. lando had been gone a while, so she stood slowly, shuffling her way around the flat until she found him in the kitchen, doing something on his phone.

“hey what’re you doing out of bed?” he asked her, head rising to look at her when he heard her walk in.

“too hot,” she replied, moving closer towards where he stood, “needed to get a drink.”

“you should’ve just shouted for me, i would’ve got it for you.”

“im perfectly capable of getting myself a drink,” she told him bluntly, though immediately she disproved her own statement, having to grip the counter as her vision blurred and her balance faltered. lando’s arms reached out quickly, hands gripping at her waist from behind to stabilise her.

“im sure you are baby, but right now id love it if you rested and let me take care of you,” he told her, careful not to patronise her. lando began to move the two of them back to the bedroom, holding her tightly as he did, and lowering her softly back onto the bed. he jogged out the room quickly, grabbing some water from the fridge before coming back to she her laying with the sheet covering only her legs.

“how are you feeling?” lando asked her softly, lying next to her and tucking fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

“shit,” she replied, trying to hold back tears but lando noticed immediately.

“what’s up? what are the tears for?” he asked her, pulling her in closer with his arms wrapping around her body.

“i jus- i hate being poorly. i feel so useless and im just a burden to you. you have your own life to live you shouldn’t have to spend your time looking after me,” she told him, her body shaking slightly as she cried.

“it’s my job to look after you angel, the same way you look after me. and im happy to do it because i love you,” he replied, his hand rubbing up and down her back supportively.

“thank you,” she replied.

“mum sent her love by the way,” he informed her, happy to hear her laugh lightly after a rough day.

“i wondered how you knew how to get a fever to break,” she told him, leaning her head back to smile up at him.

“hey!” he defended, “i know things! i just thought asking my mum would be safer.”

“tell her thank you, from me. and thank you, really.”

“no need to thank me, baby. ‘just doing my job - you wanna try eating again? im thinking plain pasta this time.”

[aemonds-sapphire]

Persuasion

Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)

Word count: 2k

“Do not tell Prince Aemond.”

“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.

“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”

By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.

Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.

The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.

Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”

He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”

You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.

Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.

“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.

He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.

“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.

The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”

The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.

“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.

The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”

But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.

“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.

He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.

It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”

“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.

“No.”

Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”

It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.

“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”

Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”

Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.

“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”

You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.

“Tell me who it was.”

Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.

The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.

And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.

It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.

His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.

“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.

Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.

His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.

Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.

“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.

With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.

You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.

Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.

He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”

You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”

“Who hurt you?”

Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.

But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.

Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.

“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”

He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.

You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.

The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.

His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.

“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Aemond…”

Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.

At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.

However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.

“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.

But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.

The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.

He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.

“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.

He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”

Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.

That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.

Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.

You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”

“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”

At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”

“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”

He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.

“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”

Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.

He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.

Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.

“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.

Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.

But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.

He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.

“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”

“You punched my brother?”

You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.

“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”

He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.

The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.

He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.

“Look at me.”

You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.

Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.

“So tight…” he groaned.

You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.

Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.

“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.

Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.

At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.

He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Avy jorrāelan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.

“On my way to behead my dear brother.”

You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”

[kaznejis]

Public affair- Bucky Barnes x Reader

The Avengers PR department designs the perfect fake relationship for you- the key to instant fame and high ratings. Except, you’re already in a relationship with Bucky. 

Word Count: 8.2k / Read it on AO3! / Part 2!

Enjoy! 

“You’re joking- tell me she’s joking right?” you laughed, turning in the padded desk chair you had been ushered into upon entering the meeting room to stare at Nick Fury- the man only stared back at you, nonchalant as ever. 

“No, Miss L/N, we aren’t joking,” he rose, striding towards the refreshments table to pour himself a fresh coffee, “We find that this initiative will be … beneficial towards our engagement and how the public perceive the Avengers.”

The young, public representations co-ordinator that had informed you of the plan nodded then, shuffling a stack of folders and clicking her heels under the table; a mixture of excitement and optimism, “Miss, this project will see a significant rise in traction towards the Avengers, I mean, come on- you’re young and hot; everyone either wants to be you, be with you or see you in a beautiful, public relationship. Seeing as though the first two are impossible; this is the only option.”

“Okay,” you nodded, twirling a pen before aiming it at the woman, “Did you, may perhaps, forget the part where I’m in a relationship already?”

The woman sighed then, her lips thinning; the plump redness of her lipstick almost disappearing as stress lines creased her face. Trailing a finger down the edge of her folders, she spoke slowly- as if coaxing a rabid dog, “You see- Mr Barnes isn’t exactly, you know, the kind of person for a project like this–” 

“Seriously? Isn’t a public display of affection what this is all about?”

“No, Y/N- this is about public ratings. The public will not bide well with you having any form of a relationship with someone like … Mr Barnes; it would be career suicide for me and everyone in the PR department.” 

You nodded, humming and scrunching your eyebrows together as if about to say something inquisitive until your face dropped entirely, “Yeah, okay. I’m leaving.”

Nick stopped you before you could leave your seat, raising a hand and rendering you seated with the simple gesture, “Just hear her out, Miss L/N.” 

“Fury- you’re telling me you approve of this? You recruited us to be superheroes; not influencers.”

Nick turned then, placing his mug of coffee down and retreating back towards the table before sitting directly across from you; a pensive look on his face, “I’m sorry Y/N, but our ratings have dropped significantly recently. If people don’t support us, they won’t want us to save them. Just hear Sophia out.” 

Scoffing, you turned in your seat to glare at ‘Sophia’ who only continued to click her heels beneath the table, perhaps it had been nerves after all. “The plan is to have you appear in a few high profile locations with our high profile representative,” she reached for a remote and activated the projector before you, pictures of your ‘selection’ appeared, “So- don’t worry we have preliminarily selected your choice for you-”

“I don’t even get a choice?” you spat, leaning towards the woman in your chair; nothing but shock prevalent in your features, “So you’re shipping me off to just about anyone you can find?” 

“He is not just anyone!” Sophia snapped, her curled blonde hair bobbing back and forth as she seemed genuinely offended, “We have specially selected the perfect man for you; he’s military and is the first to gain three medals of honour. He’s a similar age and he is extremely respected within the public right now as he recently donated a lot of money to a selection of charities. It’s perfect!” She sat back in her chair as if overlooking an art piece, hands clasped together. 

Fury sighed, thumbing at his brow, “I’m sorry Y/N- but you’re arguably our most favoured female avenger- the public love you.” Raising his hands, he turned towards the projector where a recent video of you coaxing a herd of school children away from a fire began to play- your grip on their shoulders protective as you led each one away to safety. “You’re a positive influence towards our younger audiences and we all know that teen audiences love a good romance.” 

“You know, Fury,” you spoke slowly, lifting your feet to rest them on top of the table- much to Sophia’s chagrin, “Prostitution is illegal in the United States Of America.” 

“Y/N-” 

“Oh my Goodness!” 

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Nick composed himself, straightening his blazer and huffing at you, “It’s just a few dinners, picnics- whatever you kids like to do. You don’t even have to meet with him behind closed doors. It is strictly professional.” 

Shaking your head, you huffed- lowering your feet from the table and sitting back in your chair, “And what about Bucky? Hm? What will he think of this?” 

Fury opened his mouth to speak, though before he could, Sophia butted in; her voice urgent but smug, “Actually, Mr Barnes did agree to it. He was completely happy for you to do so.” 

“You’re lying.” You snapped, your voice stone-cold; disgusted at the woman before you who was willing to pamper with your relationship. You and Bucky had endured too much for the lower departments of Stark Tower to have any form of a say in your relationship- too much hardship, trauma and healing as you had fought both figurative and literal battles together. Despair swirled in your gut as you realised that others didn’t see Bucky the same way you did- seeing him only for the past that he had no say in and the contractual record that created a constant, trawling paper trail behind him. Every step he took was slowed by the consequential weight of his past. They didn’t see the same Bucky that made you breakfast in the morning or cuddled into your back at night. The same Bucky that woke up sweating, crying, screaming more nights than not, the same one that had fervently torn the hair from his head as the slightest change in position reminded him of the grease and decay that had once tainted his sight. They would never understand the complexity of Bucky Barnes and the beautiful flaws that etched beneath the tinge of his skin. 

Sophia’s mouth twisted in visibly faked sympathy, her lipstick now dyeing the edges of her lips red with an abrasive smudge. “Luckily, I predicted you would act like this, so I ensured to get his signature as solid proof for you. I don’t see any reason as to why you couldn’t be involved in this so you just need to scroll down and sign the next box.” She turned the screen before you and low and behold- Bucky’s signature lay before you in his individual bold scrawl. Tony had recently introduced a new system in order to avoid fraud and increase confidentiality- everything in Stark tower is accessed through fingerprints. Nothing unwanted can get in and nothing important could get out without sufficient clearance. Bucky was the only person that could have input the specific signature- the system making it impossible to replicate. Unease tinged in your throat then, if Bucky had truly agreed to this, then surely it would be for the best? If anyone were to understand the feeling of rage and disapproval within the public eye, it was Bucky. 

“Did he … say anything when he agreed?”

She smiled, the creases not quite reaching her eyes as they squinted, “He said that it was a great idea and he showed his full support for you. He said, and I quote, that he will willingly watch from the sidelines. What a great boyfriend, huh?”

You nodded, your attempts to hide the upset twist of your lips a failure as you scanned your fingerprint against the screen- Sophia’s face practically alive with glee as she confirmed its existence. As you shook hands with her, confirming a later meeting date- you failed to notice the lack of input from Nick. 

-

For hours you stewed over Bucky’s easy acceptance of the project- how he had essentially signed you away to be with another man in public whilst he watched in private. You had only recently discussed the potentiality of going public with your relationship- the irony of the conversation involving the detail of it being as simple as a few high profile sightings, a bit of PDA here and there. 

Maybe he hadn’t been as comfortable as he had seemed, you pondered as you leant against the kitchen counter that night- alone in the large, dark room as you had been unable to sleep. Slipping away from Bucky’s arms had been an easy task as he had collapsed into bed after a particularly exhausting day of sparring with Sam and Steve as according to his usual training program. Whilst he had enjoyed time with his friends; entirely unaffected by this plan surrounding your image- the bomb had been dropped straight into your lap. 

“Doll, is that you?” A gruff voice sounded from the hallway, the sound of bare feet against tile sounded as Bucky entered the kitchen- dressed in only a white, threadbare shirt and chequered boxers. He frowned upon seeing you, lowering the hand that had been scrubbing his eye as he spotted something in your features, “Why are you out here so late?”

“Just thirsty,” you smiled shallowly, offering him your glass of water as he neared you; curling an arm around your waist and trailing figures of eight upon your back. 

“Come back to bed with me? I gotta’ get my Doll time in before I leave for that mission in the morning.” 

Nodding, you smiled- cuddling into the warmth of his chest. He had been assigned to the take down of a suspected hydra base out in Mexico, He’d be gone for a week at most. You suspected that was why he had so easily agreed to the contract- its duration was only for as long as popularity surrounding the matter prevailed; which would also be a week at the most. 

Before you could respond, he pulled you away from his chest; his head tilted as he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m-”

“Y/N, be honest with me.”

You crumpled, your teeth clinging to your lips as you stared up at his concerned features, “The project that PR made you sign for- do you …  do you really approve?”

Bucky shrugged, nodding as he rubbed at your shoulders, “Of course. It would be great to be seen out like that. The people love you Y/N. I mean, it could arguably be the perfect test run for revealing our relationship to the public, you know, see how they react to this and then we can continue from there.” 

You felt your stomach fall as he spoke- the remnants of betrayal shook you as the residual sense of understanding that was always directed towards Bucky attempted to outweigh it. Rational thought prevailed as you tried, begged, wished to understand exactly why he had approved of this. Bucky had previously leaned into the role of the stereotypical ‘protective boyfriend’- a constant hand on your back, ever-watchful eyes, stares across crowded rooms. This was entirely out of his character. “Really?” your voice was weak, almost betraying you to the reveal of your inner turmoil. 

Bucky smiled, rubbing at your back and leaning forward to place a kiss behind your ear, his lips tracing the sensitive skin there, “Of course.” He stared down at you, curling a metal finger around a loose strand of hair and moving to tuck it behind your ear, “let’s go to bed Doll, it’s late.” 

“Buck, can we talk about this again in the morning?”

“Sure.” Bucky shrugged, amusement combined with confusion graced his features as he led you back towards your shared bedroom- the dual shuffle of barefeet the only prevalent sound within the silent hallway. However, your mind spoke a different tune- insecurities and doubts swarming your mind like hawks to their prey. The usual warmth of Bucky felt cold, unfamiliar- everything felt wrong. 

But if Bucky trusted the judgement of something, you would always follow it compliantly.

-

The conversation never managed to take place the following morning, the pillow beside you was vacant by the time you woke up. Only a note detailing the early set off for the mission left in Bucky’s wake. The note, written in his familiar scrawl, detailed his love for you- you could only think about the way in which that same writing had signed you off to be seen on the arm of another man. Your morning consisted of moping, ignoring your scheduled appointments and moping some more. It was only when Friday presented you with a particularly urgent announcement that you were able to leave your reprieve. 

“Miss Y/N- Sophia has requested your presence in the meeting room to discuss your upcoming appearances.” You scoffed as you pulled on just about any pieces of somewhat matching clothing you could find- not too bothered about your look as you were staying only in the confines of Stark Tower. 

“Perfect!” Sophia squealed as you walked in; a blonde, muscular man stood beside her at the head of the meeting room- wearing casual clothing suspiciously similar to yours, “Y/N, it’s perfect- I didn’t even give you a dress code and you already knew!” 

Shaking your head, you entered the room; your features visibly failed to hide your confusion, “Sorry?” 

“Sorry, how rude of me!” Sophia turned towards the man beside her, stepping behind him and presenting him to you by the shoulders. The man gave you a sideways smirk; his mouth slightly lopsided due to the extent of his sharp jaw, “Y/N meet John Walker- your new boyfriend!” Clapping as she completed the sentence, Sophia was practically jumping on the spot as she grinned at the two of you. Just to appease her, you shook John’s hand- smiling somewhat-warmly at him.

“Sophia- he’s not my ‘new boyfriend’ we have gone over this- strictly professional.” 

“Of course, of course,” she rounded the table and lowered herself into a seat, opening a folder as the two of you sat at each seat beside her, “So, a couple of details for you both. You will begin with a simple coffee date, hence the casual clothing, stir up a little bit of talk and then a few dinners to follow. Now, to the best part, drumroll please!” Both you and John continued to stare at her, “Finally, to end the contract, you will attend the high profile Stark annual charity gala together.”

“Sorry, what?” You froze- the gala was held every year; an opportunity for Tony to flaunt his extravagant wealth under the guise of donating large sums of money to a number of causes. Most importantly, Bucky would be at this gala- the two were not supposed to cross. “Sophia, Bucky’s going to be at that gala, I can’t possibly-”

“Have you forgotten Y/N?” Her voice cold and sardonic, the sound of it grating and rendering you silent, “Mr Barnes approved of all of this.” 

Nodding, you frowned, lowering your guard as the harsh reminder struck you, “Of course, but- he couldn’t have possibly agreed to this, I mean, it’s been agreed that we were going to go together- why would he go back on that?” 

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Sophia shrugged her shoulders in mock confusion, appearing to be pondering on your question, “Maybe he just saw the benefits of this. There’s always other charity galas that you can attend later.” 

“Sure… of course.” 

“Thank you,” you watched as Sophia flipped the page of her folder, “If you feel like continuing this agreement past the gala we can- but, I see it as a great end point. Once all is done, we will simply release a statement adding it all up to rumours or just fate. Outlets will be having the time of their lives over the next week. Me and my team will give a few strategically placed source reviews throughout the period- give the story at least a bit of credibility and all,” Sophia stood suddenly then, her curls shaking at the momentum, “I was thinking we could begin now?”

Defeated, you agreed without fight; finding yourself being escorted to the ground floor with John following simple instructions- get coffee and look like you’re having fun. It wasn’t the most difficult task- you enjoyed a cup of coffee and John was a fairly nice guy. 

“Hey, don’t worry about this too much- I got a girl back home myself.”

“Really?” You smiled, pleased that your pain wasn’t entirely one-sided, “So- did she agree easily too or-”

John laughed then, a smirk forming as his teeth glinted in the New York sunlight; he carried an ever-present feeling of arrogance within himself, “God, no. She kicked up a fight- it was only when they offered us the money that we agreed to this.”

Pausing, you plastered a fake smile and laughed heartily as you sensed the presence of a phone camera flashing behind you- you had been spotted. “Sorry, John, what money?” You grabbed his arm as you spoke, framing the image of the average, romantic-fueled coffee date. 

“You don’t-” he turned away from the camera, looking you sincerely in the eye, “You don’t know? You shook your head, “Oh- well, I wasn’t too convinced by the whole fame thing, no offence, so I only agreed to do this if they paid me.” 

Continuing your pretence, you just smiled- stroking his arm in order to appease the cameras as well as ease the swirling in your gut- had Bucky really so easily agreed to have you pawned off, simply to appease the opinion of the public? Bucky had never cared for them- not once throughout your time together had he cared about the whispers and the glares and the threats- he had ignored them, steering you away from the bustle of New York and opted to take you into the quieter streets of Brooklyn where he had grown up. The rare diners and stores that had survived since his childhood long ago had become your second home- mid-morning breakfasts and late night, nightmare-fueled outings alike. Luckily, your PR outing had not taken place in those same spots; it would’ve tarnished your relationship with those memories. Laughter and love replaced by fabricated and stilted conversation with a man you had only met that morning. Those days with Bucky had been between the two of you, nothing would ever replicate that. As you stood in the streets of New York, your hand on the arm of an unfamiliar man and the flashes of cameras whirring around you- you realised that whatever reason Bucky had, whatever had convinced him to accept this, you would wholeheartedly understand. 

The story was on the front page within a number of hours, a large picture of you plastering on that fake laugh as you stroked John’s arm was relayed across the paper’s online forum- the article as sensationalised and pretentious as it could be. 

NEW COUPLE ALERT

Everyone’s favourite Avenger, Y/N L/N, was spotted on the cutest coffee date in New York today, with our favourite military hero John Walker, no less! For those who are unaware of this wonderful hunk of a man, he is the first to gain three medals of honour; everyone commend him for his bravery in defending our country! Sources close to the couple confirm that this relationship is new though it has been building up for a long time with the two deciding to go public this very morning. We congratulate the couple and wish them the best. 

There was no going back from this, the documentation of your supposed ‘date’ was now public- part of you hoped that Bucky would see it, feel some twinge of jealousy, regret, whatever emotions came with signing you up so willingly for something like this. Though the other part of you, the part that loved him wholeheartedly; hoped that he wouldn’t see it, hoped that this was all some big misunderstanding that could be left behind; a stupid mistake of the past. 

As you stared down at the article, thumbing the screen as you stared down at the photo of yourself in the streets of New York- smile wide, eyes bright, that hand clasped around his arm- a myriad of heels sounded down the hallway. 

“Y/N? Are you here?” it was Wanda, you had no doubt that Vision would be following close behind; ready to give some annoyingly insightful advice pulled from some dark corner of a forum. Beckoning her inside, you watched as she entered the room; her face held a number of emotions: stricken, confused, angry. Her left hand held her phone- the article open on your very own could be seen in glimpses as she began to wave her arms frantically. “What- what is going on Y/N? Do you need us to get rid of this? Vision can wipe it from the internet in a matter of seconds- yep- I’ll get him to track down all traces of this photo and remove it. I mean, the audacity of the public to even post things like this; Nat had a similar thing with her assistant and we got rid of that one don’t you-”

“It’s real, Wanda.”

Screeches could practically be heard as Wanda halted in her tracks, behind her Vision too paused suddenly; seemingly phasing back to reality as he halted the tracking within his database. “What do you mean? ‘It’s real’?”

“It’s not a fake, that was this morning.” Your voice was defeated, eyes casted downwards as you refused to meet the eyes of your friend. 

“Y/N is correct,” Vision spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he turned to nod at Wanda, “The photo is real.” 

“Y/N …” Wanda spoke slowly, her eyes swarming with confusion as she looked between the two of you, “What? I thought- what about Bucky?”

“It’s a scheme set up by the PR department to ‘improve our image’,” you acted out finger quotes sarcastically, “be seen with a nice guy on a few outings and the public opinion of the Avengers soars.” 

“How-” Wanda was angry now, her hands clenching as she moved to sit beside you, a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Why would you agree to this, Y/N?” 

“It sounded like it would be beneficial, you know, I love helping people and if this is what’s necessary then I’m willing- it’s all strictly professional and Bucky knows-”

“Bucky consented to this?!”

“Mr Barnes did,” Vision spoke, moving to console Wanda with a hand on her back as she began to seethe, “His signature was activated within the database in regards to this contract. It’s all real.” 

“Y/N, something isn’t right here,” Wanda’s fists were clenching, her chest stuttering as she stared at you- worry ever-prevalent within her eyes as she watched you, “Bucky would never agree to something like that, I mean- do you remember when you were taken on that mission in monaco? You were gone for three days and the entire time he was inconsolable; stopping at nothing to get you back. There’s no way that same man would agree to something like this for you.” 

You could only stare back at her, your lips twisting and stomach clenching as you smiled uneasily, “Well, it’s all been agreed to now. No going back.”

“Okay, well promise me you’ll be careful? God knows the type of people Tony hired for this place.” 

You laughed, smiling and nodding at Wanda as you vowed to take care, “Wait- one last thing,” Wanda stopped at the door, the ends of her cardigan twirling as she turned to face you, “I have a dinner set tomorrow night- help me pick an outfit?”

-

The following day passed all too quickly- the picture had taken the internet by storm; thousands of trending posts, tags and conversations were now revolving around you. People were obsessed at the slightest semblance of a stereotypical romance; the slightest touch, the loving glances, the feeling of believing like you’re the only people to exist in a room. It was funny, really, the fact that what these people wished to be true was just present within the form of a different man. You hadn’t heard from Bucky since his departure, since the release of the picture- it was no different to a usual mission, he would be occupied and undercover, unable to respond to anyone’s messages let alone your own. Though, the feeling still stung- you craved for something- anger, resentment even the slightest show of concern. It almost seemed like he didn’t care.

You thought over this as you sat perched on your bed, watching as Wanda practically tore through your bedroom, waiting to be bustled into the bathroom once again with a handful of clothes. 

“I know it’s not real- but if you have hundreds of cameras on you, you need to at least look your best. We can’t have you prancing around anyone’s feed not looking your best.” She threw yet another dress onto the floor behind her, “You never know, Bucky might even see a picture and realise what he’s missing out on.” 

You snorted, “Sure, Mhm- he’ll definitely be taking time out of his highly confidential mission to send me a message about a picture of me on social media- something that happens every single day.” 

You were wrong, so wrong. 

You had been sitting, legs poised and a smile prominent on your face- the ideal image of a romantic dinner date present to the cameras flashing outside. Your chin had been placed on your palm- the image of a doting date listening intently to the fascinating words of the man before them; when your phone began to buzz incessantly. 

“I’m so sorry John,” he waved you off, giving you permission to escape to the bathroom to check your phone. Your departure had been strategic: an innocent smile, a flick of the hair and a beeline straight to the bathroom. You had no doubt that the cameras had captured each moment perfectly- ready to coin the escape up to a different, highly-dramatic story. Your heart stuttered as you looked down at the phone screen upon entering the safety of the bathroom stall, “Buck” glared back at you- the ringing continued almost as soon as it had stopped. As if he was clicking the button over and over again, waiting for you to answer. Swearing, you moved to click the accept button- fear causing your legs to shake and teeth to chatter as you wondered why he was calling so obsessively- had something gone wrong on the mission? However, just as you were about to hit accept, a bustle of girls entered the bathroom- each one talking excitedly about how they had seen your date, witnessed the new budding relationship for themselves. 

Your finger instead took a different route, moving to decline the call. Bucky’s calls stopped, obviously halted by the confirmation that you were unable to speak through the tune of the calls rejection. The silence allowed you to turn to your voicemails- selecting one of many that Bucky had sent you since his tirade of calls began. 

“Please Doll, I am begging you, please pick up. I’m sitting here in some dead-end bar and suddenly I’m seeing your face on the TV with some… military hunk, what is going on? Darling, seriously, are you okay? I can come home immediately and we can talk this over please just pick up and tell me-” 

“It’s me again, Doll, what did I do? Did I do something to upset you? I’m so so sorry that I left so abruptly I just didn’t want to wake you- I’ll be back within the next two days, please just tell me what’s going on. The last time I saw you, you were completely fine. Please just answer me.”

Lowering the phone, you stared blankly at the door of the cubicle before you; the endless chatter of the girls beginning to die down as they exited the bathroom. Why did Bucky sound so confused? Rubbing at your forehead, you scrunched your hands over your face- entirely confused as to what was going on. Bucky had willingly signed you away to hang off of the arm of John- he did not get to fuss and act confused now that it was actually happening. He had scanned that fingerprint and signed off your fate. 

With a wave of rage rushing your way, tongue in cheek, you tapped over to the messenger app before selecting Bucky’s contact. 

You: This is entirely your own doing. You turned off the phone before a reply could be received, shoving it to the bottom of your handbag and straightening out your clothes, before returning to your date and the ever watchful eyes of the public. John grinned at you as you returned, raising his drink as you sat back in your seat. 

“I say we keep this going for another twenty minutes or so,” He spoke in a low tone, his finger trailing a drop of condensation running the length of his glass, “I’m assuming that was your man blowing up the phone, my girl is doing the same to me.” Smiling shallowly, you nodded- the fact that the only relative similarity between the two of you was the fact that neither of you wanted to be there was laughable- the background behind Sophia’s opinion that the two of you would be the perfect match was entirely a mystery. 

“Well, we at least need to give them something to obsess over as we leave.” You smirked, masking it with a sip from your own glass- the volume of flashes had increased significantly since your return from the bathroom. 

“Like?”

“Just follow my lead.”

Upon your joint departure, you took John’s hand in your own; your grip loose in respect for him but clasped enough to seem genuine. You plastered on a grin, seemingly mid-laugh as you were escorted from the restaurant and into the barrage of cameras- the flashing immediately increased in your appearance; a cacophony of shouts and questions immediately sounding behind them. The signature camera for a popular news network sat only a few paces from you; you wondered if this moment would be aired directly to the television Bucky had been watching only minutes ago. Just as you were about to climb into your respective car, you turned and planted a chaste but firm kiss to John’s cheek; causing the crowd to practically go wild- frantic and erratic with the physical confirmation of the public relationship of an Avenger. 

As the car door closed, your smile dropped instantly; the facade wearing away instantly in the solitude of blackout windows. Sighing, you turned to Sophia who sat waiting in the seat ahead of you; practically grinning from ear-to-ear. 

“I mean, I knew this was going to be a success- but this is insane.” Her phone lay active in her hand, as if she’d been dealing with a constant influx of phone calls, just as you had. “You should congratulate yourself, Y/N, you are amazing.”

“I guess being in an actual relationship helps, knowing what to do and all,” you glared at her in the central mirror, kicking off your heels and rubbing at the ridiculous lipstick you wore, “Which has been pretty much tarnished due to this little project of yours, thanks a lot.” 

Sophia shrugged, continuing to smile owlishly at you; frenzied excitement in her eyes, “Well- I was actually thinking that we could continue-”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Why- are you serious? Let alone my own relationship, John is in one too. This needs to end, you’ve got your ratings and you’ve got your money, that was the whole purpose of this.”

Sophia could only grit her teeth, opting to stew in silence at your rejection; her greed prevalent in her lack of response. Just as the car drew close to the entrance of the compound, Sophia gasped; the sound sudden and jolting. 

“What?” You snapped upon composing yourself, watching as she turned her phone screen towards you. A newly posted news article was displayed before you. 

A Love Triangle Arises? 

Onlookers from Mexico report the LIVE reaction of James Barnes, formally the infamous Winter Soldier, regarding the situation with Y/N L/N’s new relationship. Attached is Barnes’ live reaction as he is seen to destroy a television, stated to have displayed our latest obsession- the kiss shared between Y/N and her new love, John Walker. Insiders to the Avengers have previously corroborated rumours detailing a supposed relationship between Barnes and L/N- though with recent news, we thought that it was entirely untrue. Is there some unspoken tension left behind between Y/N and James? Which couple do you prefer? 

“Show me the video of me and John.” You ordered, watching as Sophia frantically switched tabs and pulled up the video. Despite only kissing John on the cheek, the video had been tailored to be from an angle that suggested otherwise; the car door disguising the two of you as your movement suggested that a kiss had been shared. “No, no, no.” You chanted, clicking back over to the article regarding Bucky and selecting the attached video. The video was blurry, possibly filmed by the bartender as they cowered behind the bar, watching as Bucky tore the screen from its hinges and tore it apart with his metal arm- his face red with anguish and eyes watery with distress. 

“What is going on Sophia?” You turned to her as she began to exit the car, pausing in place, “You said that he agreed to all of this- why- why is he blowing up my phone and seeming so distressed about it all? I don’t understand.” Sophia gave no reply, instead disappearing into the late night darkness of the tower despite your calls. Before you could make chase, Steve entered the garage- a concerned crease to his brow, a hand instantly met your shoulder as he reached you. 

“Y/N are you okay?” He stared down at you, his gaze urgent but sincere, “I’ve had Buck blowing up my phone all night and then I’ve seen all of these news articles- What is going on?” 

The comforting timbre to his voice made you crack, collapsing into his arms instantly as you sobbed- the tirade of emotions you had felt over the previous days finally reaching a head as you were faced with the sincerity of Captain America. His arms wrapped around you protectively as you shook into his arms, blubbering and sobbing about the whole situation. How it had gone too far, how you didn’t know what to do, how you wanted to make it stop. 

“Y/N, I think Wanda was right,” Steve nodded, rubbing your back and turning to lead you into a more comfortable space, “Something about this doesn’t seem right, I mean, I can’t even exaggerate when I say that Bucky’s been blowing up my phone all night- he was crying his heart out Y/N, begging me to find out what is going on with you. I’ve not heard him like that since Monaco.” 

“Then … why was his signature in the contract- he allowed all of this.”

“I can’t say exactly what’s happened but, I don’t think he was as willing as it seems.”

“His signature was there, Steve. Bold and Real.”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed, stroking his chin with his hand as he stood before you, “This just isn’t Buck, Y/N. I know you’re feeling betrayed right now but I know you know this- something isn’t right.” 

Nodding, you considered the doubts that had lingered since the beginning- the questions, the worries. You trusted Bucky wholeheartedly- that aforementioned part of you that loved Bucky wholeheartedly had known that something, somewhere was amiss. “I just have to get through this charity gala,” you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your dress; a skimpy thing Wanda had picked out for you, “I signed a contract- I have to do it. Then I will speak to Bucky.”

“He’ll be back by then. Get through that and then talk to him, as soon as you can.”

-

The following days leading up to the gala were spent back in your previous reprieve- waiting, waiting, waiting for the gala; waiting for Bucky to return. Every fibre of your soul yearned for him, missed him. Craved the touch of his calloused hands and the scent that could apply only to him found at the base of his neck. You missed his private smiles and his soft eyes- the way he makes you feel when his thumb draws constellations onto the blush of your cheeks or the nape of your neck. You missed his anger, his sadness, his happiness and his love. You missed his everything. 

No fake relationship could ever replicate that feeling. 

“Y/N, please stand still.” Sophia snapped on the night of the gala, stylists bustled around you as they fidgeted with your hair and tightened the ties of your dress. Steve had surveyed at the side of the room, his dressing being immediately before yours, smirking as his own had only taken mere minutes. 

“I wish you ladies would fuss this much over me,” Steve smirked from the side of the room, very obviously bored out of his mind and ready for the night to end already. 

“You don’t need it Captain,” one of the stylists giggled, to which you scoffed- much to Steve’s amusement. Once you were ready, and finally left to stand upright on your own, Steve led you towards the entrance of the gala- where you were due to meet John. 

“Please just talk to him, Y/N,” Steve smiled sadly as you fixed his tie, waiting for John’s arrival, “He’s going crazy- calling and texting me constantly. An old man like me can’t deal with all this.” 

You laughed at that, slapping Steve on the chest as he was ever-endearing, “I will, don’t worry,” your expression turned sombre as you turned to survey the growing crowd, wondering if Bucky had arrived yet. As you scanned the crowd, John entered your eye line; the usual smirk plastered on his face complimented by a deep blue suit; matching your gown perfectly. But, he wasn’t Bucky. He would never be Bucky. You had to keep this facade up for just a few more hours before you could collapse into Bucky’s arms, resolve everything, go back to how things had been before his departure. Before pen graced paper and your signatures came into existence on that ridiculous contract. 

Offering you an arm, John led you towards the main hall; it felt like all eyes turned to you when you entered- the fresh, new, heartthrob ‘couple’. Mere acquaintances of the Avengers attempted to snidely snap a photo of the two of you and others, with a tad more respect to their name, simply eyed the two of you; humming to each other about how the tabloids had been correct. You spotted Wanda and Vision through the swarms of onlookers before you, dragging John by the arm towards them. 

Wanda squealed at the sight of you, her face scrunching and copper curls bobbing in excitement, “You look beautiful, oh Vision doesn’t she look beautiful!”

“Thank you, you look beautiful too Wanda,” You beckoned her into a hug, squeezing your closest friend tight as the two of you rocked together, “Last night of this mess.” You whispered, snickering gleefully. 

Wanda pulled back, looking left and right before speaking, “Have you seen him?”

Shaking your head no, you gave her a sad smile, “Have you?”

“No. But … I have seen Sam, who was on the mission with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sulking in a corner somewhere around here.” 

Vision piped up from beside Wanda, “That is correct, Mr Barnes was spotted on security cameras just seconds ago. I can direct you to his whereabouts?”

“No, no,” You waved your hands in the air frantically, shaking your head to the same tune, “I need to finish this off first,” You gestured to John, who had been lingering on the sidelines throughout the conversation, “Put this whole thing out of its misery.” 

John stepped forward then, curling a hand around your shoulder- as careless and loose as ever, “I was hoping we could finish this off soon actually, promised the Mrs I’d be home within the hour,” He stepped back and offered you a hand, “Care for a quick dance?”

Shrugging, you accepted his hand; for once grinning at him sincerely. This dance would finally mark the end of your wretched assignment, “One dance won’t hurt anyone.”

The two of you laughed as he twirled you around the dance floor- so overjoyed at the semblance of freedom from each other; soon to no longer be tied down by the ropes and binds of your arrangement. A particular spin left you winded; clutching your chest and snorting out a laugh as you recovered. 

And that’s when your eyes landed on him. 

Bucky stood leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of something dark, something heavy. A drink that could infiltrate even the speed of his super soldier blood. His stubble was prominent and the dark bruises marring his eyes only accentuated that. Clenched fists could be seen exiting the sleeves of his black suit- simple, sleek, neat. Obscenely attractive. Steve stood beside him, probably attempting to keep up a somewhat coherent conversation, distracting him from what he was looking at. 

You realised that his gaze had not once left you. His eyes were dark, heady, angry- his irises almost black with the obvious rage that existed within him at the sight of you with John. Grip harsh, jaw tight, breaths leaving his chest shuffled and hitched. He was furious. 

The second realisation that you came to, was that something was seriously wrong. 

“Y/N, Y/N? Are you okay?” John questioned beside you, stealing your gaze away from Bucky’s- his gaze seeming genuinely concerned at your sudden shift in demeanour. 

“I- Um-” You stuttered, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you gripped his shoulders urgently, the pulse hammering in your throat like a sounding siren, “We need to end this now John, you can go. Please go.” The urgency in your eyes seemingly sent the message well enough; the threat of the former Winter Soldier all too present within his mind. Watching John’s hasty retreat, you prepared yourself to turn- to make eye contact with Bucky again. To see those dark, hooded eyes. To force yourself not to run straight into his arms. 

Not appropriate right now. 

Slowly, you turned your head- making direct eye contact with Bucky once again. His eyes were downturned- insistent, obsessive, begging you to provide him with some clarity. He stood stoically in place as you advanced towards him, staring determinedly at your figure and only offering Steve a grunt as he granted him a goodbye, giving up on the one-sided conversation and nodding to you as he departed, his eyes saying ‘good luck’. Keeping your chin high, you stopped beside Bucky- ordering yourself a drink at the bar and simply turning to stare at him once you were done. He stared forward resolutely, though the constant flare of his nostrils gave him away entirely. 

Upon the arrival of your drink, you drank a considerable amount before turning to him, liquid courage and all, “What the hell is goin’ on Buck?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Doll,” Bucky ground his teeth, the ministrations dancing within his jaw as he still refused to meet your gaze, “I go away on a mission and the next thing I know I’m seeing you gallivanting around New York on the arm of another man.” He took a long drought from his glass, finishing the drink and slamming it down onto the counter behind him, “Nobody will tell me what is happening and now one moment I’m watching you have the time of your life on the dancefloor and the next you come to me once your little boy-toy has scurried away.” 

“Bucky. Seriously? You signed the contract to allow-”

“See, this is what everyone is telling me,” Bucky turned to face you then, his mouth curling downwards and his eyes filled with anguish, “But no one is able to tell me what it is exactly that I signed- when did I sign on to this Y/N?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Your tone heavy with the weight of anger and betrayal as you spat the words, Bucky’s mask of anger faltering slightly as he heard your voice, “Your signature was there- bold and animated- on that contract, Bucky.” You shook your head, mouth drooping as you spoke, sadness now present within your features, “You signed me away Bucky, you did this to me.” 

“Please, Doll.” Bucky was begging now, his eyes curved and teary as he clasped your shoulders, “Please tell me what you are talking because I seriously have no idea.” 

“How-” You suddenly realised that a number of inquisitive eyes had turned towards the two of you, Bucky’s hands on your shoulders- your own in mid-air reaching towards his. “We can’t do this here Buck.” At that, you dragged him from the room; the two of you entered the hallway in silence before making a number of twists and turns- ensuring shelter from the public’s ever watchful eyes. “How do you not know Buck- like I said your signature was there.” Your voice was quieter, calmer, more meagre now as you practically pleaded with the man before you. 

He was pleading right back, his metal hand moving to cup your cheek- the warmth of its plates familiar and a comforting presence. “Okay, Doll- let’s start from the beginning, untangle all of this mess. I signed a contact last week which would agree that we’d be seen together at the gala. You know, I- I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to go public with you and I was told that it wouldn’t be much, just a dance and a few photo opportunities. I don’t- I understand if that upset you, I’m sorry if I was too eager and I … completely understand why you’ve decided to do this I just, I wish you could’ve done it to my face? Why did you leave me to find out like-” 

Bucky’s speech was stopped by your instant attack as you pressed your lips to his, your hands gripping his stubbled cheeks like a lifeline as you pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth, attempting to drown in his taste as you sobbed against him, “I’m so sorry.” You chanted continuously as you kissed, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, “This isn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong, Buck.” Your words were halted by erratic sobs as your scenario finally reached a state of clarity, he reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks instantly; the pads of his fingers picking up the broken shards and piecing them back together perfectly, back where they belonged. 

“I don’t under-”

“No, no Bucky. It’s okay.” You pulled away from him, shaking your head and breathing, grinning at him widely, “I- god this is ridiculous, I swear I am going to destroy her. I- well, PR told me that you had signed a contract agreeing for me to engage in a fake public relationship, I mean I saw your signature and instantly assumed the worst of you, I am so sorry Bucky- and I just went along with it because I trust you and what you said in the kitchen only supported that. But then everything happened and I was just so so confused about it all and you weren’t here and I just wanted to see you again-” 

Bucky halted your tirade then, placing his own mouth against yours as you resumed your previous feverish kissing; clinging onto him as he intertwined his fingers into the long curls of your hair, the straps of your dress, the span of your hips. Eventually, he pulled back, wholly gripping his face in yours as his toothy grin glistened down at you- his face the perfect display of relief and adoration. “It’s okay,” he smiled, nodding as his eyes remained teary, your own face a mirror image of his, “We’re going to be okay.” He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you and shushing you tentatively as you continued to cry into the comfort of his chest. “Let’s get you into bed and out of this gorgeous dress, yeah?” He mumbled, toying with the straps of your dress as he stared adoringly down at you, “I’ve not had my Doll-time in forever.” 

Giggling, you slapped him on the chest, clasping his offered hand and allowing him to lead you down the hallway- towards the comfort of tousled sheets and intertwined legs; secret touches in the darkness of night and the relief that would settle between you as the string was no longer pulled taut.

Part 2- ‘Public Display’ 

[vigilante-3073]

Apology Flowers

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky buys you flowers.

TW: Fluff, nervous Bucky, pre-established relationship, lovesick Bucky.

Bucky stood in front of the flower stand, bright blue eyes running over all the colorful options. He knew that every flower had meaning, but seeing the sheer variety had him lost.

"Can I help you find something, Sir?" The elderly salesperson asked.

Bucky sighed, "Yeah, I could definitely use some help. I'm looking to buy flowers for my girl, but I'm feeling a little lost," He confessed with a small smile.

"Well, what's her favorite color, dear?" The woman asked.

"She really likes pink," Bucky said.

"Then we have a place to start. Is there a special occasion at all?" She asked.

"No, not really. I had to go out of town for a few days on short notice and didn't get to say goodbye before I left," Bucky said.

It wasn't necessarily a lie, he did have to leave town on short notice. The poor woman didn't need to know that he had been traveling the world with Sam Wilson to stop a terrorist group.

"That's very sweet, there's not many men like you around anymore," She mused, scanning the options.

"Don't I know it," Bucky muttered.

"Ah," She said suddenly, locating what she had been looking for.

The woman gathered multiple pink and white flowers together, tilting the top of the assorted bouquet towards Bucky.

"How's that, dear?" She asked, Bucky smiled.

"It's perfect," He said.

....

Bucky made his way down the hallway towards the small apartment that he shared with Y/N.

He took a deep breath as he tucked a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys.

She would be pissed and he knew that he deserved it. Bucky had practically disappeared, no calls or texts to explain anything.

He had only sent one: 'With Sam. Be home soon'

Then his phone died. And that was a few days ago.

Bucky slid his key into the lock before opening the door and stepping into the apartment.

"Doll, you home?" He called.

Y/N appeared around the corner quickly, rushing over to meet him.

"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick," She said, pressing herself against his chest as she hugged him tightly.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the bouquet.

He felt like he could finally relax for the first time in days. Bucky hadn't realized how much he missed her until she was in his arms again.

"I'm so sorry, doll. Sam and I got caught up in something big and I couldn't just leave him," Bucky said.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the bruises and cuts littering his skin. He had hoped they would heal more before seeing her again.

"I'm gonna kill him," Y/N muttered.

"I'm okay," Bucky assured, thumb brushing across her hip gently.

Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, "Bucky, what happened? Why didn't you call me?" She asked.

"My phone died," Bucky stated.

She huffed, "You are so lucky that I love you as much as I do," Y/N said.

"I brought you flowers... I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I'm really sorry" He said, holding the bouquet up for her to see.

She took the bundle from his hand, smiling softly as she sniffed the petals, "Thank you, Bucky," Y/N said.

She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Bucky leaned forward, chasing her lips as she pulled away. He slid his arms around her waist, "Kiss me like you missed me?" He asked.

Y/N's smile widened, hand resting on the side of his neck with her thumb resting along the curve of his jaw as she brought his lips to her's.

Bucky moved his lips against her's, his hands sliding under the material of her t-shirt to rest against her bare skin.

Bucky thanked his lucky stars for whatever he had done right in his life to deserve someone as amazing as her.

He hoped that the small velvet ring box hidden away in the back of his drawer would show just how much he loved her, but that's a story for another time.

Y/N pulled away, "I need to put these flowers in some water. Why don't you hop in the shower and I will meet you there?" She proposed.

"I love you so damn much," He mumbled.

"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind," She smiled.

Bucky pressed another quick kiss to her lips before he released her, making his way down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom.

Bucky Barnes loved his woman.

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

HOPE U LOVED IT!!!! :-) CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR OTHER SNEAKIES AND BLURBS

[bruisedboys]

can I request remus and anxious!reader where he asks her to be his, but she is worried that remus will think that she is too much to take care of?

thank you for your request angel!! this was fun to write <3

remus lupin x fem!anxious!reader, 1.3k words

Remus turns up unannounced at your door with a huge bouquet of flowers. You think you know where this is going.

“Hey,” he says, smiling a brilliant smile that sets your heart aflame. “You look nice. Can I come in?”

You don’t look nice, at least not in your opinion. You’re in your pyjamas, a loose tank and a pair of flannel pants, fresh out of the shower with your damp hair hanging limp over your shoulders. But you can’t not let him in. You like him too much.

“Uh— sure. Yeah, come in. Sorry about the mess.” You kick a stray shoe to the side to prevent him tripping in your doorway, embarrassed.

“Don’t start,” he tells you, fondly exasperated as he toes off his shoes. He closes the door behind him and then turns back to you, holding the bouquet out. “These are for you, by the way.”

You’d guessed. Still, you’re very very happy to get them. He’s given you flowers before, ones he’s picked on the way to your place or a rose, once, on your last birthday, but never a bouquet. You take it from him, fingers brushing his at the stalks.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You can’t imagine how much they cost him. It’s the fullest bouquet you’ve ever seen, petals bursting out of the tissue paper in pretty pinks and whites and creams. You don’t try to fight the smile working it’s way onto your lips. “They’re really pretty.”

Remus grins and raises one shoulder in a shrug. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

“Remus,” you whine, heat building in your cheeks at an alarming rate.

Remus laughs, surprised. “What?”

You glare, fierce as you can when you’re so infatuated with him. He’s making this hard for you and he knows it. “Nothing. Come on, come through, I’ll find a vase.”

You lead the way through your entryway and into the kitchen. Remus sits at your kitchen island and watches while you find a vase for your flowers and fill it with water from the tap. You feel his gaze like laser beams and try not to think about how much skin your pyjama top is showing right now, how much you don’t actually care because you want him to look at you.

“Stop looking at me,” you say anyway, though you know he won’t listen.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Typical.

“You’re awful.”

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

You sigh and finish setting up your flowers, setting them on the kitchen island. Remus smiles at you like a fool when you meet his eyes.

“Do you want a drink?” You ask, desperate to do something other than be under his gaze.

“No. I want to ask you something.”

Your heart stutters. This could go a million ways and you’re not sure which way you’d prefer. You sit down across from him and try not to fall right off your chair.

“Okay,” you say quietly, playing with your hands, pulling at your fingers. “Ask away, then.”

Remus doesn’t say anything right away. He slides his hands across the counter and pushes them over yours, stopping your mindless fiddling. You let him take your hands in his. They’re warm, rough but soft in the places that count. His fingers thread through yours and your heart does a backflip.

“Look at me?” He asks, voice soft as silk. You’re glad he’s stopped joking around but somehow his sweet patience is worse.

You look up, meeting his eyes. Remus beams.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

You huff a laugh through your nose. “Hi,” you say back.

Remus strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “Look, I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” he says, words measured as if he’s being careful to not worry you. You both despise and adore how patient he is with you. “I want to ask you something, and if you don’t like it, please feel free to kick me out of your house. Okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, wondering if the hammering of your heart is for a good reason or a bad. “I’m not gonna kick you out of my house, Remus.”

“You might.”

You shake your head firmly. “I won’t.”

Remus takes a deep breath, and you watch his chest rise and fall.

“I really like you,” he says. “And as much as I enjoy being friends, I think I’d like to be more.”

You blink. You can barely open your mouth, feeling like your lips have been glued shut. “More?” You manage.

Remus nods. “Yeah.”

You don’t know why but you suddenly feel like crying. You’re not oblivious, you’d known Remus liked you at least a little bit more than just a friend. You’ve gone over this moment countless times in your head, content with it happening in your head but never in real life. You’re a fish out of water. You swallow.

“Remus,” you say, trying not to sound like you’re rejecting him. “I … I don’t know.”

Remus blinks.

“Not— I mean, it’s not because of you,” you say in a desperate rush. You untangle your hands from his and wrap your fingers around his wrists instead. “I like you, Remus. You know I do. It’s just— I don’t think you’d … I’m a lot of work,” you finish dejectedly.

Remus gives you a looks like a kicked puppy. “What? Y/N, that doesn’t—“

“No, listen, Remus,” you say, desperate for him to understand. “I’m not— I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend. You already do so much for me, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do more.” Remus knows about your anxiety. It’s one of the reasons you like him so much, because he knows and doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t treat you any differently for it. Still, “You’d get tired of me.”

Remus genuinely looks like he might cry. He releases your hands and gets up, and for one terrifying second you think he’s leaving you, that he’s already sick of you and your worries, that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. But he only rounds the kitchen island and gets so close to you you can smell his cologne.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asks in a soft murmur. “Please?”

You nod. Remus only hesitates for a half a second before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your head to his stomach, a hand in your damp hair. He’s warm and firm, tall, all-encompassing. He’s hugged you before but never like this. Never like he wants to hold all the pieces of you together in case you fall apart. You might just.

You weasel your arms around his tummy and try not to squeeze too hard. Remus strokes the back of your head, once, twice, three times. He doesn’t seem to mind your wet hair, the dampness slowly soaking into his soft t-shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently. “I want you to know that none of that matters to me. Only you matter. I don’t care if I have to look after you, I wouldn’t care if I had to carry you around like a log everywhere we went. I want to look after you.”

You squeeze him harder.

“I don’t want to burden you,” you say into his t-shirt.

Remus makes a sad noise and pulls back, hands climbing to your neck. He encourages your face from his stomach gently, fingers pushing your hair out of the way so he can cup your jaw.

“You won’t be a burden,” he says. “You’re not. I like you just the way you are. I could never get tired of you, honey. Every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again.”

There’s a pause in which you look at each other, a lot of big, beautiful feelings in the way you study each other’s faces. Your heart pounds in your chest. You know your decision has already been made, was probably made the second he appeared at your door, maybe the moment you met him however long ago. He’s lovely, the best person you’ve ever met. You like him enough to put aside your worries and be with him, if that’s what he wants.

And it is what he wants. Suddenly you feel so happy you could burst.

“Okay,” you say hoarsely, emotion thick in your throat. You nod, not caring how desperate you look. “Yes.”

Remus’ answering smile is bruising. “Yeah?” He says, pleased and almost as giddy as you. His eyes light up like stars and you know you could’ve never said no to him. “You’ll be mine? Let me look after you for ever and ever?”

A giggle bubbles out of you before you can stop it. You beam up at him. “Only if you let me look after you, too.”

Remus thumbs the hollow under your eye slowly, his touch like fireworks along your skin, leaning close like he’s gonna kiss you. You’re surprised to realise you really, really want him to.

“I think that can be arranged.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[lokisgoodgirl]

Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

Tags

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[httpwintersoldier]

『 lady marmelade. || buggy x reader 』

[PART 2 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - BUGGY VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: buggy x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your occupation lead you to meet your new boss... who'd perhaps become more than that. angst; smut; fluff.

Doing Burlesque was not what you had initially seen yourself doing professionally, but in a weird turn of events, the doors had opened and you walked right through them. Or rather... the curtains.

You initially intended to study the sea and its mysteries, but it wasn't exactly a job that paid well from the get-go, so you began working at a bar. Just to get yourself started, you said.

Then a man noticed you... He was tall and well built, a little meat on his bones but definitely intimidating. Hair as white as snow and a full beard with a nicely kept moustache. The man couldn't help but compliment you: your beautiful smile, your beautiful body, your bright personality... You were perfect, he said.

He approached you, initially asking you how much you made. You found it insulting! That was, until he said he'd triple it if you joined his show. The man was sure you'd be a hit, and he was right.

At first you thought he was inviting you to be a stripper, but as you learned the art of burlesque, you realized it was nothing of the sort - and you loved it. The attention, the compliments, the lights and cheers, the beautifully decorated attires, the attention to detail... But most of all, you adored the freedom it gave you to study the sea.

The pay was amazing, and it allowed you to have enough time and money to invest in your hobby - the sea.

"We got a... uh... how to describe the situation..." the stage coordinator said as he tapped his chin, looking for the correct words "We got a different crowd."

You were applying the finishing touches to your attire, but stopped, furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the man as you heard his choice of words, as well as the ruckus behind the curtain.

You stood up and walked to the edge of the curtain, tugging on it slightly, so only one of your eyes peeked out to look at the audience. You gasped in horror and stepped furiously towards the stage manager.

"Since when do we allow pirates on our cabaret!?" You whisper-yelled at the man.

The heels made you taller than him, and the way you were staring him down sent a shiver down his spine. The man was gripping his board with the show instructions as he struggled to give you a response.

"I guess we do when- when they pay well we do..."

You weren't prissy, much less were you an elitist, but pirates... they disgusted you. When you began working at the cabaret the owner allowed pirates in. Those nights were treacherous, to say the very least. The harassment, bottle throwing and disrespect for the art rose through the roof on those nights, so pirates and their crews were banned effectively from watching the shows. Except the ones whose pockets were deep, apparently.

You slumped back on your chair and held the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger as you sighed.

"Tell me I'm the first one, please, tell me I get to get this over with and fuck off home."

The stage manager scoffed.

"I don't know what would overcome the Boss to somehow put you first... You're the last one." The man informed.

He had the habit of doing this. You were his golden goose, the cherry at the top, as he liked to say, so you were always last, because everyone stayed to watch you.

That was the only time where being the favourite sucked.

"Babygirl, you're first, you're on in 40 seconds." The man said, and your colleague applied some powder hurriedly and walked to the big red curtains.

You watched as she stepped out to her signature intro song with a fake smile that hid how fucking terrified she was of the pirates.

Usually sets came and went as quickly as a snap of the fingers, but this one time, the one time you were curious to hear about, seemed to drag on for ever and ever.

"Thank y'all for tonight, you were lovely!"

As soon as you heard those words and saw the curtains move, you stood up.

"Evelyn, 60 seconds 'till you're on!" the stage manager called to your next colleague as you walked towards Babygirl, held her hands and looked her in the eye.

"So? How were they!?" You asked, barely even letting her catch her breath.

"You know what? Not that bad..." She said, sounding surprised by her own statement "I get the feeling they were just kicked out of every bar in town and came here to drink. They were excited and there was quite a lot of ruckus and cheering but I think the main focus were the drinks... There was this clown dude in the back that seemed very desinterested though." Your colleague explained, as you both walked to her vanity and she began taking off all of the paraphernelia that decorated her.

You furrowed your brows. That was surprising... But it made sense, somehow. They might've been behaving just for the sake of not being thrown out again and running out of alcohol for the night.

Your colleague looked at you up and down.

"You're going with Cherry Pie today?" She asked.

You kept a couple personas in your pocket, to keep it interesting. You liked to call it "The Burlesque Sisters", except each one of them was played by you. It kept people interested and coming back for more, wanting to get a peek at each sister.

You looked down at your attire: it was a red corset with wine-coloured felt details and a heart-shaped neckline. You wore a miniskirt that was not at all intricate, as it came off in the very beginning of the set, long black gloves with red feathery apliques on the hem, black stockings, and a pair of beautiful red platmform heels with guilded details. Your makeup matched the get up perfectly: a bold red lip with a dark red liner, gold sparkles decorating your face, as well as gold eyeshadow on your waterline, and a killer cat-like black winged liner. You were always keen on having your hair up, as you felt it was the perfect hairdo to keep eyes focused on your body and on your movements.

Cherry Pie was a fan favourite, no doubt. So you were a little reluctanct on bringing her out, afraid that the pirates would keep coming back for her (cocky of you, you were aware), but it was too late to change.

It wasn't long before you heard Evelyn's typical goodbye quote. She came in strutting in the room, hapilly removing several bills from various parts of her attire.

"Good tippers!" She said with a smile.

"Cherry Pie! You're on in two minutes!" The stage director called.

Whoever went next to Evelyn got a little more time before going in, as the staff needed to clean up her glitter sprayed across the floor.

"So? How was it?" You asked, raising your brows.

"Oh, it was great! They weren't exactly respectful but they tipped really well and they were very engaged! Except for this clown dude at the back, but I didn't bother much with him." Evelyn said with a shrug as she took off her earrings.

You stood up with a pensive face and straighened your outfit, suddenly becoming curious about this clown guy that seemed to be uninterested by women in very little clothing dancing in front of him. You walked to the curtains, waiting for the stage manager to give you your cue.

When you heard the first beats of your intro song you strutted in, one foot in front of the other, hands on your waist and a big, flirty smile. You winked at the crowd as the big stage lights lit you up.

You lifted your arms up as if to say "I'm here!" and popped out your hip.

"Welcome, to the Cherry Pie show!" You said, earning a bunch of cheers, and then hit the Beety Boop pose, placing your hands on your knees and popping out your ass as you winked.

The clown your colleagues had mentioned wasn't hard to spot: this wasn't a simple crowd, for sure, but he was definitely the one that stood out the most. In a good way... you'd argue.

However, as you introduced yourself, you could see him look up: his head lifted from the fist that it previously rested on and his eyes sparkled. You couldn't relate to the desinterest the others had reported, and you wondered if you had particularly piqued his interest - or if he was just tired of the position he was in and decided to switch (although the glint in his eye said your initial theory was correct).

You carried on with the performance, keeping a special eye out for the pirate clown.

You slowly undid your corset, opening it to reveal a tighter, smaller corset, flashing the crowd with an expression that said "oopsie!". There were some groans and there were some laughs at the trick. You discarded the corset you had taken off and went around the room collecting bills, as you danced suggestively and lip synced to your song.

As you walked closer to the clown you bit your glove and slid it off, revealing your long, red press on nails. You repeated the process on the other glove and discarded them, earning a few whistles. You could feel the clown's gaze on you, almost as if it burned.

And so, you decided to tease him: you dragged your nail along his jaw. The clown somewhat leaned into your touch, and although the music was loud, you could swear you heard him groan.

You continued you act and, in no time, your songs came to an end and it was time to say goodbye to your surprisingly pleasant guests.

"Y'all have been a lovely crowd! I've been Cherry Pie, Cherry Kisses!" You yelled, touching your ass with one heel as you blew them a kiss.

There was standing up, whistling, cheers, and a couple noises from displeased people, sad that the show was over. One thing was for sure, the clown guy had a hunger for you - and he wouldn't let you go so easily.

As you disappeared behind the curtains, the man stood up, making his way to the back.

"Sir you can't come in-" The bouncer began, but instantly shut up when Buggy flashed him a wad of Berry. Any ammount of money was worth being sacrified if it meant it was used to see you.

Evelyn and Babygirl had gone home already, so when you heard footsteps you assumed it was your bodyguard ready to escort you home.

"Hey Dante I'm not ready yet, give me 5 just to take off the makeup and put on some clothes!" You said, not looking behind you as you worked on getting the glitter off.

"I think you look marvellous just like that."

When you didn't recognize the voice, you were startled and stood up, looking at the man that had spoken, to find the clown guy leaning against the door frame.

You couldn't not remember who he was...

"What are you- How did you get here?" You asked, pointing at him and squinting your eyes.

"Honey, I've got plenty Berry, and I don't mind spending it on you." He said, arms stretched out as he stepped towards you.

You raised your brow and crossed your arms in front of your chest as you analyzed him from head to toe.

"This isn't a strip club, you can't pay for a room with me or whatever. And it's Cherry, not Honey." You said, attitude dripping from your voice.

"Yes, unfortunately it isn't a strip club, but I'm not here for that. I want to offer you a spot. On my crew, on my show." The man offered with that familiar glint in his eye.

"Why, pray tell, would I want to go be a pirate? The pay here is amazing, I love my job and I am comfortable." You asked.

The clown admired how unafraid you were of him. People usually kept their distance, ran away, stuttered near him... But there you were, facing him and challenging him. He absolutely had to have you.

The Captain was desperately looking for reasons to give you, until his eyes landed on a book you had on your vanity. You liked to entertain yourself and read on breaks from shows and happened to leave them on your vanity.

"A book about marine life?" The man asked, pointing at the book "Honey, why read about it, when you can see it. Join me and you'll see all of the life you read about in those pages, up close. I'll equal what they pay you here- fuck it, I'll double it."

Now that was tempting... But you couldn't help but wonder why...

"Why do you want me so much?"

Now that was a damn good question.

"I've never seen my men this focused on something. It's good for morale and it gives them something to do other than a big mess on my ship. Plus, we kinda need a gymnast on the show and you fit the bill."

Bullshit. He just bullshit his way out of the truth - in reality he just wanted to have you close, he wanted to be able to look at you up close whenever.

"Your men? Your ship? What are you, a Captain?" You asked genuinely.

The male scoffed and took another step towards you.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

You shrugged as an answer, your face showing a definite sign of absolutely not giving a shit about the answer.

"My name is Captain Buggy, or Buggy the Clown." Buggy, as he introduced himself, detached a hand and had it fly over to you.

"Woah! You're a Devil Fruit user!" You said, amused to finally meet one, and shook the flying hand.

Although detached, your touch on him still managed to send shivers down his spine.

"So, Miss 'Cherry Pie', have we got a deal?"

You pretended to think for a bit. The answer was obviously yes (more pay and you got to be close to the sea!?), but you didn't want to seem too eager.

"I believe we do Captain Buggy."

The way you said his name made him wonder how many other ways he could make you say it... It sent another shiver down his spine, and the captain asked himself if it had been a good idea to invite you on board - Buggy didn't know how long he'd be able to keep his hands off of you.

When the owner of the Cabaret heard of your departure he nearly fainted. The man tried to negotiate but he couldn't possibly match what Buggy had offered you, so the boss reluctantly let you go and you embarked on a new journey.

The beginning was a little rocky, some of the crew members got a little touchy and Buggy had to threaten them multiple times, but after you started standing your ground and threteaning them yourself, you gained their respect.

Normally you wouldn't be so brave as to stand up to several big men experienced in fighting, but you knew the Captain had your back, and that gave you a lot of confidence.

The first time there was a show, Buggy invited you to sit back and watch, so you could learn how it all worked before being part of it, and you had to admit, seeing the man take control of everything... it was kind of hot. Those words danced in your tongue when he asked you what you thought about the show afterwards, but you decided to keep it to yourself.

"This good enough Captain?" You asked innocently, fixing your corset so your boobs stood out.

Buggy thanked his heavy makeup for concealing his blush, and the coat for hiding his growing boner as he inspected your outfit from head to toe. He wanted to say no. He wanted to cover you up with a long, large coat and send you out with it so only he could see you like that, but alas, that wasn't possible...

"Uh yeah, Y/N, you look fantastic." The Captain said, not able to look away from your chest.

You giggled and thanked him, before getting ready to step out. The tent was particularly full that day, as people gathered, curious about the new act that had been announced.

As the cheers, claps and whistles reached Buggy's ears backstage, he felt a sense of jealousy spread in his body. Oh it was a bad idea to hire you, for sure...

When the show came to an end and the guests had left, Buggy sat on his throne and counted the Berry they had made.

Suddenly, he heard steps.

"Who the fuck is here and why are you here?" The Captain asked, in a grumpy tone - he very much disliked being interrupted.

"Sorry Captain!"

As soon as he heard your voice it was like a rainbow washed over him. He hated that. He hated how you had so much control over his body, over the way he felt.

"That's okay, thought it was one of the other degenerates. What can I do for ya, sweetheart?" Buggy asked in a completely different tone from the one he had previously spoken in, pleased that you had come talk to him still in your show attire.

"Well I wanted to ask... did I do good?" You asked, biting your lip and holding your hands behind your back nervously.

Oh boy did Buggy want to grab you by the neck and push you against a wall... Seeing you in front of him, nervous and asking for his approval, all while biting your lip... You had no idea how much self control he had not to fuck you dumb.

"Sorry sugar, I couldn't watch the show tonight..." The Captain explained, a sad tone in his voice as he said it.

"Oh..." You replied, a little disappointed "Well, maybe I could give you a private show." You said with a flirty wink.

Buggy smirked and looked at you, supporting his head with his fist.

"Don't make promises you can't handle keeping, princess." Buggy said, boldly.

You chuckled and turned around.

"I can handle everything, Captain."

You could feel Buggy's eyes on you as you walked away, and chuckled lowly when you heard him curse under his breath.

The man turned, huffed and puffed in bed that night, grabbing his crotch at the thought of you, at the way you called him Captain, and at the pretty little teasing quote you'd thrown at him - but he knew that no release would be satisfying - unless you were the one giving it to him. That couldn't be. He had to find a solution.

Little did the man know, the solution would find him soon enough.

Due to his Y/N-induced sleepless night, the following day the man retreated to his living quarters before dinner, in order to get some rest.

You, who didn't know what was going on, grew concerned about the Captain. He was always grumpy, sure, but he was also constantly laughing and full of life, whereas that day he was simply... not.

You knew no one was even supposed to go near his room, let alone visit it when the Captain specified he didn't want to be disturbed. But you were one curious cat - and a worried one too.

As you stood outside of his door, you bit your lower lip, wondering if you should knock or not, but before you could decide for or against it, the Captain had already sensed a presence outside.

"Who has a death wish?" Buggy asked, referring to the person that stood outside of his room.

"T-that would be me, Captain..." You replied, nervously, confident he'd recognize your voice.

Buggy's mind was torn - he looked (and felt) like shit on one hand, but on the other, having you with him in his room all by yourselves... The bottom head thought faster, and he replied with a low "come in".

You opened the creaky door slightly and peeked inside, before walking in.

Buggy laid on the bed, his hair free of the bandana and tied in a low ponytail. He had one arm falling from the bed, and the other covering his eyes, and one leg resting on the bed as the other had his knee bent.

You blushed slightly as you realized he was just wearing his underwear and a large striped shirt.

"Woah..." You said, at the sight of his long hair.

Buggy uncovered his eyes to look at you and followed your gaze. He just chuckled, making you snap back to reality.

"Uh, Sir- Captain," You corrected "are you okay?..."

The light in the room was scarce, the only thing lighting up the space being the moonlight coming in through the hatch. Still, you could see his cocky grin.

"You worried about me, princess?"

You dared walk closer to him, in small, shy steps.

"Well, yes... You didn't seem yourself today..."

Buggy clenched his fists and held himself back with all the strenght possible and imaginary when you put one knee on his bed, making it dip slightly on your end, and placed a hand on his forehead and face.

"Captain, you feel hot!" You said, worriedly.

He was hot alright, but it wasn't a fever that left him like that.

"You know princess, you're right, I haven't been 100% lately, I have been having a little problem..." Buggy admitted, as he licked his lips.

"A p-problem? What problem?" You asked, an uneasy feeling rising within you.

Upon seeing your panicked expression he chuckled.

"A problem with you, dear."

The panic and fear increased even more, and it was visible on your face.

"Don't worry princess, you've done nothing wrong. In fact, quite the opposite... You've been doing all the right things."

You innocently cocked your head to the side.

"I'm- I'm sorry Captain, I'm not sure I'm following..."

The man grinned and groaned when the name left your lips. Such an innocent mouth, that he had imagined doing such sinful things to...

"You see, sweetheart," Buggy began, his hand lightly tracing up the thigh closest to him "you've been driving me crazy. The way you dress, the way you talk, fuck- the way you say my name."

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he imagined you moaning his name. You grew hotter and hotter at each of his words, and all you could focus on was how his hand went higher and higher on your thigh. And without noticing, in your head, you began begging for his hand to just fucking hurry it up and grab your ass.

"W-well Captain, I guess it's only right that I fix the problem, I caused it after all, hm?" You suggested bringing your other leg up to the bed and across him, so you were straddling his lap.

"Oh princess, I don't know if you wanna get into it..." His hands found the place you wanted him to find.

The man grabbed your ass with such force that you couldn't help but moan.

"I'm pretty sure that I do..." You said in a husky voice, as you felt his cock harden under you.

Before he could speak, you opened your mouth once more.

"You know, Captain," now that you knew he enjoyed it, you were going to exploit the hell out of the name "I like the way you take control of the show..." you paused once more and leaned in to whisper in his ear "How about you take control of me like that?"

It was as if your voice brought him the full 10 hours of sleep he needed. It was like energy washed over him and he felt... alive. More than ever.

The clown was quick to switch positions, straddling your waist and pinning your hands above your head, slowly riding up the top you wore. Buggy licked his lips as he stared at your exposed stomach.

"You're playing with fire, princess. Little girls that play with fire get hurt..." Buggy teased with a glint in his eye.

"Then hurt me."

His lips glued to yours instantly, in a violent, hungry kiss. Buggy didn't know it was possible for someone to drive him even crazier, but you did it. You pushed him to the very edge and he had never craved something so much in his life.

Buggy's hands were all over your body - grabbing your thighs, slapping your ass, caressing your waist... He wanted to take in every piece of you. As he touched you, the Captain slowly took off pieces of your clothes, and when you realized, you were naked under him.

You blushed slightly, tugging at the hem of his shirt so he'd understand.

"We're not speaking now, dollface?" The man asked as he removed his one piece of clothing "Cat got your tongue? Hm?"

You ran your hands down his torso and bit your lip - he was a lot more toned than he let on.

"Just... admiring the view." You said before catching his lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Buggy detached one of his hands, and you shrieked into the kiss as his cold fingers made their way inside your panties. He teased your entrance, until you tugged on his hair as if to say "hurry up, fucker".

"Don't be-" He paused, shoving two fingers into you slowly "-impatient."

You sighed deeply and moved your hips against his fingers. Buggy looked down at you move in amusement.

"You know pretty girl, we have another problem at hand..." The Captain said, tracing your face with his fingers until he reached your neck.

"W-what is it?" You asked, through half lidded eyes and in between moans.

Buggy gripped your throat, making you gasp and arch your back. He leaned closer to your ear so he could whisper.

"I don't know if I wanna fuck you like this to see your pretty little face when you cum on my cock, or shove your face in the pillow and fuck you from behind."

"A-as long as you make me cum Captain..." You said with a smirk.

You whined as he removed his fingers and licked them clean.

"Are you doubting my capabilities, princess?"

You had no time to reply, as he reattached his hand and used it to flip you around and pull your ass up in the air. You gripped the sheets, your cheek against his pillow taking in the smell of your Captain, as you watched him take his placed bbehind you.

Buggy took his sweet time palming your ass and admiring it.

When he took out his cock, you couldn't see it from the angle, but you knew it was big and girthy, because when his hard lenght smacked against your ass, you knew you were in for it.

"Fuck..." You breathed out.

Buggy chuckled.

"It's not even in yet princess, save the cursing for later..." He teased, running the tip of his cock up and down your folds until he himself couldn't hold it any longer.

The Captain wanted to slam into you and fucked the words out of your mouth, but it was your first time with him and he didn't want to risk being too rough or hurting you.

So, with furrowed eyebrows and agape mouth, he pushed into you slowly, until he bottomed. It took all of his strenght to pull out and shove his cock back in in a slow pace.

Once he found you were comfortable with the pace, he began speeding up and, when your moans became loud and you called for his name, Buggy lost all control.

The man gripped your hips like a madman and fucked you like his life depended on it.

"Oh fuck- you're such a good girl Y/N- you take me so well..." He praised as he gripped your ass and smacked it a couple times, earning a yelp from you.

"Y-you feel so good Captain!" You moaned, gripping the sheets beside your head.

One of Buggy's hand detached and found your clit, rubbing it at a consistent, fast rhythm. The man was good. You wanted to savour the moment as long as possible but for the first time you found it hard to not cum.

Maybe it was his skill, maybe it was his demeanor, and maybe it was his appearance, but the truth was that you couldn't get enough of him fucking you.

"Buggy I think- I think I'm gonna cum-" You whined, as a familiar feeeling began washing over you.

"A-Already princess?"

Buggy kept up the confident persona, but deep down he was thanking every diety in existance because he didn't know how long he could last, with you moaning for him and tightening around his cock like he had imagined so many times.

"Please... may I cum?"

"Do it!" Was all he could say.

Your legs faltered and the Captain had to hold you up as he fucked his cum into you, riding both of your orgasms out.

Small groans and whimpers filled the room as the both of you came down from your highs. Buggy hissed as he removed his soft cock from you.

The man helped you lay down on the bed and wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him as he closed his eyes.

"Hey Buggy?" You called, as you played with his hair and admired how long his lashes were.

"Hm?..." He sleepily asked.

"When you hired me, was this your intention?" You asked, biting your lip.

The man didn't open his eyes, he just chuckled.

"I can't say it was completely innocent... I wanted you close to me." Buggy explained with a smirk.

He then grabbed your ass and pulled you even closer, causing you to shriek and giggle.

"I guess you got it, Captain..."

[hitomisuzuya]

REQUEST ARE OPEN AJNSJWJSJ

Suzuu, could you write about Scaramouche who does live streams +18 and in one of these streams he decided to invite reader to appear on live with him?

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Sex toys. Fingering. Finger sucking. Praise. Degradation. This is kinda filthy.

Before Scaramouche started the live stream, he cupped your cheek and said, "Remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He knew you were nervous about appearing live with him, and you had the cutest little blush on your cheeks when he said someone special would be joining the stream.

Tonight, every thing that Scaramouche would do to you was left in the hands of the viewers. The chat instantly came alive with excitement. He picked you up bridal style and placed you on the bed, and finished arranging the variety of sex toys on the bed as messages started to pop up in the chat box.

"Finger her until she whimpers."

"Make her suck and drool on your fingers after she cums."

Scaramouche scanned through the chat box as a general consensus was reached. "Her whimpers do sound pretty," He said in response to a comment as spread your legs and took off your bra and panties, swiping his thumb over your clit, "especially when she's about to cum," He pushed two fingers inside of you.

You let out a shaky moan as he hooked his fingers into your sweet spot, grasping your chin when you looked nervous for a moment, your hips jerking up into his fingers. "You just keep your pretty eyes on me," He instructed, seeing you relax visibly as you focused on him.

He scissored your walls apart, increasing the pace of his fingers. Whimpers started keening from your throat when he abruptly pushed a third finger in, your hips rocking up to meet his fingers.

"That's a good girl," Scaramouche praised at the behest of the chat, rubbing his thumb over your puffy clit, "cum all over my fingers like a good slut," Your cunt clenched harder hearing his degrading praise.

Your whimpers and moans rose in octave, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your orgasm washed over you. "Look at you shake," He taunted, fingering you through your orgasm.

Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of your puffy cunt and pushed them into your mouth. You moaned happily as he pushed them into your throat. Your tongue lapped worshipping around them as you sucked.

"Edge her with a vibrator on her clit until she begs to cum."

"Make her cum on the vibrator while she rubs her clit."

Scaramouche pressed on your tongue slightly as he pushed his fingers into your throat, making you gag before picking up the vibrator. "Keep your legs spread like a good girl," He said, rubbing the tip of the vibrator on your sensitive clit, "let them see how wet you are for me."

Your walls clenched around nothing, still having not come down from your first orgasm. Scaramouche ruthlessly edged you, building up your orgasm and ruining it over and over until you started sobbing and whimpering. "Please, please I can't take it anymore," Tears had welled in your eyes, much to his and the delight of the watchers.

"Sluts who cry deserve to cum," Scaramouche moved your fingers to your clit and pushed the vibrator inside of you. You writhed on the bed, your legs shaking and your hips bucking up as your fingers rubbed and played with your clit.

He pumped the vibrator in and out of your sopping cunt, turning up the setting when he saw you were close to cumming. You could barely manage coherent words between your moans other than, "Am I being a good girl?"

Scaramouche had promised you lots of praise, which he more than gave to you. "You are being such a good girl, sucking this toy into your greedy cunt while you cry," Your fingers rubbed your clit more feverishly, your walls clenching tighter around the toy. There was sheer adoration in your eyes for him.

He moved your hand away from your clit so he could pinch and rub it until you came on the vibrator, whining and sobbing his name incoherently.

You were panting and twitching by the time Scaramouche pulled the vibrator out of you to glance at the chat. Next everyone wanted to see his cum seep from your mouth while you sucked and deepthroated his cock.

[sarahisslytherin]

rose garden filled with thorns

peeta mellark x reader

summary: peeta and katniss are just playing their parts, aren't they? sometimes you're not so sure.

contains: angst, jealousy.

a/n: ngl i'm proud of this one. shoutout to @oweninadaydream for being my cheerleader for this fic. gif by @bookcentral.

word count: 840

Just this morning you had woken up in Peeta’s arms; now you watch him glide across the dance floor with Katniss in your place. The Capitol party is in full swing now, pastry-shaped bursts of color flashing past you and music blaring. Snow’s garden is overflowing with people, yet you find yourself with no one to turn to. It seems you’re left with nothing else to do other than seethe in the distance as you sip on what feels like your hundredth drink and your eyes follow the capitol’s “star-crossed lovers”.

You had always been fond of Peeta. You would go as far as to say you might had been harboring a bit of a crush on him all these years. You wished you could’ve told him what to expect at his own games before he was reaped, but you had never found the right moment. There was never a right time to tell him of the horrors he would witness, and learn to live with if he somehow managed to survive. You were thankful for his love for Katniss back then, it is what saved them in the end. But now, after that romance had fizzled out upon their return to District 12, and yours had only begun, you feel the pang of jealousy reverberate in your stomach like the fire of a cannon. 

You can only watch for so long before you feel the need to run off, to escape the scene one way or another. The more you look at them, the more they seem to belong together. Did you really think you would be able to get in the way of their famous love? Peeta swears it’s all an act, that they’re only indulging the public to keep Snow content and the dangers at bay. Part of you wants to believe him, but with the way his hand rests on Katniss’ waist as they dance, the way he seems to gravitate towards her no matter where she is tells you otherwise.

You wander the grounds, your heels sinking into the grass-covered soil with every step. The music from the party fades out the farther away you get, relief washing over you as you realize it. You take refuge in an isolated greenhouse which you find to be brimming with Snow’s signature ivory roses. You try not to pay them mind, beautiful as they may be, because you know just thinking about the man who put you all in this game will make you sick.

Your head is spinning from the heat of the night, from the tight confines of your capitol-friendly attire. You’re in such a daze, you almost don’t notice Peeta’s voice echoing your name until his face is mere inches from yours.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he scolds you, as if he has any right to. “How could you just run off like that?”

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” you retort, your words slurring a bit. Peeta’s brows knitted as if wanting further explanation. “What with all your attention on your darling fiancé.”

"You can't be serious." he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know it's not like that."

"How do you think it makes me feel, Peeta? Watching you with her. ever since your games it's been painfully obvious. You loved her then and you love her now."

"Y/n." you hear him groan, but you ramble on.

"I don't know why I lie to myself. I tell myself you moved on, that you love me now. It was stupid. I don't hold a candle to 'the girl on fire'." You barely even notice the tear that dribbles down your cheek until Peeta’s thumb swipes it away. When your gaze meets his it’s like being in the eye of the hurricane, in your own personal haven. 

“It’s all for show, baby. You gotta believe me, it’s all for the Capitol.” he pleads with you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. “Whatever feelings I had for Katniss are gone, I swear.”

You sniffle, helping peeta to dry your tears. “How can you be so sure?”

“How can I be sure?” he repeats, laughing incredulously. “Because every moment I’m with her I spend wishing I was with you.” His hands come up to cradle your face, delicate in his grasp. You know your feelings of inadequacy won’t disappear with a few pretty words, but for now it is enough. Your breathing has steadied, your tears have dried. This isn’t just anyone, it’s Peeta; and he’s your Peeta now.

“C’mon.” he smirks in that way that looks like he's got everything under control. He stands, offering his hand for you to take, and you do. You pull him in by his suit and plant a passionate kiss on his lips. “Let’s get back to the party. You still owe me a dance.” 

You giggle at that, hand in hand as you leave the solitude of the greenhouse. “Alright, Mellark. As long as you don’t step on my toes.” He snickers. “I won’t make any promises.”