#i cry when someone compliments my stuff

[heartsforhavik]

i loved you from the start (raiden x gn! reader)

warnings: none!

summary: just a pure sfw story of raiden having a crush on the reader. (gender neutral, only pronouns used are “you”)

a/n: yeah so. remember when i used to be a havik account? LMAOO sorry i think raiden is very laufey coded and he’s so wholesome in mk1 :> anyways this has been sitting in my drafts for 3 days i'm so glad i finally let it out of the basement

“hi y/n! it’s great to see you. lovely weather we have today, right?” raiden greeted, with his signature bright smile.

raiden was well beloved in your village, and everyone always appreciated his and kung lao’s efforts as farmers to help the village thrive. you were never very close to him, but you still respected him.

"thanks, raiden. yeah, the weather's been real nice lately. i'm glad i can finally walk outside without my skin boiling." you sighed.

raiden laughed. "indeed. i'm glad the weather's been going easy on you."

"i suppose so. what about you? i can imagine you aren't very comfortable working under the burning sun. has it been better for you these past few days?" you asked.

you both continued your little banter for a couple hours, just walking around the village with no particular destination. but little did you know, he had the biggest crush on you, and he was ecstatic that he could finally talk to you.

it was because he was usually very shy around you. he gets quiet when there's nobody else around, it was usually you two being together in awkward silence. but today was different. he woke up that morning wanting to talk to you. he immediately got himself freshened up and went around the village to find you with his newfound courage. he was glad his day with you went well and he didn't mess up or say anything weird.

"it's getting dark. the time went by so fast, but i didn't even notice because i was having such a fun time talking to you." you admitted.

"well, i suppose time goes by when you're having fun." raiden smiled.

you chuckled. "yeah.. i guess so."

you both stood in silence for a bit, neither of you wanting to go home.

"you should get home now. it's getting late." raiden advised. he didn't really want to see you go, but he also wanted you to stay safe.

"okay.. goodnight raiden. i'll see you tomorrow." you said, before placing a kiss on his cheek and walking away.

raiden stood there for a solid minute, frozen where he stood. did that really just happen? is he dreaming? he hoped he wasn't.

he walked home with a cheeky grin on his face, and even went to sleep with that same grin. that moment where you kissed him replayed in his head over and over until he finally fell asleep.

that next morning, unfortunately he couldn't immediately talk to you. he had to go back to work. but he was okay with that. he knew once he was done, he can go talk to you again and maybe even offer to take you out for a nice dinner. he was tired of just looking at you from afar, yearning for more than friendship. he was tired of not having the courage to make a move, fearing rejection. he was tired of being completely head over heels for you, and never doing anything about it. he was always feeling as if cupid himself shoots an arrow through his heart every time he speaks to you. he had to do something now.

"you seem happy today. is there something exciting about our harvest?" kung lao scoffed, noticing his best friend's excitement as they worked.

"the harvest? no, not really." raiden replied.

"oh? so if it's not the harvest... is it a special someone? ooh, does someone have a crush?" kung lao teased, playfully elbowing raiden.

"w-what? no.. i mean.. maybe.. how did you know?" raiden stammered.

"i saw you walking around the village with someone yesterday. is that who it is?" kung lao asked.

raiden blushed, hiding his face with his hat.

kung lao laughed. "oooh, i wanna meet this person! let me see if you two are a match made in heaven."

when they got done with their work, they both immediately went to find you. when they found you at madam bo's, kung lao was ecstatic.

"hello there! y/n, is it? raiden talks about you all the time." kung lao greeted. raiden elbowed him.

"oh really," you laughed. "i'm flattered, raiden."

raiden loved hearing you laugh. it was like a sign that you were pleased by something he said or did. there are many things he would do for your approval or just to make you laugh. even if it slightly makes him look like a fool.

"it's such a coincidence you both found me here. you know, raiden and i talked almost all day yesterday. it was very fun." you shared. after hearing what you said, kung lao had a mischevious grin on his face and raiden blushed.

"oh really? that sounds like lots of fun. wanna tell me more, raiden?" kung lao teased.

"i- uh... um.. i have to excuse myself to the restroom." raiden stammered, running off.

you looked over to kung lao, in confusion. "what was that all about?"

kung lao laughed. "i think raiden has a crush on you!"

"me? really?" you asked.

kung lao shrugged. "but you didn't hear it from me. i'll leave you two alone to figure it out."

you sat there, confused, as kung lao left.

"hey, y/n, sorry about that. i guess i ate something weird." raiden laughed. he was lying. he didn't even touch the toilet. he had paced around the restroom nervously until he gained the courage to come back. he sat down across from you, hoping you wouldn't question it.

you laughed. "your friend says you're interested in me."

raiden blushed. "me? uh.. i.. don't know what he is talking about."

you smiled at how flustered he became all the sudden. "no worries, raiden. i am interested in you too."

his eyes widened in surprise. "you are?"

you nodded. he let out a sigh of relief.

"in that case.. how about i buy you some food? we're already in madam bo's. might as well enjoy a nice dinner." raiden offered.

"i would love to." you replied. you both ended up enjoying the food, and became closer that night. surprisingly, raiden was thankful that his friend exposed him. if kung lao never revealed raiden's feelings to you, he wouldn't have such a wonderful significant other now. (kung lao is forcing you two to offer him free food at your future wedding just because he's the reason you two are together.)

[daydadahlias]

Talented (and I mean really really fucking talented, everytime I start reading one of your fics there comes a point where I just stare at my phone with complete awe at how well written it is or blankly at a wall because something you wrote hits me so deep my mind can’t fully wrap around it)

the game was one word

[noxtivagus]

HOW TO TALK WITH OTHERS IN DMS

[teaboot]

Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing

I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect

Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with

Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.

Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings

Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.

Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.

Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless

Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy

[luvj4key]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ nct dream would be the type of boyfriends that would...

○ pairing: bf!dream x gn!reader ○ genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanons ○ warnings: LOTS of fluff, the dreamies being soft for reader, affection, crying in jisung's part ○ luvj4key's note: hi loves! so this is actually a rewrite of one of my works from my old account (minilinooo) this will be one of many rewrites coming soon since it has been a while since i've starting writing. anyways i hope you all enjoy <3

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ mark is the type of boyfriend that would...

laugh at everything you say and do

cherish every moment you spend together whether that’d be if you’re doing nothing or something

do everything in his power to make sure you know that he loves you

text you “i love you” at least once each day

get lost in your eyes when you’re talking to him and when you ask him what’s wrong he’d just smile at you

pinch your cheeks because he claims that you’re too cute

call you cute every second

enjoy late night talks with you

want a private yet not secret relationship

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ renjun is the type of boyfriend that would...

have such a soft spot with you

have matching jewelry with you

give you princess treatment

play with your hair

love giving you back hugs whenever you’re doing something

scold you if you’re not taking care of yourself

have karaoke nights with you

be protective over you but tries to be lowkey about it

be a sucker for cheek kisses

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jeno is the type of boyfriend that would...

try to have a strong exterior but would absolutely soften up if you’re mentioned or in his presence

always feel the need to be next to you

always look out for you when you’re in the same room but is doing something else

love holding your hand

buy you flowers

love taking you out on dates

putting his hand on your thighs just because

love it when you’re the one that initiates 

get all shy if someone points out how whipped he is for you

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ haechan is the type of boyfriend that would...

always find something to do with you

always have to be touching you in some way

get so happy whenever you agree to game with him

come to you first whenever he’s struggling with something, he trusts you with everything

kiss your hand whenever he’s holding it

always be there if you need someone to talk to

love to joke around with you

defend you like his whole life depends on it, he’s never letting anyone trash talk you

be your number one fan

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jaemin is the type of boyfriend that would...

never raise his voice at you

prioritize you. if you need him, he’ll be there in a heartbeat

love to spoil you

look at you with so much love in his eyes

always always take care of you

always think about you

make it very known that he’s in a relationship

have a photo album of pictures he took of you with his camera

texts you long paragraphs saying how much he loves and appreciates you

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ chenle is the type of boyfriend that would...

brag about you to his members

love joking around with you

absolutely crack up whenever you’re being silly. you never fail to make him laugh

lowkey be possessive over you (in a non-toxic way)

surprise you with random gifts saying that it reminded him of you

refer to you as daegal’s mom

spend you silly pictures of him or of random stuff throughout the day

get mad if someone made of fun you because only he can

give you head pats

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jisung is the type of boyfriend that would...

listen and pay attention to everything you say and do

be an absolute softie around you

love to do couple coordinated outfits

bring you to late night practice sessions to show you the choreography he’s working on

want to make some choreo with you and you only

get all shy when you praise and compliment him

cry when you cry

love your affection but would sometimes be too shy to ask for it

fidget around and play with either your clothes or your fingers

©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost

[jemjams02]

Mammon Relationship Stuff :p

no gender/genitals mentioned! contains NSFW

thank u anon for making me remember I have free will and can gnaw at my enclosure while Mammon stands on the other side of the bars, visibly afraid

Mammon constantly has his hands on you. He HAS to be touching you; a hand on the hip, arm around the shoulders, hand in the back pocket, etc. If it's not his hands, it's his whole body, he'll press against you just to feel you there

Speaking of hands, Mammon's are pretty! Perfectly manicured, and with many rings on his fingers. He often gives you one of his rings to wear! An innocent gesture in your eyes, but to him, it's just practice for when he gives you your own special ring (wink wink)

He can't say no to you. You don't even have to give him any puppy-dog eyes, he'll do pretty much anything the first time you ask! He's absolutely whipped for you, and would kill someone if you asked.

If he could, he would whisk you away to a secluded place forever. He wants you all to himself! He can't help his greed, ESPECIALLY when it comes to you. Anything you're willing to give him, he'll take and take, and sometimes he just wishes you could give him and only him your attention.

Not a sharer, and will consistently invite himself to your plans (especially the ones with his brothers). He has to make sure nobody tries to steal you away!

NSFW

Sex with Mammon happens almost every night, he honestly doesn't sleep very well without you bouncing on his cock for at least an hour before bed

Desperate to make you cum, whether it's in his mouth/on his face, on his cock, or inside him. He needs it, he's greedy for your pleasure, and sometimes will ignore his own hard-on to work your sex until you're crying and begging for him to fuck you properly

LOVES having you sit pretty on his cock! He loves using his demonic strength to push and pull you up and down his shaft; sometimes slow and teasing, and sometimes he bounces you on his cock with reckless abandon, loving the way you writhe and shake in his grip at his merciless pace.

LOUD LOUD LOUD this man cannot shut up once he's got you in his bed. If he's not yapping, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. You just feel so good!!! Constant streams of praise and compliments fall from his lips as you squeeze around him just right

Master of aftercare, he just needs a second to breathe. If you're up for it, he'll run a bath and soak with you for a while as he uses a warm washcloth on your more sensitive areas

Biter, absolutely a menace. Since Mammon made you his, you don't walk around without a few dozen marks on your body at any given time, it looks like you were attacked by a pack of wild dogs

Likes dressing you up all pretty for him, only to tear whatever cute lingerie/underwear he bought you to shreds. Likes seeing makeup get ruined by your tears as he makes you cum for the upteenth time, and he WILL have you wear jewelry (and only jewelry), his favorite color on you is gold, obviously

LOVES cumming inside, it fills him with a sense of satisfaction to see his cum filling you. He's claimed you, inside and out,

[simpjaes]

hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

[euaphoric]

˚୨୧⋆｡ જ⁀➴ ‎♡‧₊˚ [ ストロベリー ]

✩‧₊˚ pairing — boyfriend!jk x hyperfem!f!reader

✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, sm*t (not too detailed tho), cutesy couple stuff, v dramatic koo, marking, dry h*mping, c*ckwarming

nothing’s more fun than sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, looking pretty while doing your makeup <3

banner made by moi, pls don’t steal! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“mmph, hah—stopp that tickles!” your voice squeaks from forcefully letting out a string of giggles. attempting to apply eyeshadow through the vanity in front of you but failing miserably. all you can hear is him whining and moaning, “but whyyy? i’m having too much fun with youu.” ring clad fingers creep up past your collarbone again, jungkook was getting way more entertainment out of this than you. “‘c-cause you’re distracting me, gah!” the noises you’re making are obnoxiously loud at this point but he didn’t seem to care at all. you’ve given up—tears began to form in the corners of your eyes now, this tickle spree has gone on for far too long but no matter how much you protest and squirm he wouldn’t let you out his grasp.

it started off tranquil at first, casually sitting on his lap with his arms locked around your waist—nuzzling his chin in your neck as you do your makeup to head out with friends later. you were trying to keep him entertained by narrating everything you’re doing, acting like one of those beauty gurus you like to watch on tiktok or youtube. you wore your my melody spa headband to keep the strands out your face, along with your favorite pastel mini dress, the knee high stockings with satin bows were the cherry on top set the look. jungkook gets bored super easily, his mind will draw attention elsewhere in a split second and usually that ends up with bothering you as much as possible. he’d sneak quick little kisses here and there, play with your thighs, basically keeping his hands anywhere but to himself. that’s when he started tickling you for no absolute reason, he loved hearing your high-pitched squeals—it was pure serotonin to him, he needed more to brighten his day.

“koo!” you cry, “please!” your shaky hands fumble with the brush in attempt to playfully hit him with it. sigh, you just wanna do your makeup in peace. “l-leavee me alone!” it sounded nowhere near threatening coming from you, there was not a scary bone in your body whatsoever. “like i’ll ever do that peaches, you’re my babyy,” he chimes, glittering you with sweet endearing compliments “you shouldn’t be so stinkin’ cute! wanna eat you.” when he pretends to bite your ear this only makes the uncontrollable laughter continue, and by now you’re never going to finish this makeup in time. “i really need.. t-to get goin’ ssoon!” there was no indication what the time was currently but you know you’ve wasted enough that you were going to be running late meeting your friends. “mmm..but i don’t want you to go, stay here!” jungkook finally caves in with stopping the tickles (only for now) but gets all mopey about you leaving him.

“eeek, i’m free!” you graciously cheer now that you can go back to what you’re doing. “so handsy today, maybe it’s the strawberry lotion..” “ah, so that’s what it is?” he asks, “was wonderin’ why you smelled like strawberry shortcake.” “mhm, i know you like that one.” you grab your eyeshadow brush to dip it in your fav dior palette, choosing a pretty peach color to add to your eyelid, then apply silver glitter on top to make it pop. “who you looking all cute for like this anyway, huh? i won’t be able to protect you from all the pervs staring at what’s mine!” god he can be so overly dramatic at times, always wanting to keep you inside so no one can even look at you. of course he doesn’t do it in a toxic way but he gets jealous real easily and never let’s go of your hand when out in public—he just feels so lucky to have stumbled upon someone like you, cute, smart, funny, sexy, kind, all in one.

lush pink lips trail down to your shoulders, the slightest touch leaving you with goosebumps as he’s still hugging your waist firmly in his embrace. “ugh…don’t want you to go.” jungkook murmurs against you, gliding his hands up and down your body, he sounded so sad and it didn’t help that you could see him pouting through the mirror. “i won’t be out for long, i’ll be back before you know it kookie!” he still didn’t sound convinced. he was very selfish with you, he wants you all to himself most of the time so whenever you go hang out with friends he makes it such a big production. “you’re so beautiful baby,” he coos, “my cute little princess.” his veiny hands shift underneath the hem of your dress, caressing your plump, ample thighs. more delicate kisses are planted up your neck, he’s become increasingly quiet now—focusing solely on this moment of cherishing you. he might’ve gotten a bit too comfortable as one of his hands traveled up to fondle your breasts, not even realizing until you said something.

“was last night not enough for you?” you giggle, reaching for your lipstick. “no” he simply replied, “i need you 24/7.” “all day, every day.” he was too precious, you wanted to put him in your pocket forever. you moved ever so slightly in his bond, noticing the familiar feeling of his bulge against your clothed heat. just that tiny bit of movement was enough to get you flustered. you hadn’t sensed his overt horniness until now—just bathing in his warmth and letting his desires roam free, you didn’t think he’d actually get turned on by all of this. then again, this is jungkook we’re talking about, he’ll get horny just by seeing your ankle. “mmph…want you baby.” his pleas are so adorable to you, but you’re already short on time so you had to hurry soon. jungkook rocks his hips into you, sliding his fingertips down your sides while nipping at your neck. “we gotta make it quick though..” you whisper softly, grinding against him to match his lazy movement. “you have my word princess.” he steers your hips in place to keep you exactly where he wants, steadily running his hands over your exposed skin. the tent in his pants only grew as you kept rubbing your ass on him, he’s simply going to jizz himself if it continues like this.

“fuck, can’t take anymore. want to feel youu.” he whines immaturely, never able to contain any patience within. “better hurry then.” you remind him of the time crunch, with that answer he wastes not another second to pull it out of his sweatpants—sliding your panties aside and slipping in with ease. your body’s become so accustomed to him that you don’t need foreplay half the time. once he’s fully settled in he stays motionless for a while, letting you adjust to his thickness. several fleeting kisses saturate your back, leading them up to your neck once more to leave small love bites. you’re unsure of why he still hasn’t moved yet but you don’t question it, you’re enjoying the moment you two are sharing. it didn’t really feel like you were being sexual with him; more so a passionate intimate bonding that runs deeper than just sex. jungkook loves you intensely and you can feel it in every fibre of his being. the way he holds you, kisses you, pampers you, makes sure you feel like the most beautiful girl in the universe to him. he was so yours. “we don’t even need to fuck, i can stay like this baby.” he rests his head on your shoulder, drinking in the sweetness of your strawberry fragrance. “okay.” you smile, the feeling of him pulsating inside emits a glowing sensation. “as you wish my love.”

[alimaybankkk]

sunshine

summary: jj never really thought of loving a girl before. it was always a hit and run, but you were something else.

warnings: fluff. that’s literally it. like major fluff

pairing: jj maybank x innocent!routledge!fem! reader

————————————————————————

you were outside of the chateau, chilling in your yellow sundress when you heard his voice.

“hey, y/n,” jj said, sitting down next to you.

you grinned, tying a knot on the bracelet you were making. “hi, jj.”

he looked at you in deep thought for a moment, noticing it was the first time he ever loved the way his name was said.

“is john b here?” he asked.

you didn’t let your smile fade, although you were pretty bummed. you wished he’d come to see you, but you shrugged. “i don’t think so. wanna hang with me for a little bit?”

he looked like he was thinking, but he eventually shook his head. “i’ll just come back later.”

he wanted to stay with you. in fact, he needed to stay with you. but the thought of loving someone the way he loved you was terrifying. especially if it was his best friends little sister.

he stood, starting to walk but you followed after him. “well, where are you going?”

he shut his eyes as he stopped in his tracks. “home.”

you shook your head. “jj, can you stay with me? i’m bored.”

he shook his head. “i got work to do, princess. maybe another time.”

you suddenly looked at him with puppy dog eyes, gripping his bicep. “please?”

he bit his lip. damn, if he knew how to say no to you, he would have done it. but he didn’t. he grabbed your hand and took you back to where you were sitting earlier.

“pick a color, jj,” you said, putting your old bracelet off to the side.

“um,” jj thought. “i don’t know.”

“come on, j, just pick one!” you rested your head on your knees.

“um,” he said, looking around. his eyes fell on your dress, which he loved a lot, but was too nervous to say. “yellow.”

you looked up. “like the sunshine, right, j?”

he sighed. “yes, princess, like the sunshine.”

“it’s very warm today. i was tanning earlier. look how much sun i got,” you said. you showed him your arm after gathering a few different strings to put together.”

jj smiled. “cute.”

“so, what did you need my brother for?”

he shrugged. “pogue stuff.”

“i’m a pogue,” you muttered. “why can’t i know?”

“because, honey, it’s secret.” he brushed it off like it was nothing, but you wanted to cry.

your hair was in a half up half down style, one that jj had never seen before on you, with your ends blown out and complimenting your hair color. you noticed he was looking at your hair, which gave you an idea.

“j,” you said, rummaging through your bookbag. “can you tie a bow?”

he shrugged, catching sight of the yellow ribbon you threw onto the grass. “sure, princess, i can.”

“tie one into my hair, please.”

he sighed and you turned around. jj wanted to hold you close to him and cuddle you, but he had self control. he looped the ribbon around the ponytail at the top and began tying as you leaned your back against his chest.

“you’re making it hard for me to tie, here, princess.” he chuckled, having to restart. he had goosebumps from how close you were.

you almost fell asleep. “you’re comfortable, jj.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to leave a trail of kisses from your ear down your neck.

“done,” he said, starting to twirl a few strands as he waited for you to get off of him. “you can sit up now.”

“no,” you shook your head and forced him to lay down, cuddling up to him.

“come on, princess, sit up,” he said, tapping your hip.

“j, i’m comfortable. please?” and for the second time in five minutes, you looked at him with the puppy dog eyes.

he sighed, pushing your head back onto his chest. “remember how john b said you were off limits when you turned 13?”

“yeah? and you said never in a million years would you want me?” you asked.

he winced. he regretted those words every day, wishing he could go back and take them away. “yeah. yeah, that time.”

“what about it?”

“nothing. take a nap, princess. you’ll get even more tan.” he said.

“okay.” you agreed and fell asleep.

* honestly, jj felt like a creep. he’d watched you sleep for at least thirty minutes, but he couldn’t help it. he loved the way your chest rose and fell slowly. but mostly, he loved that you even smiled in your sleep.

jj’s legs were starting to cramp. he couldn’t move without waking you, but he didn’t have a choice. your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, startled.

“‘m sorry, princess.”

you smiled an ‘it’s okay.’ and sat up. he followed, starting to realize how sweaty he felt. he brushed it off and took a sip from the water bottle that was there.

“jj, that’s mine,” you told him and grabbed it back, drinking it until it was gone.

“someone’s thirsty,” he commentated and jabbed you in the hip.

you giggled, throwing the water bottle at him. “i got to get back to my bracelet,” you said to yourself and went away at knotting .

he watched you contently for five whole minutes before saying, “do you still love the stars?”

you froze. it was something dumb you’d told him when you were eight. you never had expected him to remember, but you nodded. “yeah.”

he grinned, thinking of how cute you would be on a blanket pointing to the little dipper.

“wanna watch them with me tonight?” he asked. he bit his lip, waiting for your answer.

your smile grew wider. “okay.”

he slapped your back, chuckling. “it’s a date then.”

you turned around and have him a thankful look that he wished he could take a picture of in the moment and look at every second of his life.

“jj,” you said, looking past his shoulder. “john b’s back.”

jj would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset. he was bummed that it was no longer the two of you. he was upset that there probably would not be another cuddle session that evening.

to be honest, he’d only realized his feelings for you a few years ago. at least, he’d recognized them. he’d always felt the same about you, but only around three years ago did he realize it was love.

you had loved him knowingly since the first time he held your hand on the way to school while john b walked beside him, defending you from the bigger and meaner kids at school.

you’d always had that puppy love for him.

and he’d always had that puppy love for you.

“right.” jj said back, standing and approaching john b.

he turned around. “stars at my house, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, gripping the grass and ripping a few blades out.

* jj had set out a few pillows and a blanket on the roof of his house. he was quite comfortable on his own, snuggling up into the pillows he slept with every night. he couldn’t get over the fact that soon he would be able to lay his head on a pillow that smelt like you.

after a few minutes of listening to the crickets, he heard footsteps. “jj?”

he sat up and peaked over the edge of the roof. “shh, princess, don’t go inside.”

he watched you look up at him, smiling as you locked eyes with him. your eyes reflected the moon and the stars. they looked no different from how they usually did. well, maybe they did; jj usually saw the whole world in them.

“jj, i can’t get up there,” you whined. he climbed down the ladder and grabbed your hands, smiling at you.

“hi,” he said.

“hi.”

he ordered you to go on his back and you climbed there, fighting your fear of heights. he climbed the ladder with no problem, placing you gently on the fort he’d made. you leaned back and laid down as he laid down next to you.

jj knew how small he made the little circle. he wanted to be as close as possible to you. you loved it, too.

“oh, baby, your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said, mentally kicking himself for the pet name.

and you mentally kicked yourself for almost fainting at the nickname. he’d never called you that before. “what did you say?”

“i said… i said your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said nervously.

“before that.”

he hesitated. “baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, turning to face him. “i liked it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he helped you sit up as you leaned against his chest and he retied your ribbon for the second time today.

“i like your hair like this, baby.” he said, smiling as you shivered at the nickname.

“thank you,” you said, leaning your head into his neck.

he nodded and kissed your forehead.

what are we? he thought, resting his chin on your head.

you were looking at the sky through the side of your eye and you launched your finger out. “venus.”

“what, baby?” he asked, his attention being drawn back to you.

“i can see venus.” you pointed. he followed your gaze but didn’t see anything. he pretended he did.

“very beautiful, princess.” he said. just like you, he thought.

you nodded, turning back to him and reaching into your pocket of the shorts that were under your dress.

you pulled out a yellow chevron bracelet. the one that you had not finished before he left. it warmed his heart to know that you had not stopped thinking about him when he left.

“you got a gift for me, don’t you, routledge?” he asked, not accidentally holding your hand for a little too long when he grabbed it out of your hand.

“like the sunshine,” you told him, pointing to the yellow.

he grinned. “just like the sunshine, princess.”

“i would love some sunshine right now,” you said.

“i have some,” jj blurred out without thinking.

you raised an eyebrow. “how?”

he couldn’t go back now. “in a way, baby, you are my sunshine.”

you grinned, your face lighting up. he knew the sun was your favorite star in the sky ever since you were eight .

“i’m your sunshine?”

“my sunshine.” he told you, cuddling close to you. “if i’m upset, you make me feel better.”

you didn’t even think about it, but you gave him a kiss. on the lips.

it was something you did a lot—kiss him—but it was usually just on the forehead or on the cheek.

he froze. you sat up. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

but he smashed his lips against yours, drowning you in passion and love.

“i love you, baby.” he told you.

“i love you, too, jj,” you said, smiling wide.

“oh and this bracelet reminds me…” he started, reaching into his pocket. he pulled out a neckless. it was made with clay beads, a type of bead you enjoyed.

it was yellow.

“i made it for you.” he told you as he adjusted it onto your neck.

* a/n: so fluffy

part 2? idrk

[tempobaekh]

Light in the darkness

Pairings: grumpy!bucky x sunshine!nurse!f!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, a bit of asshole bucky, hurt to comfort, kind of enemies to lovers but it’s mostly buck, no reader physical description so can be read as any appearance, female reader

A/N: got inspired to write this one after i came across @apparentlytheproblem account and enemies to lovers prompt list. there is a lot of good stuff there so i thank her for motivating me to write this, I used some of the prompts from that list, they will be highlighted in the fic. also got the trope inspiration from @buckyalpine (I absolutely love your writing) this fic here I absolutely love it, with perfect amount of angst and cuteness please go read it!! anyways enough of my yapping, enjoy reading!!<3 (also please listen to these two in this order for more feels, I myself was listening to them while writing this and omfg it got me in the feeeels)

The infirmary of the Avengers compound is a well-lit, sterile environment, but you've managed to make it warm with your presence.

Cute little potted plants all over that were practically your babies, small fidgeting gadgets for anyone to fidget with (particularly for Bruce and Tony), small snacks placed in different containers scattered around the infirmary (frequently emptied by Tony), and a few stuffed animals placed here and there, all meant to make the space less intimidating.

You’ve always been a naturally optimistic person, someone who sees the best in everyone and everything. The Avengers compound, with its high-stakes missions and often tense atmosphere, was a perfect place for you to share your sunny disposition.

The team appreciated it—your laughter, your kindness, your unwavering positivity. They said you were a breath of fresh air, a light in the often dark world they navigated.

Every day, you greet the team with a cheerful smile, your laughter echoing through the corridors like a soothing melody. Everyone seems to love you—everyone except for Bucky Barnes.

From the moment Bucky set foot in the compound, he knew he was out of place. Haunted by his past, he kept his distance from everyone, preferring the silence and solitude of his own company, he mostly stuck to Steve and would occasionally have a Sam-sized problem hanging behind him.

He barely speaks to anyone, and when he does, it’s usually to snap or grumble. With you, he’s even worse. There’s an edge to his voice, a coldness in his eyes that seems to cut through your sunny disposition like a knife.

When he first saw you, with your bright smile and cheerful demeanor, he felt a strange pang in his chest—a mix of longing and irritation.

You were everything he felt he could never be again: light-hearted, carefree, a beacon of hope in a world that still felt foreign and hostile to him.

A world where he was still hated by some- or many.

Every time you laughed, it reminded him of what he had lost, of the darkness that had claimed his tortured and scarred soul. He hated that feeling, that reminder, and by extension, he hated that you were the one to evoke it.

From the moment you met him, he seemed determined to extinguish your light. His coldness was a stark contrast to your warmth, his gruff demeanor a perpetual challenge to your cheerful one.

At first, you chalked it up to his history, his need for time to adjust and heal. You were patient, giving him space while still trying to make him feel welcome.

Every day, you made small efforts to connect with him. You brought him coffee with extra sugar, hoping the gesture would soften his grumpy exterior. You cracked light-hearted jokes, trying to coax a smile out of him. You even complimented his metal arm, not out of pity, but genuine admiration. Yet, every attempt was met with indifference or a sharp retort.

Your jokes were often greeted with a curt nod or a dismissive grunt, and your compliments seemed to make him even more uncomfortable, his eyes narrowing as if questioning your sincerity.

Despite your efforts Bucky kept his distance and rejected. When you brought him coffee with extra sugar, he grumbled about preferring it black.

“I prefer my coffee black,” he would say, barely looking at you as he set the cup aside, not noticing the hurt look on your face.

When you made light-hearted jokes, he responded with curt nods or dismissive remarks. When you complimented his metal arm, he saw it as pity, a reminder of his brokenness. Your persistent cheerfulness was like a spotlight on his scars, and he resented you for it.

But deep down, Bucky knew that his anger wasn't really directed at you. It was aimed at himself, at the man he used to be and the man he thought he could never become again.

Your presence forced him to confront emotions he had buried deep within himself—emotions he didn't know how to handle. Every time you tried to break through his defenses, it was like a chisel chipping away at the walls he had built around his heart, and it terrified him.

Each brush-off, each cold response, chipped away at your resolve, leaving you more confused and hurt.

It wasn’t just the rejection that stung; it was the feeling that you were the only one he treated this way.

Everyone else seemed to get along with him fine, or at least, they didn’t bear the brunt of his sharp edges. You couldn’t understand why you were the exception, why he seemed to harbor a special kind of disdain just for you.

You tried not to let it show, maintaining your sunny facade for the sake of the team. But inside, every encounter with Bucky left a small, invisible wound.

You would smile through the pain, and laugh through the hurt, but the weight of his rejection grew heavier with each passing day.

Nights were the hardest, lying in bed replaying your interactions, wondering what you had done to earn his ire. Wondering and thinking where you went wrong, blaming everything on yourself.

And yet, despite the pain, you found yourself drawn to him. Maybe it was the challenge he represented, the mystery of his cold exterior, and the glimpses of vulnerability you occasionally saw.

There were moments, fleeting and rare, where you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes—a hint of sorrow, a flicker of regret. Those moments made you wonder about the man beneath the armor, the soul behind the scowl.

Gradually, your frustration and sadness turned into something more complex.

You began to care for him, despite his harshness.

You noticed the way his jaw clenched when he was upset, the way his eyes softened when he thought no one was watching, the way he fiddled with either his dog tags around his neck or his sleeve when he would get anxious, the way the sound of any whirring machine close to him would subtly make him jump.

You saw the pain he carried, the ghosts that haunted him, and your heart ached for him.

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to show him that he didn’t have to face his demons alone.

But every time you tried, he pushed you away, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Your feelings grew in the quiet moments, in the way you found yourself thinking about him even when he wasn’t around, in the way your heart raced at the sound of his voice, even when it was laced with irritation.

You realized you were falling for him, despite his best efforts to keep you at arm’s length.

You were falling for James Buchanan Barnes.

And he hated you.

One evening, after a particularly brutal mission, you’re restocking the infirmary when the door slams open. You jump, nearly dropping a box of gauze.

When Bucky stumbled into the infirmary, bleeding and in pain, he didn't want to admit to himself why he came to you. He could have gone to anyone else, but something—an instinct, a need—drove him to seek you out.

Bucky stumbles in, clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers. His face is pale, eyes dark with pain and something else—frustration? Anger? It’s hard to tell.

“Barnes!” you exclaim, rushing to his side. “What happened?”

A strange mix of emotions flooded you. Concern for his well-being, of course, but also a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the moment he finally let you in.

He grunts, shaking his head as if to dismiss your concern. “Just patch me up.”

You guide him to a bed, your hands surprisingly steady given the state he’s in. You quickly gather the necessary supplies, your mind racing with questions.

Why did he come to you? He usually avoids you like the plague, very often going to Helen instead of you no matter the severity of the injury.

As you begin to clean his wound, he hisses, muscles tensing under your touch.

“Sorry,” you murmur, your tone soft.

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those intense baby-blue eyes. It’s unnerving, but you refuse to let it shake you. Instead, you focus on your work, your movements gentle yet efficient.

Bucky watched you work with a mixture of frustration and awe. Your hands were gentle, your touch soothing, and for a moment, he allowed himself to feel vulnerable in your presence.

As you stitch him up, the silence between you grows heavier, filled with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You wrap up the last of his wound and look him straight in the eye. “Bucky, why do you hate me so much?” your voice trembled with frustration and hurt.

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your question and his response took you by surprise. “I don’t hate you.”

You blink for a second and then scoff, shaking your head, trying to process his words. “You could’ve fooled me. You’ve been nothing but cold and an asshole since the day we met. I just don’t get it. Everyone else likes me, but you. You go out of your way to avoid me like I'm some plague! You always brush me off rudely and call me a bother when I try speaking to you only to speak with the others like it's nothing! You can't even give me the decency of respect, you pretend that I don't even exist!."

You stop, realizing you have almost gone to shouting, and take a deep breath in.

"Why?" your voice is quiet and broken, hurt and horse. Your eyes glazing with unshed tears,

Bucky felt a surge of conflicting emotions. He wanted to push you away, to keep you at a distance where you couldn't hurt him. Where he couldn't hurt you with his broken soul, and the demons from his past.

But the heart-shattering sadness on your usually lit-up face, made him also want to pull you closer, to let you in and see the parts of him he kept hidden. It was a battle between his fear and his longing, and for the first time, he felt the fear of losing.

Specifically, losing you.

“I’m not...used to feeling this way, okay?” he snaps, the admission seeming to cost him. His jaw clenches, and he looks away, refusing to meet your gaze.

For the first time, you saw something other than anger in his eyes.

Vulnerability.

Fear.

“Feeling what way?” you press, your voice shaking slightly, your frustration bubbling over. “What did I ever do to you?”

He’s silent for a long moment, the tension in the room almost suffocating. Finally, he lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping, his emotions pressing down on him. “I feel the opposite of hate...towards you,” he admitted, his voice raw and honest.

The revelation left you breathless. All this time, you thought he despised you, but in reality, he was struggling with feelings he didn’t know how to handle. Your heart ached for him, for the battles he fought within himself.

He watched your eyes widen in surprise, your mind trying to process his words.

The words hang in the air, and you can hardly believe your ears. “You...what?” your voice barely a whisper.

Bucky turns to face you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and determination. “You heard me. I don’t hate you., far from it. You’re always so...bright and happy. It messes with my head. Makes me feel things I thought I’d forgotten how to feel. You make me realize that I can feel a romantic attraction towards someone, you make me realize that I can have some goodness in life. You make me feel want. To want something and not feel selfish.”

You blink, trying to process his confession. “You...want me?” you asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Without hesitation, he answers, “You know I do.”

A slow smile spread across your face, and for the first time in a long while, Bucky felt a glimmer of hope.

The weight of his confession settled over you, bringing with it a mixture of relief and tenderness. You smiled a slow, genuine smile that lit up your face. “Such a pretty liar, mhmm. And here I stressed over that you hated me.” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips, his usual gruff demeanor softening.

He grumbles, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Shut up and kiss me.”

You don’t need any more encouragement.

You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a sweet, tender kiss. It’s hesitant at first as if you’re both testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, the pent-up emotions of the past months pouring out in that one perfect moment. It was a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words, the hidden feelings, the pain and hope intertwined.

When you leaned in and kissed him, it was like a dam breaking. All the emotions he had bottled up for so long—fear, longing, hope—flooded out in that one perfect moment.

Your lips were soft and warm against his, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt at peace.

As the kiss deepened, Bucky knew that things wouldn’t be easy. He still had a long way to go, and there were still demons he needed to face. But with you by his side, he felt a renewed strength, a reason to keep fighting.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, Bucky felt something he hadn’t felt in years: happiness. Maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the sum of his past mistakes. With you, he could be the man he once was—the man he wanted to be.

You pulled back, breathless and smiling, and a little dazed, you knew that this was just the beginning. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, you felt like you had a chance to break through his walls, to reach the man behind the mask.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “Maybe you’re not such a grump after all.”

Bucky smirks, a rare but genuine smile lighting up his face. “Don’t push your luck.”

You giggle, the sound like music to his ears.

As you finish bandaging his wounds, the atmosphere between you has shifted. There’s a new understanding, a connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe things won’t be easy, and maybe Bucky will always be a bit of a grump, but you’re determined to be his sunshine, to bring light into his dark world.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you.

Bucky's confession had changed everything. In the days following that night in the infirmary, his demeanor towards you began to shift.

The once icy wall he maintained seemed to melt slightly, and while he wasn't exactly warm, there was a newfound softness in his eyes when he looked at you.

Still, the past months of his coldness and hostility left a lingering tension between you, a wound that needed healing.

You knew that a kiss and a confession would not be enough to cure his long-standing hostility toward you; you knew you both needed to have a conversation.

One evening, you stayed late at the compound, finishing up some paperwork in the infirmary. The sun had long set, casting the room in a dim, serene glow from the soft lights overhead.

You were engrossed in your work when you heard a knock at the door. Looking up, you saw Bucky standing there, looking hesitant and unsure. Your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of anticipation and wariness flooding you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside.

“Hey there you,” you replied softly, setting your pen down. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. “I need to talk to you.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the white chair, that currently had a cute Dumbo plush placed on it. Bucky grabbed the plush before sitting down and placed it in his lap, fidgeting with the ears, his large frame taking up more space than usual, his presence filling the room.

There was a moment of silence, and you could see he was struggling to find the right words.

“I’ve been an asshole,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve treated you terribly, and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

You watched him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Bucky-”

He held up a hand, stopping you. “Please, let me finish, I've been wanting to say this for a while because you deserve an apology. You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me, and I repaid you with coldness and cruelty. I pushed you away because...because I was scared. Scared of what I was feeling, scared of getting close to someone again. I know my behavior is not to be excused but I'm being honest doll." he pleaded.

You swallowed hard, the raw honesty in his words touching something deep inside you. “I get it, Bucky. But it still hurt.”

“I know,” he said, his voice pained.

He stepped towards you, gently taking your gentle hands into his calloused ones and continuing to speak while tracing patterns on your skin with his thumb, the gesture comforting him. “And I’m so sorry for that. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. What I can do is promise to make it up to you. I want to show you that you won’t regret giving me a chance.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a tentative hope blooming within you. “How do you plan to do that?”

He looked at you with such intensity that it took your breath away. “By being there for you, by treating you the way you deserve to be treated. I want to make you happy, sweetness. I want to be the man you see in me, the man you’ve been so kind and patient with.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity and determination in his voice. “Oh Buck…”

“I crave you, doll,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I crave your touch, your smile, your laughter. Every part of you. I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

The intensity of his confession left you breathless. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I need to know you mean it,” you whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.

He covered your hand with his, his grip firm and reassuring. “I mean it, Y/N. I’ll spend every day of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. More intense than the last one. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up emotions and longing that had been building between you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You really want this? You really want me?”

“More than anything,” he said without hesitation. “You have no idea how much.”

A slow smile spread across your face, a mixture of relief and joy washing over you. “Well then, show me, Barnes.”

He grinned, a rare and genuine smile that made your heart soar. “With pleasure.”

He kissed you again, this time with even more passion and intensity. His hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer, any distance in between being excruciating. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured all your emotions into the kiss. It was a promise, a beginning, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly hopeful.

As the kiss ended, Bucky rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “You won’t regret this, doll. I promise.”

“I believe you,” you whispered, feeling the truth of his words in your heart.

The moment of intimacy is shattered by the sound of cheering and whooping from the doorway. Startled, you both turn to see Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Sam standing there, grinning like a bunch of mischievous teenagers who had just witnessed their friends’ first kiss.

“Finally!” Tony exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I thought I was going to have to script it out for you two. Turns out Terminator actually has the balls to confess." he snickered, seizing a snack packet of dried blueberries and munching on them.

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Took you long enough, Barnes. We were beginning to think you’d never make a move.” the redhead pauses and winks at you.

Steve steps forward, a proud smile on his face. “About time, punk. I knew you had it in you.”

Sam laughs, shaking his head. “And here I was thinking the Winter Soldier was all cold and no heart. Looks like our sunshine melted the ice.”

You feel your face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and amusement washing over you. Bucky, on the other hand, rolls his eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Do you guys mind?”

Tony steps forward, still grinning and munching on his snack. “Not at all. We’ve been waiting for this moment for months. I mean, the tension was practically killing us.”

Natasha nods in agreement. “It was like watching a bad rom-com where the leads are too stubborn to admit they like each other.”

Bucky sighs, shaking his head but there’s a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Well, enjoy the show. It’s over now.”

Steve chuckles. “I don’t think it’s over. I think it’s just getting started.”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Alright, alright. You’ve had your fun. Now, can we have a moment?”

Tony raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll leave you lovebirds alone. But don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

He turns to you and points at the packet in his hand, "Also thanks for this sweets," and struts out.

As the group begins to disperse, Natasha gives you a wink. “We’re happy for you, babe. You deserve it.”

Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder. “Good job, Buck.”

Once they’re gone, you turn back to Bucky, who’s shaking his head, a look of exasperated affection on his face. “I swear, they’re worse than a bunch of kids.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think it’s sweet. They care about us.”

He sighs, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, as long as I get you to myself now.”

You lean in, brushing your lips against his. “You do. And I’m not going anywhere.”

As you kiss him again, the echoes of your friends’ teasing fade away, leaving just the two of you in the warm, comforting glow of newfound love.

With that, you knew that this was the start of something new, something beautiful. It wouldn’t be easy, but together, you felt ready to face whatever came your way. And with Bucky by your side, you knew you could handle anything.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[heavenlyysstuff]

Flower Girl

NETEYAM.s x fem! omatikaya! reader

summary . Whenever in battle, he always had someone to fight for, and he was always going to return to her at the end of the day.

language . syulang ‘ flower . sevin ‘ pretty

a/n . I apologise for the no content recently, kinda lacking ideas rn, so feel free to drop any idea you have in my asks!

The war cry’s and yelps of his people around him became a blur, the sky people relentlessly try to kick at their defence.

Since the loss of home tree, the Omatikaya never seemed to know peace again, not with these creatures invading their land and homes.

Neteyam can only watch from afar as his people fight for what’s theirs, set with the task of being a watcher, making sure to alert his father for any more incoming sky people.

He wants to fight, protect his land… the ones he loves. But he knows that at his age, war shouldn’t be something he should have to prepare and participate in.

He can see the difference between the numbers in his people and them. It looks like they are winning this battle, but at what cost?

He knows his people will be leaving with scars, bruises and cuts, he just hopes he can help his family stay clean.

“We gotta get down there bro!” Neteyam hears his brother beside him on his own ikran.

“Dad will skin us.” His reply is stern, and in Neteyam’s mind he knows any of what happens to his brother in the next few moments, it will be up to him to take the blame.

Lo’am shakes of his worry with a tilt of the head and his ikran soars down onto the battlefield.

“Lo’ak! You…Ughhh…” Neteyam yells out, grunting at his brother’s rebelliousnes, but also commands his ikran to chase down his brother.

Back at camp, you help to organise some herbs you and other apprentice heaters had gathered.

Your fingers brush through each herb and help to put them into its designated bowl. You and the other young women have created a circle around a total of 5 bowls, each of them sorting through their own sections of herbs.

Not only did this job help the people of the clan, it helped that the apprentices were always chatty, and when you bring a handful of chatty young women into one place, information is bound to spread.

The women frequently discuss any of the latest happenings in the clan, usually small playful stuff, it helped to keep the group entertained.

You never did much talking, only listened, occasionally giving your thoughts when asked but you don’t mind much, you’re more of a thinker, so when working you usually just zone out into your own little world.

“Aah, Y/n… you have more of those in your hair.” A passing female states when handing a bowl of salve to another woman, she crouches behind you and begins to peck at your hair with her fingers.

“Ayyie.” You lift your hands to shield your hair and lean forward. “I like it like this…” she giggled behind you and gives your hair one minor adjustment before standing up to move around the circle.

“It is quite pretty you have to admit, Ayyie.” Another girl in the group says while looking up from her work. “I just don’t know how you do it everyday, Y/n.”

“The reaction she gets from Neteyam every time seems to keep her going.” Another states, and the circle begins giggling at the fact.

You bring your head down to avoid the confrontation, heat pools at your cheeks and your tail is brought high up next to you. “What are you talking about.” You reply rhetorically.

She giggles more at your clearly flustered reaction, “oh nothing just how he always compliments it and that smile you have all day when he does.” This causes hums of agreement and laughter to flow through everyone in the circle.

“He doesn’t…it’s not like that.” Your words contradict your actions, as your tail sways hurriedly behind you, ears pinning to the sides of your head which of course makes the women around you giggle to each other.

“Oh leave her alone, she can hardly think about him without getting so worked up.” Tee’ron spills out half in your defends half to tease you.

You decide it’s be best if you just stopped talking to avoid getting deeper into your pit of embarrassment, you keep your head down and continue sorting through herbs.

The girls remain giggling for a bit before Tee’ron puts a hand on your shoulder, “sorry, Y/n.” She says in a between quiet laughs, quick to calm her breathing.

“The war party is back!”

Those words were what broke you out of your working frenzy, immediately your head shoots to look outside and your ears perk up.

You are first to stand from the circle of women, hastily making your way outside the hut and out to see the returning warriors, to see him.

You walk slowly and look at every man and woman in hopes to find him, and once you look forward, he’s there.

You wanted to run to him, but with seeing him came seeing his father, and the rest of his family. You didn’t know weather to get any closer, but you decided to take the chance.

You slowly walk towards him, and once close enough you can hear the tone of his fathers voice when speaking to him, he seemed to tone it down once Neytiri spoke though.

You don’t think Neteyam noticed you when you stood behind him, but his father certainly did “Y/n, could you help Kiri with the wounded.” He tilts his head to gesture to his daughter who stood on the other side of Neteyam.

“Neteyam is wounded.” You speak with a somewhat sharp tone, your quick to bite your tongue though and quickly lower your eyes to look to the side.

The Olo’eyktan sighs and looks between you and his son, “go on then.”

You can see Neteyam’s shoulders visibly relax and you bring a hand to grasp his arm, pulling it to lead him away from his family and toward an empty healing hut.

On the way you look behind you, only to meet Neteyam’s mothers eyes. You could never really read that woman, mostly silent and stern. The look in her eyes was nothing new though, she looked between you and her son and a small smile crept out of her, you didn’t see it for too long, as you turn to guide Neteyam into the hut.

You let go of his arm and he instinctively takes a seat of the ground close to the herbs set next to him.

He slowly sits down with one leg sprawled out and the other perched closer to his chest, hissing at the strain the movements cause him.

“Shhh..” you’re quick to calm him, coming close to his side and placing a bowl of salve informer of you. He glances at you before looking back down to the ground in front of him, and he goes silent. Tilting your head, you ask “how bad was it?” While scanning over his form to take in any hidden injuries.

He rolls his shoulder and fixes his posture, “could’ve been worse, I suppose.” He huffs, and fixes his gaze on you. “Hey,” he tilts his head, raising a hand to poke at your hair, “where’d you get these ones?”

You move your own hand up to you hair, grasping his hand in the process, “secret.” He scoffs at your reply and looks offended.

“I’ve been almost everywhere in this forest, I’ll find them soon enough.” He brings your clasped hands down to rest on his knee. You only smirk and roll your eyes. “Sevin syulang.”

You hum at his words, “yea I thought so to.” Agreeing with his words, without thinking he may not have been talking about the flowers… “let me fix you up, okay?”

He huffs in fake annoyance, but smiles once you lather salve onto a wound on his shoulder, your hands warm to the touch.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands gliding against his slightly scarred skin, feeling as you make your way from his arms, massaging the muscles up to his shoulders.

Then to his face, where you apply smaller amounts of ointment to the wounds. Your hands gliding across his forehead and along the bridge of his nose, under his chin.

He opens his eyes, and realised how much closer you’ve come, only a small distance between your two faces, but he can still feel the slight circular motions you continue on a scar across his jawline.

Exhaling slowly in thought, he grabs your hand to pause your movements, causing you to look into his eyes with what at first was confusion, quickly turning into a realisation.

You both stay eyes locked on each others for a moment, Neteyam’s unoccupied hand coming up to caress your own cheek, the both of you leaning into the others palms.

In what felt like forever, the two of you get closer, eyes dropping low and foreheads touching. Your eyes drop before he follows, heads tilting in sync and lips finally touching, a gentle and passionate kiss shared.

Pulling away slowly for breath, and then moving back in for another in usion, the two of you entranced by each others touch and addicted to the feeling of your hearts beating together.

After three long and loving kisses, foreheads part and you both slowly open your eyes to what had been in front of you all along.

“I see you, Y/n.” Neteyam speaks after quietly catching his breath, bringing you closer into an embrace, arms around your waist to lift you into his lap.

You relax into his body, arms coming up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, “I see you, Neteyam.”

[sapphire-writes]

Chapter 2: Curiosity Killed The Cat

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

summary ~ You begin to adapt to the unusual events of Harrenhal and your mysterious host. An unexpected guest arrives.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, spiders

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

You lay in bed, tossing and turning for several hours waiting for another scream to inevitably pierce through the now silent halls of Harrenhal house. 

Your eyes are too heavy, and you drift into a dreamless sleep. The belly full of tea must have helped soothe your nerves. Or perhaps it was more your time spent with the stoic head of the house. 

It is Maelor’s cry that wakes you the following morning, rather than his mother’s, through the baby monitor on your nightstand. You hear his small gurgles as he wakes, hungry for his morning bottle. Grabbing the monitor, you jump out of bed to head toward the nursery. 

As you walk down the hallway, the door opens and Jaehaera stands dressed in a pink dress, her hair done in two braids down the side of her head. 

“Beat you!” she says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“How’d you get ready so quickly?” you comment, smile slightly faltering, “And how did you do your h--”

“Come on Miss Gevie, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day!” she sings, brushing past you and towards the hallway.

“Jaeha--- um--- I have to get Maelor!” you call, as she disappears around the corner her braids swinging behind her, “Okay….you head down!”

The day starts with a simple breakfast of oatmeal and eggs--Jaehaera is first to inform you that the only way to eat eggs is sunny side up. Aemond joins you but only for a cup of coffee. You notice he prefers it black. He doesn’t speak to you, listening intently to Jaehaera as she chatters away. Then Jaehaera begins her morning lessons when her tutor arrives promptly at nine. A kind older woman who awards you a tight smile when she introduces herself.

You hold Maelor against your hip as he babbles, walking through the main foyer and toward the library. Several workers have arrived, and you’ve seen Aemond directing them to different areas of the house throughout the morning. He’s present in the library, sitting at the oak desk when you enter.  

“Sleep well?” he asks, as he notices you enter the library. His eye flickers to Maelor in your arms. 

Rising from his seat, he closes a folder of papers before rounding the side of the desk. He walks closer to you, lifting his hand toward Maelor. The baby grabs Aemond’s forefinger with his pudgy fist.

“As well as I could. I was nervous during the night,” you admit, cheeks warming, “Just in case anything happened again.”

Aemond hums, still watching Maelor who holds his finger hostage. The baby brings it to his mouth, gnawing on it with his gums. 

“He’s teething,” Aemond comments, “Hopefully that won’t cause more late-night disturbances.”

“It’s alright. I know what I signed up for,” you assure him, as he pulls his hand away from Maelor, patting the baby on the head. 

“I’m afraid you’ll get more than you bargained for,” he says, eyes meeting yours, “This is…a lot.”

Your eyes search his face, trying to decipher the emotions he hides. Trying to find some cracks in the armor he wears during the day. You saw some last night, in the kitchen. The walls came down, if only for a moment.

“You need help,” you tell him, “You can’t manage this all on your own. The kids, Helaena, the house…I’m here to help.”

“The children,” he clarifies, “You’re here to help the children.”

“And you,” you offer, “I mean…if I can be of help with anything I’m happy to do so.”

Let me help you, you silently beg. Someone has to.

Aemond hums once more, “You’re very kind, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Just doing my job,” you assure him, but your face continues to warm at his compliment. 

You hold each other’s gaze for several moments before Aemond finally looks away. 

“I have some work to do,” he tells you, and you take it as a sign to leave him be. 

“Maelor is about ready for a nap,” you tell him, turning on your heel to go.

You shut the door behind you, neither speaking again.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” Aemond tells you later in the week during one of your late-night chats. 

A cup of tea at midnight has become somewhat of a tradition for both of you. Helaena wakes nearly every night. It's always the same. Screaming for the son she lost. The green and purple cups are always waiting for you in the cabinet by the stove for your inevitable journey into the kitchen. 

“Just tying up some loose ends in King’s Landing,” he assures you, “Helaena should be alright. I’ve spoken with her doctor about increasing her nighttime medication.”

“And if she isn’t?” you ask, unable to hide your nervousness at the thought of him leaving.

Aemond watches you for a moment, humming softly to himself. It does little to soothe your nerves.

Things go smoother than expected while Aemond is away. You fall into a gentle routine with Jaehaera and Maelor. 

While Jaehaera is in her lessons you bring Maelor to Helaena. As Aemond had prepared you, Helaena refuses to hold him. She barely even looks at him. Her eyes instead are trained on your face, reading your microexpressions like the pages of a book. You and Helaena don’t talk much during these visits, though you attempt to engage her in conversation.

She always joins you for lunch, after you put Maelor down for his afternoon nap. Jaehaera comes fresh from High Valyrian and chats with her mother in their native tongue. 

Then it’s time for Jaehaera’s afternoon lessons and you get some time for yourself as Helaena returns to her room like a bird returning to its cage. 

Usually, you journey to the library, browsing through the collection of novels and trying not to snoop. Though you must admit, in an old house like this it's hard not to. 

Curiosity killed the cat.

Advice you should probably heed. You glance at a desk in the library strewn with papers. Aemond has a private office, he’d told you as much when you arrived. Still, your fingers skim the papers, and you pick up a manila folder examining its contents. 

Old documents, withered and yellowed nearly disintegrating from age. You can barely read the cursive ledger on the page. Squinting, you are able to make out the word Strong.

Satisfaction brought it back.

A loud thump causes you to drop the folder in surprise, sending pages scattering to the floor. 

“Shit,” you curse to yourself, dropping to your knees and picking up the pages, putting them back where they belong. 

You hurry over to the window, looking outside. A red Corvette is parked, its driver missing. The noise must have been the car door slamming shut. Dusting off your knees you hurry out of the library closing the door behind you. You quicken your pace down the hall and front steps as voices echo from the kitchen.

A man stands in front of the sink clad in a three-piece suit, holding his cell phone to his ear.

“Tell Corlys…dammit, I can’t hear you,” he snaps, holding his phone in front of him, “Hello?”

The call clearly drops and he sighs, “Bloody service.”

You clear your throat, alerting him of your presence. He turns slowly, still looking at his phone as though he couldn’t be bothered with you being there at all. A lock of silver hair falls into his eyes as he leans against the counter. A ring on his hand catches the light. Like you’d need to see the Targaryen sigil stamped on the back. You knew he was a relative the moment you saw him.

Targaryens don’t camouflage well. 

“Just a moment,” he comments, glancing up at you from his phone. He does a double-take, straightening up and slipping his phone into his back pocket, “Hello.”

“Sorry…I wasn’t expecting anyone,” you tell him, watching the corner of his mouth tick upwards in a smirk. 

Aemond does that too.

“And I wasn’t expecting a beautiful woman to greet me,” the stranger says, “So I suppose we’re both surprised.”

Warmth floods through you at his flirtatious tone. He’s older--much older-- and an air of confidence encircles him like a veil of smoke.

“Daemon,” he introduces, extending his hand for you to shake, “And you must be the au pair.” 

You place your hand in his, and he grasps it firmly. His palm is rough and warm; much larger than your own. Your lips part, you’re sure you haven’t taken a breath since he’s looked at you.

“Mhmm,” you answer, telling him your name.

Daemon releases your hand, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

“Something funny?” you ask, trying to keep the annoyance from your tone.

“No, nothing. I’ve found au pairs to be particularly helpful,” he comments, laughing under his breath as though he’d told a joke, “It just surprises me, is all.”

“Why is it surprising?”

“Aemond’s not usually the sort,” Daemon says, not clarifying any further. 

You understand what he is implying, your cheeks growing hotter.

“Aemond and I have a strictly professional relationship,” you tell him, causing him to chuckle more.

“I’m sure you do. Aemond does value his professional relationships, doesn’t he?” Daemon says with his smirk growing, “All this talk of my nephew and I’ve yet to see the man. Where is he?”

“He’s not here.”

Daemon’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline.

“Not here?”

“He’s away on business. Won’t be back for a few days.”

“And he left you, all alone?” Daemon asks, taking a step closer to you. He reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You can’t suppress the shiver that rolls through you. 

“I can take care of myself,” you insist. Daemon’s scent floods your senses; teakwood, smoke, cinnamon. Intoxicating; it makes your head spin. 

“I’m sure you can. My nephew wouldn’t have hired you if he had any doubts,” Daemon murmurs, dropping his hand, “It’s not the harmless nanny he needs to worry about.”

“What do you mean?”

Daemon watches you like a cat toying with a mouse. His lip curls slightly, enjoying your discomfort. 

“Are you aware of the history of this house?” Daemon asks.

“Yes,” you tell him.

“Well, there you have it,” Daemon says, walking by you, “Have Aemond call me when he’s returned.”

You can hear his steps echoing down the hall, followed by the slamming of a car door. You stand in the kitchen for several moments, trying to catch your bearings when Jaehaera runs in.

“Who was that?” she asks, throwing her arms around your waist. 

“Just…nothing,” you assure her, stroking her hair, “How were your lessons?”

As Jaehaera tells you about her day, you focus on calming your racing heartbeat. You can’t help but linger on what Daemon had said.

What exactly was he worried about?

Helaena Targaryen loves arachnids. 

This becomes apparent when a spider scurries across the floral picnic blanket you’d laid out for Jaehaera. 

Maelor sits with his thumb in his mouth rocking back and forth as though a gentle breeze may knock him onto his back. Sitting up is quite new to him. The afternoon had been going quite well before the eight-legged monster descended on the tea party.  

“Miss Gevie! Miss Gevie!” Jaehaera screeches, launching herself off of the blanket and into your arms. Her girlish scream echoes through the backyard and she trembles against you. 

The arachnid freezes at her movements, eight legs tensed and ready. Maelor stares at his sister, violet eyes wide before they drop to the blanket. Helaena is seated in a chair a few feet away, the large sun hat she wears partially obscuring her face. 

“The fresh air does her good,” Aemond had told you before he left.

Helaena dives off of her chair, knees crashing into the grass beside the picnic blanket. You comfort Jaehaera as Helaena dips her torso lower against the blanket letting her hand dance above the spider. She presses her cheek into the blanket as the spider curiously lifts two legs up toward her dancing fingers. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she murmurs, touching the tips of her fingers to the spider's outstretched legs. She stays like that for a moment, a small smile appearing on her face. 

Maelor watches his mother, his thumb falling from his mouth. 

“Kill it!” Jaehaera demands as her mother scoops the creature into her hand. 

Helaena rolls onto her back, the rim of her hat getting crushed beneath her. Her knees are stained green. Maelor claps his pudgy hands together letting out a gleeful squawk. 

“Why?” Helaena asked, looking at the creature in her palm with the fondness she no longer gives her children, “For simply being here?”

“He’s ugly and I hate him,” Jaehaera insists, “Make her kill it, please.”

Helaena only hums, letting the spider climb down her arm. She sounds like Aemond when she does that. Warmth bleeds down your cheeks and onto your neck. You’d been missing him. The nights have been rather empty without your late-night chats.

Helaena turns on her side, ignoring her daughter’s pleas and releasing the spider into the grass. Once free, it takes off lost from sight almost instantly. 

“There,” Helaena says happily, “No need for violence, byka jorrāelagon.”

“Kepus would’ve killed it,” Jaehaera says, with her lower lip jutted outwards in a pout. 

There is a shift in the energy between mother and daughter.

“Why don’t you ask him then?” Helaena says, rolling onto her back once more and closing her eyes. 

“Kepus!” Jaehaera says, pushing away from your arms and running toward the house. You watch her run, following her gaze up the stone steps until you meet Aemond’s eyes. 

He’s back.

She throws herself into Aemond’s arms much like she did your own, and he reaches down, scooping her up in his arms and holding her against his waist. There’s a swooping feeling in your stomach as he approaches, the heat returning to your cheeks. 

“How are my girls?” Aemond asks as he moves closer. 

You move to the other side of the blanket, scooping Maelor in your arms as he begins to bang his fists on Helaena’s hat.

“We’re having a tea party,” Jaehara tells him, “Muña saved a spider. I said she should kill it.” 

Aemond chuckles softly at her pointed tone. 

“Your mother would never,” he says, setting her down on the blanket, “And you?”

You glance up at him, surprised he addressed you, “Me?”

Aemond nods, holding your gaze, “How are you?”

You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as he continues to stare, piercing gaze never leaving your face. 

My girls.

“I’m well,” you answer.

Aemond joins you as you sit back on the blanket, the spider no longer disturbing your peace. Jaehaera dotes on him, she loves her uncle dearly you can tell. You return Maelor to the bassinet as his eyelids begin to droop, rocking it side to side with your hand as he begins to drift off to sleep. 

Jaehaera places a saucer on Helaena’s stomach before balancing a teacup on top of it. Helaena barely raises a brow as Jaehaera wedges a lemon cake onto the plate as well. Though she doesn’t thank her daughter, she brings a hand to the corner of the cake, tearing off a piece and placing it in her mouth.

Aemond sits straight up, balancing a teacup on his knee as Jaehaera stands behind him, combing her fingers through his long, platinum hair and twisting small braids throughout. You hadn’t realized how long he kept it, it’s usually in a bun when you see him, but now silver waves cascade down his shoulders to the middle of his back.

“We should head inside,” Aemond mutters, “The clouds are gathering.”

“A storm is coming tomorrow,” Helaena murmurs.

“How’d you know?” you ask and Helaena’s mouth ticks upwards. All Targaryens seem to have the same smirk.

“She always knows,” Aemond says, smiling softly as his elder sister.

In sleep, someone speaks to you. Whispers in your ear, breath hot like flames licking against your flesh words you do not understand. 

A scream pierces through the night and you awake with a start. An ache begins behind your eyes and you press the heel of your palm against your forehead. You catch your bearing, sitting up and blinking as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Realization washes over you.

Helaena.

She’d been taking a second dose of her sleeping medication ever since Aemond spoke with her psychiatrist. Had she missed a dose this evening? You quickly rise from your bed, not bothering to grab your robe and flinging open your door. 

The hallway is dark, and no moonlight spilling through the windows tonight. You reach out, holding onto the wall as a guide as you move further down the hallway. 

A shuffling noise behind you makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your breath hitches and you turn around, staring into the dark behind you. You can’t see anything, just pitch black. You should’ve left a light on in your room, something to anchor you. Your hands begin to tingle as adrenaline speeds the beating of your heart. 

There’s nothing but darkness, you assure yourself, the dark can’t hurt you.

But you can’t shake the feeling that as you look down the hallway, someone….or something…is looking back.

You release a shaky breath, turning back around. Something moves toward you, this time you’re certain. And suddenly a hand covers your mouth blocking the scream that rises in your throat and slamming you into the wall. It's not too hard, just enough for your shoulder blades to make a solid thump against the wood. 

Aemond catches your fist in his opposite hand as you attempt to strike him, pushing your wrist back against the wall above your head. Your eyes widen when you realize it's him, cheeks blazing with rage and embarrassment, your body sagging with relief. 

His hand remains on your mouth, though for a moment you’re sure it’s your scream tearing through the halls. Your stomach drops at the agonized wail and you squeeze your eyes shut. Aemond’s hand slides down until your chin rests in the space between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers are pressed so tightly against your throat you’re sure he must be able to feel your fluttering pulse. 

“Hela--,” you begin to speak but are cut off by the return of his hand over your mouth. 

“Shhh,” Aemond insists, as your eyebrows crease with confusion.

You mumble incoherently against his palm, lips pressing against the calloused flesh. Aemond presses closer, his tall slender frame towering over you. You cease trying to talk, your thoughts muddled as the warmth of his body presses against you. Aemond dips his head so his lips rest against the shell of your ear. 

“That’s not Helaena.”

It would be intimate, sensual even, if it weren’t for the words he spoke in that low whisper. A feeling of dread washes over you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Shh,” he says once more, his lips grazing your ear, “Close your eyes. Stay very, very still.”

You don’t dare move, you don’t dare speak; you simply do as you’re told, squeezing your eyes shut. Trembling against him your fingers dig into his arm while the other remains trapped in his grasp over your head. Fear burns in your belly, so hot it's as though someone is stoking a fire right in front of you.

Aemond presses closer, your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest, nipples hardening at the stimulation through the thin material of your tank top. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so frightened. Your heart is beating like a rabbit’s foot, and you try to listen to the sound of Aemond’s breathing in your ear as some way of grounding yourself. 

A groan echoes from down the hall. 

Your grip on him tightens.

“It’s alright,” Aemond murmurs, his voice barely audible, “We’ll just let them pass.”

Your breathing stops.

Let them? Let what? Let who?

The heat intensifies around you, colors bursting behind your eyelids as though someone is shining a light on the pair of you, though you don’t dare open your eyes. You cling to Aemond’s command like a life raft despite your morbid curiosity. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that before the light begins to fade, the warmth leached from your skin as whatever passed you moved on. The hall is silent, your ears are ringing and all you can hear is each shaky inhalation of your breath. It’s not enough. It feels like all the air has been sucked from the hall like you’ll never breathe again.

“Y/N.”

What was that?

“Open your eyes.”

His voice. Aemond’s voice. The only thing that makes sense.

You open your eyes.

The hall is dark and you blink, adjusting. Aemond releases your hand and your arm falls, slightly sore and tingling with pins and needles from being held above your head for so long. He uncovers your mouth as well, taking a step back.

“Are you alright?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice. 

You don’t answer, frozen. Aemond cups both of your cheeks in his hands, thumbs smoothing away tears that fall. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying. Aemond’s brows knit together and you bring your hands to his wrists. 

“What was that?” you whisper, voice hoarse.

Aemond’s expression is pained. 

“There are things I haven’t told you about Harrenhal,” he says softly, releasing your face.

“What kind of things?”

“Unpleasant ones,” he continues.

You hold his gaze. If there was ever a chance to run from the manor screaming, this was it. Aemond watches you as though he expects you to run, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You know him already, know that if you chose to leave he wouldn’t follow you. He’s used to doing things on his own. It’s all he’s ever known.

It’s your choice.

Aemond lifts his eyes to meet yours as you reach for his hand. His fingers release automatically at your touch and you weave them through your own, holding tightly, anchoring yourself to him.

“Let’s get some tea then,” you tell him, “I want to know everything.”

note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

ACP taglist: @aebi12 | @lokiofasgard12 | @darkenchantress | @echos-muses | @kaelatargaryen | @zenka69 | @heavenly1927 | @boofy1998 | @snh96 | @zillahvathek | @minttea07

bold means I could not tag!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 🖤

[irkimatsu]

God will never stop my sinful hand. More Husk/Reader! Clothes stay on but it's still spicy, gonna call 18+ on this one. Husk gets to nut his pants, good for him. You and Husk make out, you discover that his wings are an erogenous zone, and good times are had by all. Completely gender-neutral reader, nothing to point it in any direction gender-wise. This is about making Husk moan, that is all

Your relationship with Husk has progressed over the past few months.

What state it’s progressed to, you’re not quite sure. You’re far from the point of declaring undying love for each other; hell, Husk is hesitant about the word “love” in general. He doesn’t want to say it, and he doesn’t want to hear it. You haven’t had sex with him, either; you have no idea how you’d ask, and he hasn’t broached the subject himself.

But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t done anything together that could be construed as special. Even if he’s in no rush to define whatever it is you two have going on, he’s still shown you plenty of his romantic side. He likes taking you out for dinner and shows, events that are way too fancy for you to merely think of them as friendly outings.

The amount of times you’ve come home from a play to immediately make out in one of your rooms, before falling asleep in the same bed, made things seem even less “friendly”.

You didn’t even need the excuse of a date to start making out. Some nights, like tonight, all it took was some drinks and conversation at the hotel bar before you were both sure that the rest of the hotel was asleep or otherwise absent. As soon as he knew it was safe to close down for the night, the two of you headed up to his room for some soft jazz music and some tender, passionate kissing. He used to be so withdrawn with you, as if afraid you’d shatter if he touched you too firmly, but he’s gotten more bold recently, taking it upon himself to hold you close in his arms.

There’s no way you’d tell him, but you prefer cuddling with him when he’s dressed down like this, only wearing suspenders without a shirt. His fur is so soft and warm, and the fewer layers of clothing between you and it, the better.

You know to be careful with your compliments. He’s confided in you that he can’t stand what he’s become as a demon, and that he wishes he still had his human body.

But you can’t deny it. Some of your favorite parts of him, physically, are the parts that aren’t human.

His hat came off his head shortly into the proceedings, so you’re free to comb your hand through the tuft of hair on his head. It’s much more messy and wild than it is on your dates; he has zero reason to style it when he’s wearing his hat. You love it like this, though. It’s one of the softest things you’ve ever touched. Could human hair ever glide beneath your fingers this wonderfully?

You’re trying not to think of it as “petting” him. You know he hates that word. Perhaps “stroking” would work better for him? You stroke the top of his head, then move down to scratch the back. He stays calm, still kissing you like normal, so you keep moving until both of your hands reach the backs of his ears.

He jolts back from the touch.

“Sorry!” you cry out immediately. “Was that too far?”

“I’m sensitive back there,” he says, one ear still twitching from the contact. “Could you warn me next time?”

“Sorry!” you repeat. You know his irritability isn’t personal against you, but you still hate hearing that tone from him…

“It’s fine,” he says, quickly softening now that the shock is wearing off. “I didn’t hate it. You just gotta warn me before you do stuff like that.”

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He’s smiling again as he pulls you against his body. “Mind doing that again, now that I’m expecting it?”

You nod, and as he resumes kissing your mouth, you go back to scratching his ears. It’s a weird feeling, being able to touch someone like this during a make-out session; but you appreciate the novelty, especially when every inch of him feels so perfect beneath your fingers.

“Can you go lower?” he asks. “While scratching like that?”

You accept his request, scratching your way from his ears to his cheeks. His fur is so thick here, and it’s hard for you to pull your hands away from how divine it feels, but you have so much more to explore. You continue your scratches down to his neck, then to his shoulders. One of his suspender straps slips off while you’re scratching, and you’re dying to see how he looks when he’s slightly disheveled.

But looking would require you to stop kissing him, and you’re not ready to stop yet.

You’re so eager to feel even more of him. You touch him lower, reaching the small of his back and rubbing the spot where his wings meet his body.

He gasps and pulls away from you again. It takes him a moment to catch his breath.

“Husk?” you ask, not entirely sure what you did but already regretting it.

“...shit.” He exhales heavily. “Shit. Haven’t been touched there in a long time…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh…” he laughs nervously. “Not wrong, but… you probably shouldn’t do that. Not unless…” He stops himself and shakes his head. “No. You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” It didn’t look like it hurt him…

“It’s… an intimate spot.” Even through his fur, you can see him blushing. “Wings are sensitive. You shouldn’t touch them unless you want to turn somebody on.”

That information, combined with the sight of him with his suspender straps hanging off his shoulders, is turning some interesting gears in your head.

A playful smile grows on your face. “So what you’re saying is, if I want to turn you on…” You lean in closer, but don’t touch him yet; it’s up to him to close the gap if he so chooses.

Husk swallows. “If you want to…” He places his paws on your sides, holding you as timidly as he did when things first started. “I don’t wanna rush you into that, though.”

“You’re not rushing me.” You gently kiss his nose and scratch one of his cheeks.

You think you hear a purr in his throat, but you know better than to bring it up.

“Then go ahead,” he says, uttering it quickly to reduce the amount of time he has to spend not holding and kissing you. You quickly get back into the rhythm of things, repeating your hands’ earlier motions. He remains calm as you scratch his ears, his cheeks, his shoulders…

His waist bucks up into you when you touch the base of his wings, but he doesn’t pull away.

You start out slowly and fleetingly, not sure how much pressure he needs to feel the effects of your touches. Clearly it doesn’t take much. Within seconds, he’s squeezing you tightly and moaning into your mouth.

Where else is he sensitive, you wonder? You slowly run your fingertip along the edge of one of his wings, and his whole body shivers against yours.

“Fuck…” he mutters beneath his breath before kissing you again. “Gentle…”

You follow his request, lightly petting his wing with a single finger. It’s still enough to get him to kiss you harder and keep cursing under his breath. You run your finger back down to the joint and start pressing, steadily becoming more firm in your touch to test his reaction.

You eventually reach a point that makes him cry out, then breathe too heavily to kiss you anymore.

“Fuuuuuck…” His eyes are unfocused, and he seems unsure of what to do with himself. “Give me a second…”

You take your hands off of his body to let him compose himself. Once he’s finally aware of his surroundings again, he rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your waist in his arms. He’s nuzzling his soft cheek against your neck, and you don’t know if it’s making you feel more ticklish or aroused.

Both? Fuck, definitely both.

“Could you scratch under them?” he asks.

You place your hands beneath his wings and begin to scratch the joints from that angle. His feathers brush against your hands as he lightly flaps to your touch, and his hot breaths on your neck are rapidly increasing in strength and tempo.

“Harder,” he moans through gritted teeth, and you comply. The sounds he’s making now are downright lewd, mixed with the occasional inhuman growl. He’s grinding his waist against your leg, and even with his pants still on it’s obvious how excited you’re making him. His current behavior is so undignified for the gentleman who’s been taking you on dates and playing you songs for the past few months.

It’s a side of him you want to see even more of.

“Fuck, I can’t stop…” he squeezes your leg between his own and grinds furiously, his rapid breaths turing into high-pitched whines. “Fuck, fuck-”

You keep on touching him, delighting in how badly it’s making him squirm. 

“Gonna- fuck-” He lifts his waist as if he’s trying to pull away from you, but the death grip his legs have on you won’t allow it. “I can’t-”

“Go ahead,” you assure him, rubbing his wing joints just a little harder.

Whether it’s from the touch or the permission, you’ve awakened something inside him. Still a mess of growls, moans, and whines, he latches his mouth onto the side of your neck and starts nipping while his hips grind furiously into your leg. You moan along with him, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself stable just as much as they are to please him. It’s not long before he’s moaning against your neck as a wet spot pools in the spot where he’s still humping you.

He falls limp in your arms, and you immediately relieve the pressure on his wings, instead choosing to gently stroke his lower back. His breathing is heavy, but steady as he nuzzles into your neck again.

“Fuck…” His vocabulary isn’t the most varied right now.

He seems so spent after that, so you carefully lay him stomach-down on the bed, making certain not to give his surely-sensitive wings the slightest bit of stimulation. He folds his arms beneath his chin, and he laughs.

“Haa… gotta do that again. It’s been forever since I felt that good…”

You’d love to cuddle him in this state, but until you can figure out how to do that without disturbing his wings, you’ll settle for sitting next to him and watching him relax.

“Hey… Husk?” You ask. “I wanna ask you something…”

“Hm?” He doesn’t open his eyes as he answers.

“Would you have let someone else do that? Would you have enjoyed it as much?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s frowning in concern, forehead creased, but still not opening his eyes.

“It’s just… I don’t know what we are. Are we together, or…?”

He reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “I don’t like putting names on this stuff. It’s just asking for trouble. All I know is that I only want to be touched like that by someone I really trust, and right now, the person I trust that much is you.”

“And if you trusted someone else…?”

He’s laughing again. “Someone else, when I have you already? Not happening. Come on. Lay down with me.”

You lay on your stomach beside him, and he drapes his arm around you and pulls you against his side. His wing descends on you, and he winces slightly from the touch, but it’s not enough to keep him from covering you like a blanket.

“And you know…” he continues. “Not that I wanna control you… but I’d like knowing you don’t touch anyone else like that.”

“Someone else, when I have you already?”

He makes a low, amused noise as you parrot his words back at him. “Okay… good.” He squeezes you close and kisses your cheek. “Now, tell me something else.”

“What is it?”

“I wanna return the favor. Where should I start?”

[thezombieprostitute]

Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU

A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?

The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.

The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.

"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.

"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"

He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"

"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."

"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.

"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."

"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."

"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"

"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."

"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."

"Metaphorically?"

"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."

"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."

"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."

"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.

"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."

"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."

"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."

“No I'm not.”

“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”

“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 

“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.

“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 

“What the hell is going on?”

You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 

“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”

“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.

“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 

He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 

“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”

“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”

“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”

Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 

He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”

He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”

He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 

The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 

He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 

His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 

Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”

[kana-daydreams]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 || 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨(𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐀)

summary: Zoro surprises you with a compliment and you express your appreciation with a surprise of your own—by unintentionally stealing his first kiss. genre: fluff cw: added just a li'l bit of spice wc: 3.3k kana's notes: This was originally suppose to be a drabble, but ig I couldn't help myself😓. Anyways hope you enjoy my fellow Zoro lovers :D

“Told you it was a waste of time.” Nami drawls as she continues to peruse through racks of clothes searching for an outfit to wear for tonight’s dinner while you sit, sulking in a corner next to a discarded heap.

“You don’t have to rub it in y’know.” You lift your head from off your knees to peer up at your friend with a pout. “I’m already regretting all my past decisions.” You say, feeling heat bloom at your cheeks as you recall the couple of model worthy poses (well at least you think they were) you’d mustered up the courage to perform in front of a certain green-haired individual as you tried on multiple styles of clothes ranging from cute to elegant along with a few that showed off some skin— none seeming to had piqued the swordsman’s interest. Not even shamelessly batting your lashes had been enough to earn an ounce of a reaction from him except for his concern that something might have gotten stuck in your eye.

You release a stifled cry at the embarrassing memory, plopping your head back down onto your knees.

“Why did I have to fall for someone incapable of giving a girl a decent compliment?” You say, your words muffled by the fabric of the outfit you’re wearing.

Fishing for compliments wasn’t a habit of yours and seeking validation for your appearance, especially from a guy, definitely wasn’t either. You knew you were a hottie— by your standards anyways. It’s just that you really had somewhat of a thing for Zoro who you’d known for some time now, and hearing him compliment you for just once in your life, no matter how small it was—even if it was only a single word—would be more than enough to send you, having lived a fulfilling life, right to heaven’s pearly white gates.

“C’mon, it’s not the end of the world.” Nami crouches down at your level, giving you a tender pat on the head and you peek an eye open at her to notice that she’s changed into a beautiful and traditional chinese dress; its red colour complementing her ginger-orange hair. 

“I’ve already told you, you look great. Sexy and cute— a deadly combination.” She gives you a wink and you giggle lightly at the action. 

“Thanks, Nami.” You smile.

“No problem.” She lightly pinches your cheeks before standing to her full height. “Now let's finish getting ready, shall we?” She extends a hand down at you. “I have a bet to win.”  

You playfully roll your eyes, remembering her bet with Luffy before taking her hand, the two of you making your way out the grandeur of the closet.

Later at night, under the dazzling lights of a grand chandelier, you and the rest of your newly formed crew along with Usopp—a boy you and the others recently befriended—stand scattered about the spacious foyer of Miss Kaya’s home, awaiting the birthday girl’s presence as you mingle and indulge your taste buds with lavish delicacies being served around on silver platters. 

While you and the crew wine and dine, Zoro stands amongst his own company near the staircase, nursing in his hands, his fourth glass of cocktail—deep brown eyes pinned on your form standing beside Luffy and Usopp.

He watches as you converse with them and as you chow down on platter after platter of food like it’s the last meal of your life alongside Luffy, his gaze drinking in your every smile, your every laugh and the adorable expressions you make as you stuff your cheeks full with every bit of food that comes your way.  It makes him wonder if you and Luffy are having a full on eating competition at the rate the two of you are going.

He only takes his gaze off you when he realises his glass is empty after he goes to chug some of the liquid down, discarding it onto a nearby end table laden with a few more empty glasses alike.

His eyes then search across the room for the server, wanting to satiate his taste for more alcohol, flitting over in your direction when he hears the sound of your voice calling his name. 

“Zoro, you’ve gotta try these!”

Zoro watches as you approach him with animated steps and glances down at the tray you carry in your hands to see chocolate, pink and milk-white covered squares.”

“Is that cho—”

“Yes! And it’s really good!” You bounce on the balls of your feet, the action making Zoro suspect that you’d had way too much chocolate than your sweet tooth could handle. 

“Here, you should try this one.” 

“Chocolate isn’t really my th—” Zoro cuts himself short when he sees one of your hands pick up a chocolate-coated square, offering it to him.

He looks down at the piece of chocolate pinched lightly between your fingers, then back up at your face beaming with a wide smile and then around the room at everyone occupied either in conversation or eating, before returning to settle his gaze back onto you. 

He heaves a sigh. “Does it have alcohol?”

“I don’t think so, but I can go ask if there's any wi—” 

“No, it’s fine.”

Zoro stops you before you can leave, and you watch as he leans forward a bit, shuts his eyes and slightly parts his lips, his actions causing your head to tilt slightly in confusion.

Your questioning look, however, doesn’t last long, slowly fading away and morphing into one of surprise when your brain registers the purpose of his actions.

You almost heave a cough, feeling heat creep up your neck; burning at your cheeks while your hand remains extended with the chocolate held between your fingers as you continue to stand there, unmoving, simply staring up at him— up at a sight you never quite expected to see or would ever see. 

When Zoro doesn’t feel any sign of sugary sweet pressing against his lips, he peeks an eye open to see you staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

“What are you waiting for?”

“N-Nothing!” Your voice immediately squeaks out.

Zoro only lets out a hum at your response before once again closing his eyes, waiting for you to feed him the chocolate square.

You swallow hard. And your heart rate picks up as you inch the chocolate closer to his mouth, its beat increasing more so when the tips of your fingers brush against his soft lips.

When Zoro feels a sweet warmth mixed with a hint of salt melting against his tongue, he doesn’t have much of a reaction and simply opens his eyes to look down at you.

“I-It’s good? Isn’t it?”

Zoro nods. “Yeah.”

Silence.

“Okay, well, um..I’m gonna go,” you say with a nervous chuckle, pointing a thumb behind you. “Gonna see what else they uh, gotta eat.” You slowly start to reverse your steps, bumping into the server behind you as you do, almost knocking her over along with the full platter of food in her hands.

You profusely apologise to the woman who sends you a disapproving glare before continuing with robot-like movement back in the direction you came, unable to see the hint of red that colours the tips of Zoro’s ears and also the way his gaze lingers on your retreating figure, all the while he stands there regretting that he still couldn’t find the courage nor the right words to tell you how beautiful you were in the outfit you’d chosen to wear tonight, and how cute, pretty—and sexy you looked in the many more he had watched you try on. 

When Kaya’s birthday dinner unfortunately comes to an early close due to her outbreak of rattling coughs, she’s kind enough to allow you along with your friends to stay the night unlike her overprotective butler who wasn’t keen on extending your stay, especially after Luffy and his big rubber mouth revealed that you were pirates.

However, instead of lying, snuggled under the thick, warm blankets of a queen size bed, you traverse through a dim-lit hallway in search of the kitchen to help yourself to a midnight snack.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on looking for Luffy.” You murmur to yourself as you continue to amble along the empty halls with no sense of direction as to where you were going, involuntarily releasing a gasp when your body suddenly collides into another, one more firmer than your own, just as you round a nearby corner.

You look up at the figure that slightly towers over your form, a much less startled expression on their face. 

“Z-Zoro?!” You breathe a sigh of relief at the swordsman’s presence. “Thank the heavens you're not that scary butler. What are you doing here?” Your eyes dart down to the three swords attached to his right hip.

“I’m looking for a drink.” Zoro watches as you place a hand across your chest, attempting to calm yourself down from the jumpscare he’d unintentionally given you. “What about you?”

“Food hunt.” You look back up at him with a small smile.

“...Right.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as you notice Zoro’s gaze fall behind you and on instinct, you turn around to see where his eyes follow. 

“Where’s Luffy?”

The swordsman expected that if you were here; Luffy was here, as the two of you seemed to be joined at the hip everywhere you went, especially when food was involved.

You turn your gaze back to him. “Back in his room, I guess.” You say, your hand no longer attached to your chest trying to calm your racing heart. “I did plan on inviting him, but I don’t know where his room is.”

Something that wasn’t your fault since you were the first to be assigned a room and didn’t get to see where the others’ rooms were. 

“So…” you drawl and Zoro glances down at you to see your lips curve into a mischievous smirk. .

“Since Luffy isn’t here...” you continue. “Wanna be my partner in crime instead? You know, help me scour the kitchen for some gold?” You suggest, with a slight wiggle of your eyebrows.

Your words seem to pique the swordsman’s interest as similar to you, a smirk pulls at his lips and he makes a gesture with his head for you to lead the way and you do, him falling in step beside you.

Apparently, you taking the lead was not the best idea when it came to navigating through a house designed like a maze—a fact you should have known with hindsight—as you and Zoro still continue to roam around the mansion like headless chickens for what seems like about an hour. 

“Why is this place so huge?!” You groan and release somewhat of a frustrated cry, already feeling the urge to quit your endeavour of a kitchen raid. Though, you do not act on the tempting idea since you have no clue of the direction you and Zoro came from—the soft grumbles of your stomach doing little to curb your frustration.

Zoro, as he walks beside you, remains silent at your mini-breakdown, his head craning in your direction when he hears you speak again.

“By the way,” You start. “How was the party?” You ask, trying—key word, trying— to keep your mind from being occupied by the thought of food and mostly because you couldn’t let the opportunity of your alone time with Zoro slip past you.

“The alcohol was good.” 

You wait to hear if he will add more, but he doesn’t, not surprised that his reply ends rather abruptly.

“Yeah, it was.” You agree.

Zoro arches an inquisitive brow. “You drink?”

“Not exactly. But the mocktails were great and so was the food.” You smile and so does Zoro, one so faint that your eyes fail to catch it, when he recalls the happy expression on your face as you devoured any and everything that passed your way; continuing to listen at the soft and vibrant melody of your voice that fills his ears.

“...and what I loved most of all were the desserts, especially those choco..lates.” Your voice suddenly falls when the memory of you feeding Zoro pops into mind, together with how soft his lips felt when your fingers brushed against them.

“Something wrong?”

You glance to your right to see that Zoro is looking at you with a concerned expression, your face warming from his attention.

 “Ah, N-No. Nothing’s wrong.” You reassure him with a small smile. “Just got sidetracked, that’s all.”  You go silent shortly after your response when your eyes make the mistake of flickering down to his lips and quickly turn your attention away from him, dropping your gaze to the ground.

Zoro doesn’t know what causes your sudden silence which prolongs as you both continue down the hall, but he does know that he misses the sound of your voice which leads to him racking his brain for a topic that might be interesting enough to get you to speak again, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.  

“That outfit you wore tonight—It was nice.”

The words you think you hear Zoro say makes you slow to a stop.

When Zoro notices you’re no longer walking beside him, he turns to see your shock-filled features, immediately feeling himself go pale, and starts to regret the words that just spilled from his mouth—words he’d held back from telling you at Kaya's birthday dinner the entire time his eyes were glued on to you. 

“W-What did you say?” You recover just enough to ask.

Zoro, who stands no more than a few feet away from you, looks back at you and ponders if he should just play it off due to your reaction, but tells himself that doing so would be a cowardly move—and he was not a coward.

He directs his head to the side to keep his face that flushes a light shade of red away from your view. “The outfit you wore at dinner. It looked really nice on you.” He says again, his voice seeming to struggle to get the words out.

You feel heat rush to your skin.

So you did hear him right the first time.

You replay Zoro's words in your head before nervously raising your gaze to look at him. “So, um…” You fidget a bit where you stand. “You think I looked pretty?”

Zoro visibly flinches at your question, still very much avoiding any eye contact.

“Yeah.” He manages an answer after what seems like a couple of seconds. “You always look pretty.”

At his response, a full and goofy smile blossoms on your lips. Then, without thinking—so overcome with joy at Zoro’s one in a lifetime compliment of you that it pushes most of your nervousness aside— your footsteps start moving closer towards his direction, and you tip-toe, just a little to reach his height, aiming at showing your appreciation for his words by gifting him with a kiss on his cheek. 

However the supple softness that your lips meet when you kiss Zoro is not the softness of his cheek, but that of his lips instead when he suddenly turns his head in your direction.

Both Zoro’s dark eyes and yours widen at the realisation and you stumble back, away from him, watching as he touches a finger to his lips.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that!” Your face steams as you attempt to explain yourself for the accidental kiss. “I-I was just trying to give you a kiss on the cheek—not on your l-lips.”

Dread fills you when you realise that Zoro doesn’t have much of a reaction towards your words and all sorts of thoughts race through your mind at what he might be thinking about the indecent act.

Though all your worries subside when Zoro eventually decides to speak.

“Can…we do that again?” 

Your eyes become saucers at his request. “W-what?”

“I..I want you to kiss me again.”

You almost choke.

Never in this lifetime or any lifetime would you think the stoic swordsman would utter such a request—one that you will be more than happy to fulfil, despite your buckling knees.

 “A-Are you sure?” 

In a few steps, Zoro closes the distance between you both; a gasp leaving your lips when you feel his strong arms snake around your waist pulling you into his larger frame.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

Your heart races as he silently stares down at you, noticing his gaze flicker down to your lips, then slowly back up to meet your eyes.

Heat creeps up your neck at the action, settling on your face and increases ever so slightly at the feeling of the heat that radiates off of Zoro's skin through his clothes from his body being flush against your own.

"You don't want to?" Zoro asks when he notices your somewhat hesitant expression. "It's fine if—"

"No. I do, I do." You rush out, reassuring him that the feeling is mutual. "It's just..." You hesitate. "I've never kissed someone. Well except for you—just now." You smile sheepishly. "I...I might be bad."

Zoro's gaze softens at your words. "Same goes for me."

You feel your heart swell and warmth rise to your cheeks. "That..I was your first?"

Zoro answers you with a single nod, the blush deepening on his face.

You let the revelation sink in: You were Zoro's first kiss.

A reality you can't help but take a moment of silence to relish in as you remain caged between Zoro's arms and the comforting warmth of his body, a warm smile subconsciously gracing your face.

"Can you close your eyes?" your voice comes out barely above a whisper when you're finished relishing in the moment.

Zoro's face wrinkles in confusion. "Why?"

"Because I want to kiss you. "Your voice quavers a bit as you speak. "Won't it be weird if we do it with our eyes open? Though if that's your thing—"

"No. I'll close 'em." Zoro says as his eyes immediately flutter close. And with his eyelids pressed shut, you can't help but stare back at him, admiring every inch of his handsome face and the deep blush that paints its tan skin.

Gingerly, one of your hands reaches up to caress one side of his face as you lean in, swallowing lightly when your lips near his, but pause just before they could meet. "You're really sure about this, right?" You can't help but ask the question again just for good measure.

Zoro shudders a little from the soft touch of your hand against his cheek, and also when he feels the warmness of your breath brush against his lips a few inches away from your own.

He doesn't answer your question immediately and it makes your heart sink that he might be having second thoughts until you feel his lips press tenderly against yours in a feather-light kiss.

The sudden action renders your body somewhat into a state of surprised stillness. But only for a beat, before your eyes flutter close, hands circling Zoro's neck as you lean into the kiss that starts off slow with you both savouring the taste of each other; before it escalates into one more confident, filled with longing and passion.

And the next day after you and Zoro shared a heated kiss at midnight in the dim lights of a lone hallway—forced to pull away, when Luffy unexpectedly popped out from nowhere— you both sneak a quick kiss at the shipyard, where eyes cannot lurk, before joining the rest of the crew who’d acquired a new member to its team, aboard its first ship—The Going Merry.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

reblogs appreciated🥰

[kairismess]

Hii!! Can I request Hinata with childhood best friends to lovers with a fem! s/o? I'm in love with soft pining stuff and Hinata so why not put two and two together ✨✨

Btw love your writing!!!

hearts' day 003.

from his best friend to his girlfriend, his one and only.

"oh, her? she's my best friend! well... at least i think she's just my best friend..."

shoyo had never thought twice about what you were to him, whenever someone on his team, in his class, or any of his close friends and family members asked him about you, he never hesitated to say you were his best friend.

you were his best friend in the sense that he couldn't remember what life was like without you, it was like you were always just with him, and to imagine his life before you... it didn't feel right, like every happy, good thing that happened to him, ever sad, gut-wrenching memory he has, you were always there to support him, to comfort him, to laugh with and cry with him.

he had always admired you, for every little and big thing you did for and with him, for every memory you two shared together, it was like you were the most comforting constant in his life–the warmest ray of sunshine in is life without even realizing it.

whenever the orange haired boy spoke about you, he always had the biggest, brightest smile on his face; always had the happiest voice when he told stories about you two, and never stopped complimenting you, never stopped describing you in the sweetest way possible.

and only when others kept pointing out how his feelings for you were probably a little more than just friendly feelings... he soon felt the butterflies flying around in his stomach, the fuzzy heat in his cheeks, and the unbearable urge to want to hold you in his arms, be your strength, your refuge, for as long as you'll let him be.

he couldn't find the courage to tell you right away, because you two had been friends for so long that it just felt a little weird to him to suddenly go from being your best friend to suddenly your best friend who had feelings for you. he overthought so much when he was around you during that time, there were so many things he wanted to do for and with you, but he could never quite take that first, pivotal step to letting his feelings for you be known.

but of course, no secret of his could ever be kept from you for too long; and so... he confessed to you one starry evening when you were at his place, with his parents and natsu fast asleep, the two of you outside in the backyard, just lying down on a picnic blanket under the stars. he let out his heart to you, expressed how he just couldn't not love you, because... you were everything.

you were beautiful, you were smart, you were kind, you were loving, you were... you. and that was more than enough reason for shoyo to love you more than anyone he's ever loved before.

and from that evening forth... he finally felt free. he finally felt like you two could soar together, that's how he felt when you made the first move and became the girl he shared his first kiss with. and now, he can't imagine the rest of his life without you.