#it's much worse with women who easily attract men's attention. Makes her feel like her veins are full of battery acid.

[starfoam]

❤ - What's something you feel like your muse needs to work on for a relationship to happen or for a relationship to be healthy? Do you think that's possible? Or is it something that'll likely never happen?

Envy. It's not jealousy in the sense of fearing someone would take her partner away, but a deep-seated sense of inadequacy, particularly in comparison to other women. It is something she's working on, but there's still a sting every now and again where she looks at another woman and feels small. She tries not to let it interfere with her friendships, but it's gonna be a long way until she finally silences the voice telling her that there are others who have more to offer.

[loganwritesprobably]

– Sanji with the 2° genre, prompt (u.) 🍡

You know, I never would've paired this prompt with Sanji, but I think its more harsh nature pairs itself well with a masculine reader, so that's what I'll do! This ended up being pretty long so everything is under the cut

Since this is the first one I'll be posting like this I'll just explain - anything where you only requested one character, I assumed was to be paired with a Reader, since I struggled with making a lot of them work as a solo thing.

Content/warnings: Sanji/M!Reader, hurt/comfort, getting together, reader is insecure, Sanji is kinda cruel at the start whoops, Sanji has a gay awakening

You'd been acting off all day, you knew you had, and while the crew hadn't mentioned it you were aware they'd noticed and that they were beginning to worry. Generally, you kept in high spirits. Not today. It wasn't any much, your insecurities had just been getting to you lately. You also felt ridiculous for letting that spoil your mood all day, which was only making your mood worse. You were the least attractive person on the crew, in your opinion (outside of Chopper because who is calling a kid attractive). Most days, you let yourself be confident in the fact that it didn't matter because that didn't make you ugly and you had a good personality so why did looks matter. Some days it bothered you anyway.

You were docked at an island while the log pose set, and pretty much all of the crew had received attention from people (of their preferred gender and not), outside of Chopper, but again, he didn't count (and he'd still had a group of teenage girls call him cute). You? You'd not gotten a single comment or even a look. It just made your stomach twist. It was stupid and you knew it, but it was eating you up inside. Worrying about that just led to more worrying about other things and you were spiralling a little even if you were attempting to pretend you weren't. It wasn't working.

"What's your problem?" Sanji asked as he emerged from the kitchen having just finished cleaning all the dishes from lunch.

"I don't want to talk about it, Sanji." He'd not gotten much attention from women, but oh boy had Sanji gotten attention from men. He'd brushed every one of them off, rather unkindly, and that hurt too. You'd had a bit of a crush on Sanji for ages now, but moments like that told you that you couldn't ever share that fact with the cook.

"Then stop moping! It doesn't help anything, and it's not great for the mood on board." He retorted with a roll of his eyes, and you rubbed a hand over your face with a sigh. You didn't want to lash out, but you really didn't have the emotional availability to be kind in that moment.

"Sorry Sanji, my bad, I'll just pack it all up and ignore it all - God forbid I have fucking feelings." You snapped, pushing off the railing of the Sunny where you'd been leaving to walk away. You didn't want to deal with his shitty attitude today of all days.

-·—·-—-·—·-

You'd hidden away to calm yourself down, then taken a shower to release some of the negative feelings you'd had pent up. Residual negative emotions lingered, of course they did, but you were more prepared to push them aside and put on a happy face. You emerged on the deck and sat down with Robin to talk about the book she'd been reading, allowing yourself and your better mood to be more easily seen by the crew.

"What happened? You really looked upset." Nami asked after a few minutes, having come to sit in her usual spot beside Robin.

"Oh, nothing. Just had a chat with Sanji." You said with a shrug, smiling at them as best as you could.

"I hope you're not spoiling these ladies days with your foul mood." Sanji said as he appeared with two drinks, one for each of the ladies in question. Robin and Nami snapped their heads to look at him, unbelieving he could be so cruel.

"No don't worry Sanji - I took your advice and just got over it. Won't catch me moping again. I'll keep that to myself from now on." You replied, mock kindness on your face and in your voice. You weren't going to start an argument with him, but that didn't mean you couldn't be passive aggressive at least. He fixed a hard gaze on you, but kept his smile in place. Wisely, he said nothing, and left the drinks for Nami and Robin before swiftly returning to the kitchen.

-·—·-—-·—·-

You spent the rest of the day avoiding Sanji, even having asked Robin to save you a plate of food so you could eat away from the rest of the crew and mainly away from Sanji. She'd delivered your plate loyally, and just gave you a smile before leaving you to eat in peace.

Eventually though, the plate did need to be returned to the kitchen. It'd long since gone dark, and you were just hoping that Sanji was elsewhere by now.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," you heard muttered from the kitchen, pausing outside to listen to whoever was so frustrated inside, "can't even be nice just for once. He just makes me so-" it was Sanji, of course it was. You weren't sure what else you'd been expecting. But he was in there, scolding himself, and it sounded like he was doing it over how he'd treated you.

You didn't knock, just pushed open the door and let yourself in, plate still in hand. Sanji stopped stock still, staring at you as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. You gently set the plate down on the table, pausing for a moment before turning as if to leave again.

"Wait-" Sanji called out, making you pause. There was another beat of silence while the cook found his words.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, hesitating before continuing, "I was unnecessarily cruel. You didn't deserve that."

"Yeah." You simply said, because just saying that wouldn't make him forgiven. You'd never done anything to him, you'd both just always had a joking friendship, where you'd take playful jabs at each other. They were never genuinely cruel.

"I just-" he paused again, fighting with himself to find his words, "you make me.. feel a lot of things that I don't know how to deal with. I just look at you and it all.. bubbles up inside of me and for some reason the only thing that ever gets out is something mean. What I said earlier was too far, and I am sorry. I was just worried." He finished, and you finally turned to face him. Sanji was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was fighting not to put them elsewhere - his hair your brain helpfully supplied.

"Okay," you started, nodding slowly, "but that isn't a good reason. You didn't even try to get me to tell you. You didn't probe at all, you were rude when you asked what was wrong and then accused me of ruining the atmosphere on the Sunny. That's what you told me and best you can come up with is you were 'feeling a lot of feelings'?" You asked, growing more and more angry, but also more upset. You knew you couldn't have Sanji the way that you wanted him, but you'd at least wanted him as a friend. Maybe that was too much to ask for.

"I'm sorry! I'm not good with words - I can't make my brain tell my mouth what I'm thinking and I really want to help you understand even if you don't forgive me." You would forgive him, you knew you would, this would be petty to lose him over and would jeopardise the crew. But you couldn't be the same after this.

"Try."

"It's different than with other people. You feel- you make me feel different. I don't understand why. I just look at you and it's like.. the whole world stops moving for a minute," Sanji leaned forward, resting his hands on the table and stared right down at the wood rather than looking at you, "I've never felt like that before. It's scary. How am I meant to deal with something I don't understand? So I'm mean to you instead because maybe then it'll go away? I know it sounds stupid. And then when we're out and people look at you.. something just comes over me. I hate it. I just glare at them until they back down because they're not allowed to look at you like that."

You understood suddenly what Sanji was talking about. All this time you'd been so sure of what you couldn't have and in the background Sanji was having his gay awakening because of you. You were desperately trying to hold back, but you couldn't help laughing. He shot up straight as if he'd been struck, wounded by your laughter.

"I'm sorry- I know this is serious. I promise I'm not laughing at you, just the situation really. Sanji.. you have a crush on me. That's what that is." You told him, slowly approaching to close the space between you two.

"No! I- I like women." He defended, but he was hesitant, as if your words had given him clarity.

"Sure. But you also like me."

The two of you stood, silent, staring at each other. You, waiting for Sanji to decide what the next move was, and Sanji, processing the new information. In retrospect, he realised it was a little obvious.

"I acted like a little boy pulling on a girl's pigtails." Sanji muttered, suddenly a little humiliated.

"Yeah, a little bit." You agreed, and the cook just sighed. You both fell into quiet laughter finally, the tension of the entire situation drifting away.

"So uh.." Sanji started after a while, you let him find his words before responding, "what now?"

"That's up to you. I've liked you back for a damn long while now, but you've only just realised. You can go and take your time to process that new part of yourself if you w-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before Sanji's lips were on yours for the first time.

Yeah, now you definitely wouldn't be the same after this.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[wtfevenismypage]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”

Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)

A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!

The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.

“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”

You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.

“I need a drink after this.”

“You and me both Morgs.”

“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”

You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.

 “I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”

You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.

You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.

“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”

They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.

“How much sugar tonight Reid?”

You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.

“A lot.”

You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.

“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”

You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.

“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”

Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.

“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”

-

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(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)

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A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.

“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”

“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”

Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.

“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”

You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.

“How long?”

She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”

Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.

“Wait really?”

Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.

“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”

You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”

“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”

Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”

“Then tell us about one time.”

Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.

“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”

Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully. 

“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”

Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.

“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.

-

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When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.

“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”

Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch. 

“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”

You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.

You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.

You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.

“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”

Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.

-

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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.

“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”

Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.

“And what is your plan?”

“One of us hooks up with him!”

You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.

“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”

“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.

“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”

He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.

“What can I say? I’m curious too.”

You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.

“I say Y/N does it.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”

“Guys no I-”

“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”

You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.

“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”

You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.

“Please girly? Pretty please?”

Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.

“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”

You stop and think about it for a second.

It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.

And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.

And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker. 

But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.

“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”

They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.

Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.

“Why’d you switch places?”

He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.

“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”

He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.

“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”

You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.

In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.

He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment. 

He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.

Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.

In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.

He wants this.

You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?

You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.

The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.

“I need to talk to you.”

Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same. 

A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.

-

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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?

He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”

Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.

“Do it.”

Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body. 

His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly. 

“Shit Spencer...”

You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.

You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.

“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”

You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.

“What do you want baby?”

You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.

“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”

 You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.

His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.

He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.

“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”

You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.

“You know what they say.”

He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.

 “Please Spencer! Please please please!”

You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.

Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.

“Shit!”

He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.

A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.

“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it.”

It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.

Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips. 

“Wha-”

You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.

“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”

You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.

“Words baby.”

You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.

“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”

You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully. 

It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.

Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.

“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”

You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.

A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.

“Oh... Holy crap!”

You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.

His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”

“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”

You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.

“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”

His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.

“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”

Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind. 

A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.

A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.

You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder. 

“S-Spencer!”

You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.

He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.

If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.

You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck. 

Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.

“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”

You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves. 

Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful. 

It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 

He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.

Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.

“Well, did I pass your test?”

You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.

“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”

He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.

“Need help cleaning up?”

You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe. 

“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”

“See ya.”

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Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.

Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.

“So?”

Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.

“You were wrong.”

You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.

You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan

[kpostedsum]

daddy issues; D.M

summary: you and draco bond over issues in 6th year

word count: 2.4k

warnings: err angst, comfort, illusions to sex

song: daddy issues (the remix) - the neighbourhood

a/n: i tried not to make it stereotypical bc i didn’t wanna make it seem all “i like older men lol”, probably my fav fic i’ve written, also arent these anime gifs so cute

masterlist | taglist

Take you like a drug

I taste you on my tongue

Tongues battling for dominance, bodies rubbing against each other searching for a feeling. It’s become routine now, a different person in your dorm swallowing a new pill, entangling limbs with someone just to feel something.

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

Tell me something that I'll forget

And you might have to tell me again

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

It was a constant cycle, putting yourself out there seeking the male attention you crave, seeking validation, constant reassurance and trusting too easily. That’s how you ended up with a different guy who always in the end leaves. You trusted too easily and people took advantage of how trusting and naive you are just for a quick shag.

You wished it wasn’t like this but that’s all you knew, wanting to be the best version of yourself for someone just to feel needed, no matter if the person was good or bad for you. You didn’t care, you wanted love from anyone you could get it from even if it just hurt you more.

You’re familiar with the absence, something stable made you feel a bit wary. It wasn’t something you were used to. Your father wasn’t the most present in your life, and even though he's there, he's never really there.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

You always wondered where you went wrong, he preferred your siblings over you and doesn't pay you a piece of his mind. Constantly going out of your way to get his attention whether it was academically or acting a certain way just to get some sort of reaction. But he was too preoccupied with his other children, even if they were from your mom or his affairs.

That’s how you found yourself right now sitting in the astronomy tower past curfew watching the rain fall, trying to clear your head while humming softly to yourself to keep yourself distracted.

You hear distant chattering from below and quickly get up from where you were sitting and make your way to your dorm unnoticed by anyone.

Except one person, Draco Malfoy.

I tried to write your name in the rain

But the rain never came

So I made with the sun

The shade

Always comes at the worst time

He’s seen you before, you’re known around Hogwarts for how you put yourself out there and how ‘desperate’ you are for some affection. He almost feels bad for you, but he’s in no place to judge. With his dad in Azkaban Draco had so much more to worry about, like his task and how he can succeed. But there was something about you that intrigued him that he couldn't ignore.

He saw you again in transfiguration the next day and noticed a few hickeys littering your neck that you had tried to cover but it didn’t work. He wondered why you gave yourself up to so many people, but once again he was in no place to judge. He noticed the way your tongue would stick out when you focused extra hard, the way your hands would tighten around your quill when you got a question wrong and your face.

The same face that many boys including the older years would fawn over, the face that entranced and attracted many, the face of someone who would do anything for someone for some affection and the face of someone who seeked out all the wrong things.

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

Tell me something that I'll forget

And you might have to tell me again

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

You walk out of transfiguration on your way to the owlery to send a letter to your parents and feel eyes watching you everywhere. You like it, the attention, it’s something that you thrived in, but you couldn’t help but feel a new set of eyes on you.

Once you reached the owlery you realized you weren't the only one there, Draco Malfoy was also there sending a letter to who you assumed was his mother.

“y/n, right?” he asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“Yea, listen i’m sorry about what happened with your father i know you really looked up--”

“Dont worry about it, he wasn’t as good an influence as I made him out to be,” he sighed, looking away.

“My dad isn’t the best either if i’m being honest, i guess we’re in the same boat” you let out a light chuckle.

And that’s how you found yourself hanging out with draco malfoy bonding over your shared issues.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues

It’s been weeks since you two started hanging out since the interaction in the owlery and have been getting closer ever since. You both sat down together in the astronomy tower, backed against the wall as the cool wind blew against your faces. The aura between you two was calm, a comfortable silence.

“So tell me about your dad, how is it with him in Azkaban?” you asked, tilting your head towards him.

“Mother’s not taking it well” he frowned. “I can’t even say potter’s wrong for getting him locked up because he deserves it. All my life he praised the dark lord and taught me to be selfish and always defend my blood, but he was never there for me when I needed him. I would have done everything just to hear ‘i’m proud of you’ but it never came. It’s worse now because mother’s all alone. I wish I could have stayed with her” he sighed looking out the tower watching the stars twinkle.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been much quieter this year as well, you stopped making fun of people. It’s not that nice on the receiving end huh?” you said with a teasing look on your face.

He shook his head at you scooting closer to you, it’s like the demeanor between you two have changed over the past few weeks. You found yourself pining over him rather than being in someone's bed. But this is how the cycle always goes, you get attached and they leave, you couldn’t help but hope this wasn’t the situation this time.

“Tell me about your father”

Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present

Cheated on your mom but she never left him

First I didn't get it, now I understand

He broke her heart, left money in her hand

So everything got paid for

She made sure you and your brother had way more

Than she ever had growing up

And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

“ I don't know if i’d even call him my father at this point, he doesn't want me.” you sighed. “He's been cheating on my mum for years now and she still won't leave him because she thinks they can work it out. He’s had affairs with different pureblood women and has children with them. But what hurts the most is how he treats them as his own children and treats me as if I don't exist” you said, looking down as tears pooled your eyes.

Draco moved closer to you and brought his arm around your shoulders for a sense of comfort and waited for you to catch your breath so you can continue.

“I just want him to love me” you cried. “I go out my way to try and get his attention with my school work but it never works. That's why I get along with so many guys. I seek the validation, the comfort and the reassurance that I can get from him from others and I am so tired of it. I just want him to want me draco.” tears slipping out your eyes as you looked up at him, you’ve never confessed this to anyone before.

“Everyone always leaves, please don't leave me” you cried

“I’m not going anywhere” he turned his face towards you, leaning forward cautiously as if you were made of glass.

You leaned forward, wanting the exact same thing. Both very hesitant he gently pressed his soft lips against yours and they moved together in sequence, only taking a break to go back to his dorm and to breathe, limbs tangled together for the rest of the night until the sun rose.

I can see it on your face it was rough left a bad taste on your tongue

And she didn't even take any drug

She would rain all day

Couldn't wait for her son to shine

And you made it shine

There when she cried, you saved her life

It's been a week since that night in the astronomy tower and draco had already been avoiding you. It’s humiliating, but you should have known. You thought the ‘bond’ you had with him would last, it felt so genuine this time. So real.

You’d see him around the halls snogging pansy on your way back to the ravenclaw tower, lowering your head down so he wouldn’t be able to see you so you could get by quickly and unnoticed.

But he saw you.

He stared you right down in your teary eyes as he made out with pansy. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, for someone who promised he wouldn’t leave you like everyone else, he did the exact same.

You did the only thing you knew of, you ran.

I keep on trying to let you go

I'm dying to let you know

How I'm getting on

I didn't cry when you left at first

But now that you're dead it hurts

This time I gotta know

Where did my daddy go?

I'm not entirely here

Half of me has disappeared

Draco followed you to the girls lavatory, hearing your shallow cries coming from one of the stalls. He approached the stall you were in trying not to make too much noise so he doesn't startle you.

He felt awful.

He promised he would never leave you, after you both poured your hearts out to each other but he still left. He had too, he was putting you in danger just by being with him. If Voldemort ever found out about you and hurt you he wouldn't be able to live with himself, that's why he took it upon himself to hurt you first.

“y/n are you in here?” he called out even though he knew the answer.

You recognized that familiar voice anywhere. “What do you want draco?” you said, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t just crying.

“I want to talk to you, please”

“No,” you said getting up and pushing yourself out of the stall. “You don't get to just throw me away after I told you everything and just come back into my life like nothing ever happened. Just go away, that's all you guys are good for” you spat.

“Just listen to me, it was to keep you safe. I didn;t want to but i couldn't bear seeing you hurt” he tried to explain.

“Safe?” you laughed. “ and what exactly do i need saving from, malfoy.”

“From me” he said as he pulled up his sleeve revealing his dark mark to you. Your body instantly tensed, you knew he was having problems and his family was involved with the dark lord but you never knew it was like this.

“Draco i-” you tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat. He stood there looking at you desperately like he was waiting for you to tell him everything was okay, you wanted to be there for him but you didn’t know what to do. You trusted him with everything but he couldn't trust you with this? You thought the bond you had made would have made him trust you in the slightest, but clearly it's always you who’s more trusting.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

“I thought you’d leave me, you were the only good thing i had. Please don't leave me” he begged, salty tears escaping his eyes and running down his cheeks as he looked at you with desperation.

“So you thought pushing me away by snogging pansy was better?” you yelled, as he continued to look at you slightly taken aback by your lashing out.

“You know what, go ahead and cry little boy. You know that your daddy did too, you know what your mama went through. You gotta let it out soon, just let it out” you taunted walking closer to him looking straight into his teary eyes.

“This time I'll be the one that leaves.” and with that you were gone.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

It’s been months since that night in the girls lavatory, and you missed him. You wanted to visit him in the hospital wing once you heard what happened with Harry Potter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. He left you, and you were tired of always going back to people who just hurt you.

Now here you were at the battle of Hogwarts, standing with everyone while Voldemort and his death eaters stood across from you all.

“Draco, draco come here” you heard narcissa call from across the scene. He looked hesitant, as if he was waiting for someone to stop him but no one did. So he started walking over to his parents.

But you grabbed his hand.

“Stay please” you whispered looking up into his eyes.

He looked back at his parents and back at you like he was contemplating his answer.

“I’ll stay”

If you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

—————-

tagging fun ppl nd ppl who interacted (so srry if u don’t wanna be tagged)

@hellohellook @astoria-malfcy @justfangirlthingies @sfdlm @falling-loki @notvasi @gwlvr @malfoytookmyheart

[fanfic-archive]

Meeting the Baron (2/7)

Chapter 2. Madripoor

Summary: When the Baron takes your search to Madripoor, the four of you are forced to play your roles. A role that brings you much closer to Zemo than you ever thought you could be comfortable with, but is it entirely an act?

(Yes, we're doing the fake dating trope. I don't care if it's overdone, I'm obsessed)

Part 1

Word Count: 4696

Zemo had provided each of you with, what he deemed to be, appropriate disguises. Bucky’s was fairly simple, just enough to make him look like the Winter Soldier, but Sam’s suit was brighter and apparently very much the style of the Smiling Tiger, not that he was a fan. You had instantly become hesitant when you opened the package that Zemo had handed you, staring at the black dress and strappy heels in disbelief. You knew that you had to keep up appearances, the people you would be meeting only understood three things, power, money, and women. Still, how were you meant to react if something went wrong while wearing this.

Putting on the garment only made you less sure. The dress was fitted to perfection, which was curious to you since Zemo never asked for your size, and the material was soft to the touch. It ended above the knees and had thin straps over your shoulders, it was more revealing than something you would usually wear but the length kept it surprisingly classy. You actually looked like the Baron’s partner rather than a date for one night. The dress itself wasn’t that uncomfortable, just impractical since you couldn’t hide a gun under it, and you were a little surprised by how good it looked on you, but the shoes were the bigger problem, being impractical. You wouldn’t be able to rush somewhere too easily.

Once you finished getting ready, you put on the necklace that Zemo had left for you and headed back out into the main room. Of course, the Baron’s date would need to have some sort of jewellery to really sell it.

“Finally” Sam sighed when he heard the door open and close behind him, the three men turning to you.

“What? Don’t look at me like that” you complained, noticing the surprised looks on Sam and Bucky’s faces.

“Just haven’t seen you all dressed up before” Sam shrugged. “And I thought I looked overdressed” he joked.

“You look good” Bucky complimented, hoping to make you feel more comfortable.

“Thanks, Bucky” you chuckled, shaking your head at him. “But of course, you haven’t seen me in anything like this before, I’ve never had the opportunity and if I could afford all of this, I would have retired by now” you pointed out, making them both laugh a little. You made a fair point.

“I, for one, think I made a perfect choice. You look wonderful” Zemo complimented, making you all look over at him. “Are you all ready?” he asked as he approached the three of you, holding his hand out for you to take.

“We aren’t there yet, keep your hands to yourself” you reminded him.

“Apologies” he nodded, lowering his hand. “But once we get out of the car, we all need to be in character” he warned the three of you, who just nodded in understanding.

A car picked the four of you up and dropped you off just outside the meeting place, and this time when Zemo held his hand out to you, you took it and let him help you out of the car. He offered his arm to you and you took hold of his elbow, letting him lead the way, Sam and Bucky following behind.

You couldn’t decide what was worse, watching Bucky fight while pretending to be the Winter Soldier or watching Sam drink whatever it was that the bartender gave him. Both were painful, and while witnessing each you had unconsciously gripped Zemo’s arm a little tighter, and he had pulled you a little closer each time. Luckily, while at the bar, Zemo had gotten you something a little sweeter than Sam’s drink.

Finally, Selby agreed to meet with you all and you were sent through to see her, but things only got more tense.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands” Selby spoke as the four of you entered the room. She sat comfortably on one of the couches, arms draped over the back cushion, watching you all like she was trying to read you.

“Not a demand. An offer” Zemo corrected her.

“A lot has changed since you were here last” Selby claimed as Sam crossed to stand on one side of the room while Bucky positioned himself on the other. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” she asked curiously.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered as he sat down on the couch opposite her, guiding you towards him by the hand. Without speaking, he was looking you in the eyes, as if to convey the choice that he was asking you to make.

You took a small, unnoticeable breath before quickly making a decision, placing yourself comfortably on his lap. You’ve surely done worse.

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for” he continued, wrapping one arm around your waist to keep you steady and placing his other gloved hand on your bare knee. An attempt to be respectful while still being convincing.

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger” Selby suddenly turned her attention to Sam, who only responded with a nod.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him-” Zemo got her attention back onto him, gesturing to Bucky, his offer to her “-along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately but tell me…would she do anything I want?” the attention was suddenly put onto you as Selby stared you down, putting you on edge. You couldn’t help but tense a little, this wasn’t part of the plan and it unsettled you.

“This one only sings for me” Zemo informed her, his hand inching up your thigh slightly to prove his point. His touch left goosebumps in its wake, which you tried your best to ignore but you were sure that he noticed it.

Knowing you had to sell this, the hand you had on his shoulder lifted to play with his hair (though, not enough to mess it up) while you placed your other hand against his chest, smiling sweetly at him. Yes, you had noticed his attractiveness before, but this was the closest you had ever been to him and the longest you had been looking at him, and it only left you admiring him a little more. Luckily, you could blame it on acting if anyone noticed. Plus, his cologne was invading your senses and you found it oddly comforting.

“That’s a shame” Selby hummed. “But you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or…condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but things didn’t go as planned” she informed him.

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked but your attention turned to the hand he had returned to your knee when his thumb started stroking little circles against your skin.

“Oh. The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me” Selby shook her head in disapproval. “Maybe we could work something out if you could make your little bird sing” she suggested, eyeing you again, and you couldn’t help but lean closer to the criminal who’s lap you were sat on.

“Go on, Liebling, answer her” Zemo prompted, giving your thigh a small reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry, but I only have eyes for one person” you claimed with a convincing smile, gently resting your head against Zemo’s shoulder. You would straddle his man right here in front of everyone if it meant she left you alone.

“And she is not a bargaining chip” Zemo insisted, holding onto you a little tighter, almost protectively. That brought a more genuine smile to your face.

However, when you glanced over at Selby, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t entirely convinced; you couldn’t tell whether she was trying to uncover your act or just find a weakness in your supposed relationship that she could exploit to get what she wanted. Your grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, trying to convey your concerns to him. It did seem to get his attention as he turned his face towards you as you lifted your head from his shoulders, resulting in your faces ending up a little closer than you expected.

Now or never. You had to sell this act if you wanted all of this to go smoothly. You lifted your hand, tracing your fingers alone his jaw as you put on your best love-struck smile. Zemo was watching you carefully, he knew what your possible moves were from here and while it surprised him, he would let you make the play.

So, you lent in closer as your fingertips reached his chin, lips hovering just over his. The hand on your knee brushed upwards, gloved fingertips touching the hem of your dress. Any longer would be suspicious, and so you closed the gap and touched your lips to his. You had made the move, you had kissed him, and so Zemo allowed himself to take the lead.

The hand on your thigh tightened as he deepened the kiss, what surprised you the most was that you returned the advancement, your hand cupping his jaw to hold him closer. You simply couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him and how this just didn’t feel as wrong as you thought it would.

While the moment felt disconnected from the others and endless, in reality it hadn’t been that long at all. And while it was beginning to feel easy to forget about where you were, you didn’t, slipping your hand down from his jaw and too his chest as you pulled away.

“Well, don’t let us interrupt you” Selby teased but she seemed to be fully convinced now. The comment put a slight blush on your face, but you figured it worked for the act, so didn’t worry about it. You still avoided looking at either Sam or Bucky, not wanting to see how they were looking at you after that little show.

Selby finally seemed to give up on getting anywhere in that deal, she wasn’t going to get her hands on you, and the conversation could continue.

As Zemo and Selby spoke, you fainlly spared a few glances at Sam and Bucky. Bucky was still in character, though he seemed even tenser than before, but Sam managed to sneak a small look in your direction that silently asked if you were okay. You gave him the smallest of nods before disguising it by resting your head against Zemo’s fur collar.

Things were going well, that was until Sam’s sister called him and your covers were blown, resulting in Selby’s death. All four of you knew that you had to get out of there as soon as possible, you had made it out of the building with no trouble and were walking down the street when people started shooting at you all, wanting to claim the bounty for Selby’s killers.

The four of you reacted the only way you could, you knew that you couldn’t fight back and win right now, so you all ran for cover. Bucky and Sam bolted ahead but Zemo had supplied you with thin heels, causing you to stumble on the uneven ground. You cursed to yourself, only to have somebody pull you off to the side. It was almost too quick for you to process but Zemo had wrapped an arm around you and pulled you along with him, in a different direction to the other two.

The two of you kept your heads down, slipping off into an alleyway before deciding that it was safe enough to slow down and speak. It seemed that the bounty hunters had mostly followed Sam and Bucky.

“I can’t believe you made me wear these stupid shoes” you complained as he guided you through the alleyways of Madripoor, he obviously knew where he was going.

“I thought they looked nice” Zemo weakly defended himself but sounded confident in his claim.

“Sure, but not so great when you’re being shot at” you scoffed.

“If your friend had turned off his phone, none of this would have happened” he pointed out but that didn’t make you feel any better about the situation.

“We better be going to find them” you warned him.

“Of course” he nodded.

When you were sure that nobody was following you, the two of you slowed down a little and focused on regrouping. You followed Zemo, your attention focusing on him when you saw him reach into his coat and pull out a handgun just in case you had been followed.

“When did you get a gun?” you asked, catching up to him and glaring up at him.

“I picked it up” he shrugged.

“Hand it over” you ordered, holding your hand out.

“No” Zemo answered as he glanced at you but kept walking.

“Yes. You’re a criminal, I’m not letting you have a gun” you stated the obvious as you came to a stop, grabbing his arm to stop him too. “Give me the gun” you demanded once more as he turned to you.

“If I don’t?” he asked, almost playfully.

“Are you…are you joking? Give me the damn gun” you thrusted your hand out towards him again.

“At least ask nicely” he chastised.

“…please?” you sighed, giving in.

This time he didn’t hesitate before placing the gun in your hand. “Very good” he praised before turning and continuing down the alley. You watched him in disbelief before continuing to follow him.

“You also didn’t warn me that it would get cold in Madripoor before parading me out here half dressed” you complained as you caught up with him again, a cool breeze blowing past you.

“I would not parade you around” Zemo stated sternly, almost like he was offended by the accusation. “And in my defence, I expected to be back in a car by now” he reminded you.

You just hummed in response, unimpressed with his excuse, while wrapping your arms around yourself for some extra warmth. The gun still in your hand since you had nowhere to put it.

“My apologies for not coming more prepared” he apologised as he came to a halt, causing you to stop too. Without another word, he slipped off his coat and held it out to you.

“Not necessary” you mumbled, shaking your head as you turned down the offer and walked past him.

As you passed him, Zemo carefully draped his coat over your shoulders. Not letting you go cold simply due to your stubbornness.

“Thank you” you still gave the Baron a small, grateful smile before slipping your arms through the sleeves, already feeling much warmer. His cologne lingered on the garment, making it all the more inviting, but you tried to ignore that feeling. Zemo returned your smile as the two of you continued navigating through the various alleyways.

Finally, you reunited with Sam and Bucky, where they had run into a familiar face. Sharon, you had heard of her but had never actually met her before. She took you to her place where you could stay for a little while, she also happened to be hosting a party of sorts that same night, so she offered to let you all change. Meaning you got to change out of the uncomfortable dress and into some black pants and a simple black top. Simple but enough to make you fit in. You had also changed out those flimsy heels for a more comfortable pair of boots.

“Ah, much better” you let out a sigh of relief as you walked into the room the others were sitting in.

“What is wrong with the dress? It looked good on you” Zemo questioned, taking in but still approving of your new look.

You gave him a sarcastic smile before realising he was the only one of you who hadn’t changed, but you guessed that he was the only one of you who was wearing his own clothes in the first place. “Are you not changing?” you asked him as you handed him his coat back.

“Should I?” he asked, gesturing to his own attire.

“…suits you” you shook your head, and you weren’t lying. He had certainly found a style that suited him.

Zemo smirked to himself as he placed the coat down and turned to pour two drinks, keeping one for himself while holding the other out for you.

“Hey, just leave her alone, alright?” Bucky warned him, obviously still on edge from your performance earlier.

You just laughed to yourself and accepted the drink, already becoming more comfortable around Zemo than you probably should be.

Sam managed to talk Sharon into helping you all out, she promised to look for information but in the meantime all you four had to do was enjoy the party.

When you joined the party, you had shared a drink with Sam and Bucky but at some point, the two of them ended up wandering off to explore by themselves. You remained at the bar, nursing your drink, and just enjoying being able to relax for a moment.

Sipping from your glass, you looked around the dance floor, watching the guests dance until your gaze landed on Zemo. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, his dancing was awkward, but he seemed completely comfortable, not caring if anyone was watching him. But it didn’t seem like anyone was, all caught up in their own worlds. It was difficult to see this man as the criminal he truly was when he was dancing like…that. It just made you smile.

After a moment of watching him, he met your gaze, realising that you had been watching him. He only smiled and beckoned you over. Your eyes widened slightly, that just wasn’t a good idea, but he beckoned again as he continued to dance.

You contemplated it for a moment before finishing your drink, stepping down from the barstool and walking in his direction. You carefully pushed through the crowd until you reached the Baron. It might not have been a good idea, but you wanted to see how this went.

“Is this how all Barons dance?” you asked, speaking just loud enough for him to hear you over the music.

“Is there something wrong with the way I dance?” he asked, now pumping his fist in time with the music.

“You’re the lamest criminal mastermind I’ve ever met” you insulted him, but he didn’t seem to take it seriously, he just continued. “God, this is embarrassing” you laughed, shaking your head at him.

Zemo smiled at making you laugh before trying to draw you in, “then show me how you would dance.”

“Oh no, I don’t dance” you shook your head, quickly trying to get that idea out of his head.

“Apparently neither do I” he joked, making you bite back another smile, but this time he held his hand out for you.

You glanced down at his hand, like you were considering it, before looking around a little, like you were doing something wrong. Maybe you were.

“Worried that your friends will catch you? Worried about what they would think?” Zemo asked, noticing the way you glanced around.

You had to make your decision, so you did. “No” you answered, placing a hand in his to reaffirm your answer.

“Don’t worry, let’s just pretend that you’re still playing the role of my date. You do play it well, after all” he suggested, letting you step closer before actually placing a hand on your waist and pulling you closer.

“Careful, or I’ll turn you in” you threated, hoping he didn’t notice the slight pinkening of your cheeks, but still placed your hands on his shoulders when he released your hand.

“We’ll see” Zemo had a little smirk on his face as he slipped one hand around to sit on the small of your back, looking at you like he knew something that you didn’t. The action brought you a little closer, causing you to snake your arms around his neck. What could possibly be wrong with one dance?

The two of you were lost in the crowd, other guests shielding you from Sam or Bucky catching a glimpse of you both. Turns out, Zemo was holding out on you because he was apparently a much better dancer than he let on. You weren’t lying about not being a dancer, but you didn’t feel lost for a moment, because he guided you through it, moving with the music. If you were being perfectly honest, it was the most fun you had had in a long time. Which was strange considering the circumstances that brought you to Madripoor and the man who you were dancing with.

Unfortunately, your time at the party was cut short when Sharon came for you all. She had gotten some information and the location of Dr Nagel, and while that was very helpful, a part of you actually wished that you could have a moment longer with Zemo on the dancefloor.

Neither Sam or Bucky gave you a questioning look or anything, so you assumed that they hadn’t seen you together. And so, you all climbed into the car and headed to the location Sharon had heard about.

The four of you headed down into the secret lab while Sharon remained outside to keep lookout and fight off some of the bounty hunters that were still after you all. Inside the lab was the doctor you had been searching for and, with some persuasion, he had explained that Karli had taken all the remaining vials of serum with her and he had none left in the lab. Twenty vials to be exact, she had twenty vials and you had no way of knowing how many super soldiers she had already created with them.

That was when Sharon came running in, alerting you that you were running out of time and there where bounty hunters already outside. Before anyone could react, Zemo had pulled out a gun and shot the doctor, and then before anyone could do anything about it, the lab was attacked.

An explosion sent you all flying to the ground, hands scraping against the floor as you tried to soften your fall. Your vision slowly returned to you and you gathered your senses, looking around enough to see the flames that were engulfing the lab. A sense of panic set in as you pushed yourself off of the floor, looking around for any sign of the others.

You could see Sam, Bucky, and Sharon had been knocked down by the blast but they seemed to be alright as well, though you would all probably be rather bruised.

“Anybody see Zemo?” Sam asked with a slight groan as he lifted himself up.

You looked around the burning lab and managed to catch a glimpse of the Baron escaping. “I’ve got him!” you assured them as you climbed to your feet, lifting your arm to shield your face from the heat as you followed after him.

“Y/n” Sam and Bucky both called after you but you were already gone.

As you exited the lab, your ears were still ringing, and the blast had been disorientating. You couldn’t see where Zemo had gone, cursing yourself for losing him, but you readied your gun and kept your wits about you.

Movement on top of one of the shipping containers caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but feel a little sense of disbelief when you realised what you were looking at. It was Zemo, wearing a purple mask, with a gun in his hand. He aimed down from the container and shot a pipe that resulted in another explosion, you stepped back behind another shipping container to avoid the blast from it.

Peering around the container, you saw Zemo climbing down from the container he stood on to fight off a group of bounty hunters. He fought better that you thought he would, with skill and a certain amount of ease, and you hated this part of your brain but…it was kinda hot…

Tearing your gaze away from him, you noticed another bounty hunter rounding a corner and aiming their gun at Zemo. Before they could pull the trigger, you stepped out and shoot them. The gunshot got the Baron’s attention, making him turn to you.

Zemo approached you with a sense of urgency, placing a hand on your shoulder as he turned you around and escorted you with him.

“Where do you keep getting guns from?” you asked as he dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I have an eye for them” Zemo shrugged, the mask hiding his facial expressions from you.

“We have to go back for the others” you told him, looking over your shoulder to see that the scene was out of sight.

“They will be fine” he assured you.

“We’re not leaving them” you insisted, beginning to turn on your heel.

“You’re right” Zemo caught your arm, stilling you. “Just trust me” it was a big ask considering his history, but you still nodded and turned back around, continuing to follow him.

Eventually, the two of you came to an open shipping container. Looking inside, you saw a car, either he had planned something like this, or he had incredible luck. Zemo removed his mask, putting it in his pocket, before the two of you climbed into the car.

“I would like to apologise for last night” Zemo spoke up as he started the car

“What for?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“For if I made you uncomfortable at all during our meeting with Selby, it was not my intention” he explained himself, pulling the car out of the unit.

“…you didn’t” you assured him honestly. A part of you wished that you had felt uncomfortable, that was how you were supposed to feel, but it wasn’t at all. You felt far too comfortable around him.

“Good” he nodded.

“We were just playing are parts” you added quietly but it sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than him.

“Very convincingly, might I add” Zemo hummed, glancing over at you.

“You might not” you mumbled, making him smirk to himself.

Sam and Bucky watched as the car pulled up in front of them, Zemo in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s seat.

“Supercharged” Zemo smiled as he put the car in park, though the three of them seem less impressed with your arrival.

“I told you I had him” you grinned, earning a short look from the two men.

“You’re going back to jail” Sam threated Zemo.

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” the Baron asked with an exasperated sigh.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s three of us, and at least twenty of them” Bucky pointed out.

“He’s been useful so far and he hasn’t run yet. Now, come on, get in” you nodded towards the backseat.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again…” Sam began to warn but was interrupted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Zemo assured him half-heartedly.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion” Sharon commented as Sam and Bucky climbed into the backseats of the car.

“Come back to the States with us” Sam offered her.

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me” Sharon nodded before walking away.

“Thanks for everything” Sam called after her before getting more comfortable in the back of the car.

“I think you’re warming up to me” Zemo commenting, looking to you.

“I think you need to shut up and drive” you told him, putting a small smirk on his face before he complied and drove off.

Meeting the Baron Taglist:

@viviace​

(Just ask to be added!)

[violetnotez]

Haaaaiiii! I don't know if you've done this before, but can you do a headcanon with Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kaminari (separately) dating a slim thicc reader who's waaaaay to kind to everyone for her own good? Sorry if that was specific lol. It just suits my life.

HC: Slim Thicc + Overly Nice Reader | BNHA

Music Genre: Pop | BNHA

Characters: Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Shop Owner Note: The fuq how did you describe me in four words lmaoooo-I really liked this idea alot!!!!! Also I only did Bakugo, Izuku and Shoto caus emy brain got fried, so hope thats okay!

Midoriya

THIS GIF ISNT APART OF THE HC AT ALL I JUST FOUND IT AND NOW IM FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAYYYY😳😳

Midoriya most definitely drink his respect women juice

He was raised by his mother after all

BUT

doesnt mean the boy cant be a little perverted-

He just loves your body!!!!!

How can he NOT love everything about it, from the way your school tights slightly squeeze your thighs to the point where he feel like he cant breath

Or when you wear his shirts and its tighter around the chest and flowy around you waist

Mmmmmm lets not forget your hero suit- this man would probably kiss the shoes of the person who made your suit

Cause DAMN they really made it as tight as possible and he just loves it sm

Lets be real this dude has probably popped a boner by accident just thinking about your hero suit 😶

ANYWAYS 💀💀💀💀

He is very much respectful about you and keeps his raging hormones horniness to himself

He is ALWAYS making sure you feel comfortable in your relationship, whether its from holding hands to cuddling, he will always make sure you give your consent

Now, when it comes to your kindness, this is something Midoriya probably loves the most about you

But he does find it really concerning when he notices you say “yes” to everything somebody asks you to do for them

And running yourself down, not looking as energetic as yourself

He is very observant, so he notices little things that signal you are little overwhelmed 

Like your clothes arent as perfectly ironed as they used to be, you seem to be forgetting your own things while remembering to bring everybody else’s, your smile seems strained, and you just look stressed

He is so incredibly empathetic- it pains him to his s/o look so distraught 

It does anger him a bit that these people can so easily take advantage of you, and not even care that you arent feeling your best because of what they asked of you

But he swallows down the anger, offering to help you with whatever you need at your dorm room

He tries to make it as stress free as he possibly can, bringing your favorite snacks and playlist of music to calm your mind

But at some point hed give you a very gentle talk,,,,

He knows you havent been feeling too great, whether you deny it or not, and he wants you to know that its perfectly okay to not say “yes” to every person

He knows you mean well and you want to help everyone out of the generosity of your heart, and he loves that about you

But you as a person are important, and you come first over anyone

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Bakugo

Like Midoriya, just LOVES your body

Like cmon, how can he NOT

Dude is a ass+boob man change ma mind 

At first he deifnitely denies it-

Him??? Stare at your ass??? Pshh he was looking at the oven baka, if anything your ass was blocking his view-

You would know you caught him red handed cause he face would get redder than Momo’s hero suit and he would actually stutter—-

Which would make him extrmeely annoyed and he’d be cussing a storm+be in a grumpy mood for an hour or two

But once you two get more comfortable in your relationship-

NO HOLDING BACK

He will have use every opportunity to just be meannnn

And by mean

I mean turn slapping your ass into some sick game

Like if you dont yelp and cuss him out whats the point?

Once he slapped you so hard he legit left his big ass hand print on your butt cheek and you were about to slap his smug ass back....

But off a 50ft building  🙃

Also a big softie too

Like when you to cuddle he loves cuddling into your chest 🥺🥺

To him it’s just so comfyyyyyyyyyy

Honestly, Bakugo can’t understand at all how you can be so nice to people

It confuses him???? But he finds it really....nice???

Like half the stuff you do for people Bakugo wouldn’t ever dream of doing

He knows he’d either give that person an intimidating, dirty look or just laugh at them, cause yeah right he’d waste his time with their stupid problems

Ouchhhhhhhh

But you are totally different than him-you had a lot more patience and sympathy than he had, always coming to everyone’s rescue it seemed like

He finds it attractive and to him, it confuses the hell out of him how he does

But what bothers him is how much time you spend away from him

He won’t ever admit it, but he feels lonely when you’re not around

And what’s even worse-is by the time you do hang out with him, your too tired to even properly pay attention to him after running around and doing everything for everyone else

Bakugo the Attention Whore

One day this dude would have enough, as he’s been getting the bad end of the stick for a good couple of weeks——

He just barges into were ever your at, and doesn’t give to shits what so everrrrr

Bakugo has one mission in mind: getting his s/o back

Wouldn’t acknowledge anyone but you, grabbing your wrist and yanking you out of the room even if your protesting with him

“The hell are you doing Bakugo, let go-“

“No 😠”

“Pleaseeeeeee I was in the middle of working on something-“

“I said NO 😠😠😠”

Angry Pomeranian Activated

Once stop dragging you until he locks you in his room, forcing you to hear him out

He HATES being emotional or open, but at that, he starts spilling his guts through gritted teeth and choppy sentences,,

Saying that you waste too much time in thise “extras”, that they don’t deserve as much time as you give them, and that you have more “important” things than do all their work for them

*cough cough him being the more important thing

But hoenstly, you feel a little bad for him,,,,,

So you compromise with him and promise you’ll spend more time on him

He’s pretty happy with that,

but now he takes it one step further to make sure you deifnitely have enough time to hang out with him

If he’s around when someone asks you for help, he’ll cut them off and lie straight theough his teeth, saying you two have a “date” and squeezing you close to him with an iron grip

“Wait-Bakugo-we didnt have a date planned-“

“Tsch, now we do-“

Shoto Todoroki

I have said this timeeee and timeeee againnnn

But Shoto really is the definition of innocence

So really, it wouldn’t ever dawn on him on how killer his s/o’s body is

He’s just kinda like....yeah I know they have a butt and chest? Doesn’t everyone?😶

This poor Boi someone help him

It only really sets it after a few months of being together that he’s actually really, really in love with your body

Like how did he never notice how good you look in leggings?

Or how soft and comfortable your chest is?

And why does he want you to squeeze him with your thighs? 😳

Hormones are ragingggggg

And also veryyyyyyyy protective over you

Shoto is very observant and quiet in social situations, usually opting to check out his surroundings instead of trying to be sociable

So he’ll catch from time to time classmates commenting on you and your figure, and it never sits very well with him

At first when these incidences happened he was very conflicted, not understanding this intense jealousy and need to protect you

But after a while of contemplating his feelings, he understood it was because he was protective of you

And ohohoohohoh

This man is PROTECTIVE

He does little things you would never reallly notice until you actually do

Like when he takes you home after hanging out or a date, he lingers a little longer outside your door to make sure you’re inside safely

Or when you’re walking together he will make sure your walking inside the street and away from the cars

Also has a tendency to grab your waist or your hand when a group of men come your way

He just gets paranoid okay 🥺🥺🥺

And because he’s so protective, he doesn’t practically like that you’re being taken advantage of sometimes because of your kindness

Especially when it comes to other men

On a few occasions Shoto has spotted you in a sticky situation with a guy who was being a little too close for comfort

It would make you uncomfortable of course, you had a boyfriend you already loved a lot-

but you felt kind of bad just being a total bitch to this guy who desperately wanted a chance

So you’d just awkwardly laugh and smile with their stupid pick up lines, trying your best to be polite but also show you weren’t interested

But Shoto at this point has radar for when your in trouble, and just pops out of nowhere 💀

He’s not the type to flaunt his relationship by impulsively kissing you or anything like that, but he’ll show it in subtle ways

Like calling you “dear” or wrapping his arm around your waist

Honestly, the look of pure relief and comfort in your face shows more than Shoto could have ever done,,,

And that Shoto was deifnitely someone that was more than just a “guy fiend” and soemthing like that

Also Shoto would give them a look that could kill and that instantly scares the shit out anyone lmao

These dudes faces would deflate like balloons real quick, cause at this point everyone knows who Shoto Todoroki is

And how the hell can they compete with that

Instant “oh shit my bad” type energy

After those incidents, Shoto locks down way harder

He practically has you glued to his side, and he doesn’t let go

Like at all

Get used to it cause for the rest of the day Shoto is gonna be following you around like some body guard 💀

© Violetnote 2020

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

[vinylhazza]

Temptation (G.D)

Summary: Y/n is sick of being called frigid, having it shoved down her throat at every party and social gathering she attends. Her confidence is repeatedly broken, stepped on by the people that were supposed to be her friends. Grayson, a boy she’s had a secret crush on for years, is there to comfort her. 

Word Count: 13.8k

Warning: Strong sexual content, smoking, blowjob, drinking *sorry mr. tAkE cArE oF yOuR bOdY grayson* 

Pretentious jerks. That’s all they were. Teenagers that sat on their rich parents high horses, acting so above her every chance that they had. Robotic, inhumane, deceiving. But they were also mean, cruel, and unforgiving with their words more than anything else. They insisted it was all a joke - of course they would - said it was a system to break her into the ‘real world’. One she was sure she didn't want to belong to - not if it’s like anything they’ve shown her. Not if it’s full of sneaky spiteful assholes that didn’t care about anyone other than themselves. They insisted it was them being “good friends”. So why did it hurt so bad when threw their jokes, mockery, and snarky comments at her? Why did it hurt to not be included in on the joke but be the laughing stock of the party? Instead being on the outside looking in - to the one being laughed at. 

“You’re a prude, Y/n, just accept it,” they would say, a term that she’s heard for most of her teenage years. And she knew she should have ignored it, but it never sounded better no matter how many times she heard it. Never, was it used as a compliment - of course not. Because why was it okay to be a virgin? Why would it ever be okay to want more for yourself other than a quick fuck? Why did it have to be frowned upon and embarrassing? It was meant to put her down, not make her laugh, simply said to hurt her feelings because they knew it would. They knew she would think about it hours, sometimes days, after it floated out of their mouths and into the universe - the universe that refused to cut her a break. It basically defined her entire existence in the eyes of her “friends.” It was 1. Shouted at her or 2. Laughed in her face. No in between. They said it like they weren't meaning to hurt her, even if it did. Because, when would they ever have the capacity to know what was right and wrong? Why would she ever expect anything more than the life of a frigid ‘prude’? They thought it gave them a free pass when she laughed it off with them. She wouldn't let them know it cut her deep down to her core. But it had started to weigh her down, chip away at what little confidence she had built up. She thought that maybe when she got into college, it would get better, but it only got worse. 

Y/n wasn't the type to settle, thus making her very misunderstood. She wasn't what they called “frigid”. Time and time again they would throw around the word - and time and time again she chose to accept it for what it was. She just didn't want to bang it out with some random stranger like all of her friends did, instead wanting someone special that didn't just want her for her body - but saw her. Really saw her, for more than just a body. She knew it was cliché and sounded like it came straight from every romantic movie ever made, but it didn't make it any less true. She was eighteen for Christ’s sake, sitting in a room full of people that have been fooling around since they were fifteen while she sat quietly and tried to ignore the whole thing. It was humiliating. It made her sick to her stomach. It made her nervous. And most of all, it made her sad. She had never wanted to join in or acknowledge it. The thing holding her back? Her dignity: something she was very proud of. She also wasn't even the least bit interested in any of her “friends”. Romantically, and lately, even platonic. 

But you would never suspect her to be a virgin, untouched, innocent, with all of her soft beauty. She had features that most guys took a double look at, stopping in their tracks, but it went unnoticed to her. She kept up her stride, walked past the men that gawked at her every step, mind focused on her next class. Never did she falter the persona she crafted carefully, a shield for her heart to hide behind. The wall that she’d built over time, not easily broken. Never would she let a precocious boy with a bad pick up line and a mind full of crude sexual desire cloud her vision - her vision of being with someone respectful, more than a lustful in the moment mistake. She would say it, she wanted better for herself. 

She’s sure it’s what pissed people off the most about her, that she wouldn't spread her legs for any attractive man that showed her an ounce of attention. They say you shouldn't waste your beauty - as if getting dick made her any more of a woman than she already was. As if sex would give her value. As if falling into the trap so many teenagers fell into would make her normal. It pissed them off that she didn't flaunt her body, and she knew it. Knew they wanted her to just let loose - show her skin - be the skimpy college girl they thought she should be. She didn't show herself off with revealing clothing, flaunting herself around like her friends did, having flings with her friends just for a little bit of pleasure that she would regret later. Y/n hated how they tried to guilt trip her constantly, nudging her shoulder when any remotely attractive boy would look in her direction. Boys would try and pressure her to sway against her morals, make her think twice about hooking up with them. Of course she was tempted a time or two, but she was snapped from the thoughts just as quickly as they came. 

It was unfair of them to keep trying, knowing that her answer would always be no. Begging for it didn't make them special. Making her feel like an object, a trophy they needed to obtain, a prize in a box of cereal on a shelf, didn't make them special. Not in her book, at least. Most of the time it just made her feel intimidated, objectified, disgusted, and forever left behind by a generation of people that saw women as nothing until their ‘V Card’ was swiped from their hands and claimed by someone that probably didn’t deserve it in the first place. 

That’s what caused her to sit with a sorrowful pout aimed at her lap, every other shitfaced person in the small circle with her laughing at the boy’s oh so funny comment. Y/n sighed, fingers tapping at the side of her thigh, willing herself not to cry in front of people that didn't deserve it. They never would. But she couldn't deny she was embarrassed beyond belief, yearning for the ground littered with solo cups and stale beer to open up and swallow her whole - maybe then she could forget who is staring right at her, hearing everything. 

It’s not that she wouldn't have cared if he wasn't there, but it definitely made the situation a whole lot worse - to have him hear them embarrassing her. To look in on one of the most humiliating moments of her short adult life. Grayson was the last person she wanted to hear about her lack of sexual experience. The only person in the room she knew from home, let alone respected. 

He was...different than the others. Setting aside the fact she’d had a crush on him since he moved into the house next-door when he was 16...he’d had a golden heart for as long as she could remember. Not a thing went unnoticed by Grayson Dolan, he was always so in tune with the world around him. His kindness spread all throughout any situation he was in. It was a gift she herself wished she could have. Maybe then she wouldn't be such a shy outcast afraid to stand up for herself. But nothing had ever come of her affections, she was far too introverted to make a single move in any other direction than a wave and sometimes a small conversation about nothing in particular. Not until he’d invited her over to hang out after school one day, that is. It was a fleeting suggestion, but it has meant so much to her. She was never sure if it was a pity invitation - but the whole duration of her short visit, she never felt like an outcast.

It was completely innocent, but made it even harder to resist him. Being older wasn't the only thing that had made him so unattainable to her all of these years, it was also his maddening habit of looking so God damn attractive all the time. When he moved away a year before her, something cracked in her heart - the pain of being left behind by the only person that had ever shown true kindness to her. Little did she know she would be in the frat that had become a home to him, at the same college, with the same group of people, that same intense stare aimed right at her. 

She’s seen him only once before on campus, passing by her with a text book tucked under one arm, other hand preoccupied with scrolling through his phone. The way he had smacked into her body with enough force to have her hurdling to the ground in a heap of bones and fly away papers had been humiliating enough - but what was even worse was the way he had gotten onto her level, kneeling before her to help pick up the scattered assignments with apologies tumbling from his mouth one after the other. She remembers that moment vividly, how her heart had stopped beating for a moment, his striking features coming to the forefront of her mind once again.

He was even more attractive than he’d been when he was just her handsome neighbor. He was...well...a man. Muscles that looked to be carved from clay, chiseled and perfectly shaped, that same prominent jaw, dark eyebrows, beautiful plump lips, pouting just the right way while his hands flew from paper to paper - making a messy pile before handing it to her in a clumsy - an adorable - fashion, his shocking hazel eyes landing on her in what seemed like too long. She never saw him again after- even when he mentioned wanting to ‘catch up’, until now. It had been a moment of great significance to her heart, judging by how well she remembered that very moment like it had been playing on a big screen in a theater somewhere. 

But her life wasn't a movie or fairytale, and this situation proved that to be true. He watched from his spot on the sofa, glaring at the immature children that threw their remarks at her without remorse. Y/n had never seen the kind boy look so angry. It made her feel strangely safe, even if she hadn't seen him in so long. It made her cringe knowing the one boy that had shown her true care, friendship with no further intention to get in her pants, was sat right there, witnessing something she hoped would be wiped from her own memory. 

She had always wanted him to be her first, she’ll admit. Somewhere inside of her, she knew Grayson was the only boy she ever imagined herself getting intimate with, pushing it away from the sadness of it never having the opportunity to become a reality. Especially not now, he’s heard too much. Seen her too rattled up. Definitely wasn't how she pictured their next encounter playing out. 

Y/n tried her hardest to avoid his gaze, her hands growing increasingly clammy from the pressure of his eyes looking over her blushing cheeks. It was so fucking mortifying. He sat back on the sofa, large hands hung loose between his thighs. The look on his face was dark, dangerous. He looked...so angry. The laughing continued on as the people around her waited to see what she would do next. Run like a coward? Or face them and subject herself to more embarrassment in front of the only person that’s ever seen her as more than a frigid shy girl? Y/n sat with the shame of their words eating her alive, head hung low to avoid eye contact with each and every person in the small circle. The loud music was making her suffocate, overwhelmed with the situation and the urge to bury herself into the ground forever. 

What was she thinking indulging in a childish game of truth or dare? It was a thing for movies, coming of age ones at that, not a college frat party with several dozen people grinding to music from wall to wall. They were far too old for this. It was stupid is what it was. So why had she said yes? She knew the drill: she said yes to the invite and then it was free reign the entire game to think of every sexual dare they possibly could, just to laugh when she said no. They knew she would too, that was the point. Every single one of them thought she squirmed at the mere idea of sex, just because she had a good reputation. It was okay with her to be that girl at a party, she would rather have no reputation than a bad one. Even if she was a Freshman sitting in a group of much older kids, and some not so much, she felt the most mature. In this moment, she was. 

“If you won't do it, I will,” Shondra spoke out, a skinny girl with a dark complexion, two purple streaks standing out on her black head of hair, falling in front to frame her face. Y/n didn't know her from Adam, only having met her about a weeks ago in her Sociology class. She was a transfer from a college out of state, a grade above her, and moved for personal reasons. Shondra didn't explain, and Y/n never asked. She seemed like such a polite girl, someone she could hang out with. But judging by her reckless actions, she doubts it. Y/n watched as the girl rose from her criss-cross position and onto her knees, crawling over to a freckle nosed boy, scrawny looking boy and pulling him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt. With her hand in his she led him seductively from the crowded room, a smirk plastered to her dolled-up face. The dare had been to “let any guy in the group finger you for seven minutes” to which Y/n had automatically declined, wanting to keep her body to herself. There was only a few boys in the group, anyway. But only one gave her a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow, making the bile stir in her stomach. They had proclaimed at the beginning of the game that the traditional 7 minutes in heaven game was drab, and that they would gladly spice it up along the way. She should have known they would try and pull something on her. 

She wondered for a second why Grayson would ever want to subject himself to these types of people, let alone join a frat when he was...well...the least likely person to become a frat boy ever. But it made sense in a way, he was so accepting of everyone, no matter the background. That’s what drew her to him in the first place. 

She watched the pair disappear up the flight of wooden stairs, a scowl turning at her lips. She flinched as another comment flew her way, “Missed opportunity, Y/n. Let loose a little why don't you?” her ‘friend’ cackled at her, her eyes scrunched up in amusement. Every last one in the group joined in on their mocking laughter. Everyone but him. 

It warmed her heart to look over and see the sympathetic look in his eyes, heart clenching at her own embarrassed smile. She didn't want him to know about all this. Not when she was so obviously out of her element. But she understood why he was here, he actually fit in, unlike her. Granted, she was new to the group. She gazed on, eyes taking in the way each and every guy gave him a nudge on the shoulder, a pat on the back - every girl sending him their best seductive smirk. He didn't even seem...phased. Gave them a smile back, a joke to his friends, and then it was back to him sipping at his beer. Never over the top. Never too little. Comfortable. 

She took the time to scan over Grayon’s body when a loud blonde frat boy stepped up to talk to him about what she assumed was pointless nonsense, her eyes trailing every bulging muscle that escaped Grayson’s burnt orange t-shirt hugging his chest tight. She was ridiculously attracted to him. Everything about him made her nerves buzz - his wispy hair poking out from under his hat, jaw sharp and defined as he smiled up at his friend. It was like he had walked straight out of her dreams, ready to steal her heart once again. She had almost forgotten the way he made her feel, the burst of adrenaline she got just from the bright sound of his laughter. It was like a breath was punched into her chest, getting caught from the force of the blow. 

Y/n knew Grayson was sexually experienced, she wasn't a naïve fool after all. He had always been a bit of a flirt and liked to call girls affectionate pet names. She knew that to him, it was normal, but that didn't mean it hadn't messed with her head a time or two. She thought back to the way he kneeled before her the day he knocked her flat on her back, sputtering out a shy, but surprisingly frantic, apology. There had been a little pet name slipped out with his rambling, one that had her shivering to this day: 

“Sorry, babe. Didn't see you there.” 

Babe. It stuck with her like a catchy tune, popping into her whirring thoughts the first second she saw him again. It just sounded so good coming from his heart shaped lips. She presumed the reason she didn't look at him like all of the other sex-crazed teens, was probably the fact that he didn't necessarily flaunt his sexuality like the rest. He was confident, of course, but unlike the others he had morals and could see plain as day they were hurting, sexualizing, and degrading her. She didn't know it, but Grayson knew there was more to her than some shy little girl that blushed at any sexual comment. She didn't flaunt it like the rest did, but that didn't make her any less of a woman. 

He watched her carefully, noticing her zoning herself out of the game, in her own head. He’s sure she’s beating herself up over the words they flung at her so carelessly. He wishes she knew how special she was, that she didn't fall into the ‘norm’ of things - that she didn't have to. She stood her ground even if it made her a social outcast. She had always walked on her own path, and he envied her for it, but was thankful he wasn't as blind as some of the people in the frat right then were.

Y/n moved away from the group of condescending, shit-faced college kids, needing a breath of fresh air and a refill on her drink. She normally wouldn't have been a social drinker either, but tonight had been different. She needed a boost if she was going to last the whole night and not lose her mind in the process. She wasn't joining in on the ‘fun’ anyway, and she was right on the money assuming they wouldn't notice her absence. They didn't even blink as she walked away. She thought over the night on her trek into the kitchen, squeezing between sweaty dancing bodies, ducking under flailing limbs. It had her thinking that...it could never be her. She doesn’t think she could ever be that carefree. Completely let go of all of her worries in front of dozens of people she didn’t know, didn’t trust, and didn’t want to see her like that. Part of her wanted to succumb to all of their teasing sometimes, just get with someone. But she told herself over and over again that it was ridiculous to go against what she wanted and believed in all because of a little drunken harassment. She wouldn't break for people that didn't respect her. She would regret it, and so far, she’s had no other regrets except maybe not kissing Grayson at least one time when she had even a little bit of a chance. But that chance was long gone and forgotten now. 

Glancing behind her shoulder into the packed living room, she saw Grayson lift his hand from across the way, hand gesturing in a sort of wave. His other hand was holding a beer. She cringed at his beverage internally, always loathing the strong putrid taste of beer. She was more of a wine girl, herself. Y/n let a smile lift her cheeks, it was slow of course, not really sure if his small wave was directed at her or just another one of his buddies that happened to be passing by in the crowded house, even if she was the only one in the kitchen. 

She quirked her head to the side, watching him with squinted eyes as he mouthed something in her direction. ‘You okay?’ she gathered, not understanding the sudden sympathy, but nodding back a ‘Yeah’ to him anyway. Why did he care? She had always been an outcast, that much was obvious. Yes, they had been ‘friends’ so to say before he moved off the college, but she had thought that was the end of it. He was there and then he wasn’t. She didn’t expect him to remember her, much less care about her after. The blush that crept up her cheekbones when he smiled happily back at her, made her internally cringe. Obvious much. ‘Good’ he’d mouthed back, a dazzling smile showing his ridiculously straight teeth off to her. 

Not wanting to keep staring, she turns her back to face the counter - trying to catch her breath from having him express such sympathy when she was used to being invisible, and when seen, mocked. Truth be told, she didn't know where the hell to look once the - sort of - conversation was over. She fought herself over the redness in her cheeks, cursing her own pathetic shyness. He was just...so kind. He didn't even have to be and he was. Even if someone doesn't deserve it, he shows them kindness. Redemption was something he’s always been a fan of. Grayson was always the bigger person, making it totally impossible to not open yourself up to him. She huffed at herself, apparently her desire hadn't lessened over time like she had hoped. He made it easy to fall back into old fantasies, that much was true. 

She focused on the wine dribbling from it’s box and into her red plastic cup, knowing that it’s shitty wine, but at least it isn't beer. She’d already had a few small glasses, feeling the warmth flooding in her body, but perhaps just a bit more would help. Thinking maybe juice would make it at least a small margin better, she wanders to the fridge, looking over her shoulder before grabbing the ‘kiwi melon’ juice from the bottom shelf - a sneaky smile playing at her lips. She knows it’s rude to pry and take what’s not yours, but if she’s going to be miserable at a party, shouldn't she at least have a good drink? With that same smile, she pours some of the pinkish liquid into her wine, doing a little shimmy in excitement from her silly idea at making herself happy. That moment was cut short when a heavy hand landed on the small of her waist, her body jolting from the shock of someone touching her so suddenly, heart hammering from the fright. She frowns at the puddle of juice on the counter before her eyes finally land on the culprit that had scared the daylights out of her - being met with a smiling Grayson, close to her face and a strong arm around her back. God, please stop messing with my hormones. 

“You know mixing isn't good for you right?” 

Hearing his low voice made her shiver, staring at him for just a bit too long before she broke the staring spell and responded shyly, “I’m probably not even gonna drink it honestly, I just thought maybe the juice would make it taste less bitter,” she laughed, reaching forward to secure the cap back on the juice, not interested in drinking the nasty wine anymore. Talking to him was much better. 

“Not much alcohol really tastes sweet, babe,” he laughed, sliding his massive arm off of her and leaning with his lower back flesh to the counter next to her. Peaking at him under her eyelashes, she admires how cute he looks with a hat on, he never wore them much in the past. His lips were tinged red from having a the neck of a beer bottle pressed against them throughout the night. She also chose to ignore the pet name that tumbled out through his teasing remark, knowing it didn't mean anything but if she thought about it long enough, the hopeless romantic in her would over analyze it. Ripping a paper towel from the roll above the sink, she attempted to clean the counter of the juice, lip curling at the wet feeling against her fingertips. She didn't like messes.  

“Yeah,” she agreed, “you just kind of have to chug it and the taste will be gone soon enough. It’s really the feeling that’s nice.” 

She knew it sounded bad as soon as it left her mouth, but chose to hide behind her hair once again, her blush would only make it more obvious that she hadn't meant to say something that sounded so vulgar. Grayson wasn’t a pervert or anything, but this conversation suddenly had him thinking about how she would be with her mouth. And it that was not how he wanted to see her when she had just sat in his living room and been made fun of for the exact opposite. He didn't want to be another one of those people that saw her for her body and nothing else - but he couldn't deny his attraction.  Instead of indulging in vulgar thoughts of her mouth and body, he slid in closer and gazed down at her doe eyes, flickering from his lips, down to his now closer chest, then back up to his eyes. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” 

“Yeah, Gray,” she nodded, “I’m fine, really. I’m used to it.” 

Gray. She hadn't called him that in what felt like ages. It slipped out in habit, and from the small smile tugging at his lips, she knew he didn't mind. He’d always loved when she called him that, let him know there was some level of trust between them. 

“You don’t have to be, though,” he told her earnestly, “I mean it - I can talk to them if you want...they shouldn't be treating you like that.” 

“It’s really whatever,” she huffed, getting just a tiny bit angrier, not at him, just the issue. Tossing the soggy paper towels into the bin in the corner, she dumps the contents in her glass down the sink, and rinses out the empty glass, “It doesn't get to me anymore.” 

Grayson’s stare burnt through the side of her face, his calm blinking letting her know he saw right through her bullshit. It did get to her, it got down to her very core and made the humiliation so unbearable she resulted to drinking wine that tasted like battery acid mixed with juice that was probably outdated, just to distract her from the embarrassment. He also knew it embarrassed her from the shaky rise and fall of her chest. That and the next words that flew from her mouth were so full of frustration and resentment, he almost choked, “I mean it’s like, yeah, okay I've never had a dick in my mouth, but does that make me a bad person?” 

He raised a hand to cover his smile, chuckling into his own hand. He didn't want to seem insensitive by laughing at her. Getting himself somewhat under control, he droned out with an amused smile, “Definitely not a bad person.” 

“Mhm,” she hummed, looking down at her hands perched on the edge of the counter. She would be panicking at being so open with him, but honestly he made it feel so natural she couldn't overthink it much, “I would rant more but I don’t want to waste your time explaining how much of a prude I am.” Her voice was sad, like she genuinely believed it was something he thought about her - would ever think about her. He watched her try and distance herself from him. not wanting to discuss her biggest insecurity in fear it would make him look at her different - as if he looked at her period.  

“I don’t think you’re a prude,” Grayson told her honestly. She looked so pretty staring up at him through her long lashes, blinking with a confused gaze. He knew she was confused by his kindness, “I just think they have no respect for themselves.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” she shrugged, “don’t get me wrong, there isn't anything wrong with sleeping around. I just wished they understood and respected why I don’t, you know?” 

“Well it’s like, wouldn’t you rather have sex with a friend? Someone who you get along with, trust, and cares about you?”

It was a genuine question and with one look she could tell he actually meant the words he said. He wasn't just saying them to appeal to her and make her feel better, even if that was part of it deep down under the surface. 

“But that’s not what any of them are like with me. I don’t trust any of them and I don’t think even one of them gives a damn about me,” she grumbled, “I would never. With any of them.” 

He chose his next words carefully, not wanting her to take him the wrong way. 

“But you would with someone who treats you right?” Grayson questioned, ignoring that the words sounded and inferred that he was asking for his own benefit. It was an obvious answer, but he had asked anyway. 

“Yes.” She swallowed, looking up at him nervously. Curiosity swam behind his eyes and she was starting to think he was getting at something, becoming the tiniest bit jittery under his stare. 

“Understandable,” he nodded, hair flopping from under his hat. “It’s better to be with someone you trust, always has been that way. Always will be. But don’t let them get to you, it will come.” 

Y/n looked up at his drunk little smile and felt oddly safe once again, a genuine smile rising to her face, it took his breath away. He took his time scanning her soft features, licking at his lips unknowingly. 

“I know, Grayson. You’re really sweet, thank you for listening,” she mumbled, that same bright smile aimed right at him. 

His head bobbed in a nod, a purse at his lips - he was holding something back. Her heart stopped at his next words.

“And, maybe this is taking this way too far and maybe i’m a little more drunk than i thought but - i mean - i’d do whatever the fuck you wanted me to do to you in a heartbeat, Y/n. No questions asked.” He blew a breath through his nose, on high alert now that he’d said something so bold - unsure of her reaction. Her blush gave him a great deal of satisfaction. 

“Um...right,” she muttered, unsure of what to say now that he had been so open with her. What he was saying had her mind reeling, tossing over idea after idea of what he would mean. She couldn't ignore the clenching in her nether region at his innuendo, trying to ignore it the best she could. It was impossible with his eyes scanning over her face. She tried passing it off for the fact he was intoxicated, and probably didn't mean what he said. Normally, on any other day, she would be immensely annoyed at any boy saying such a thing to her, assuming he only wanted her for her body. Most of the time it ended up being true. Maybe it was her being naive to think this was different, but he had already made it clear that getting into her pants wasn't her intention - and she believed him. 

The way he’d said it, was so honest it had her panicking slightly on the inside. It wasn’t that he was saying these things for his own benefit, it truly sounded like he meant the words that he was saying - that if given the opportunity, he would focus on her pleasure and not delve into a sea of greed that so many of the guys she’s come in contact with had. They just wanted to pleasure themselves. The steadiness of his voice indicated that he wanted to make her feel good. It made her giddy inside. Without the intention of getting her hopes up, she hid her blush behind her hand. Maybe he did like her back? 

It was childish to think such a thing, and she knew it as well as anyone else. How could she possibly know what anyone else, much less a guy, wanted when she couldn't even decide for herself? Peaking over at him once again, she’s shocked to find him staring at her still. 

“Was that perverted? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” his kind eyes widened to saucers, seemingly reading something behind her eyes she didn't realize was there. It was just so damn hard to hide her nerves when everything was so foreign to her - the ‘everything’ being flirting and sexual innuendos that she actually didn’t mind. His eyes dropped to the floor, his own frown adorning his handsome fact, “Was it? Because I’m sorry if I offended you or anything I’ve just had a lot to drink-”

“It’s alright, Grayson,” she giggled to hide her anxiousness. His worried expression turned into one of relief, his smile mirroring hers, “You’re just drunk, I get it. Don’t worry about me.” 

They watched as a girl not much older than her stumbled through the kitchen on broken heels, clearly out of her mind drunk. The giggling, clumsy teen disappeared behind the corner and into the bathroom, two of her friends following close behind with their own drinks in their hands - shouting her name with drunken slurs. She looked on at the messy college girl, smirking at Grayon’s shaking head. He seemed to be amused by her trashy behavior. As if he could feel her eyes on him, his stare returned to her face once again, an emotion she couldn’t put her finger on swimming in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he swallowed, voice low - blinking down at her slowly, “just drunk.” 

“You okay?” she tilted her head when he tore his gaze away once again, wanting to be there for him like he had for her. She waited patiently while he bobbed his head up and down again - looking a bit unsure. 

“Yeah, I just uh...” he trailed off, blowing a puff of air from his lips again, “I just need a smoke that’s all.” 

That was his only explanation, for some reason, she didn’t believe it as much as she thought she should have. He just looked so damn nervous, it gave her more reason for concern. But she shrugged anyway, nodding herself, “So have one then.” 

“You wanna come with?” he offered with a hopeful tone, nudging at her shoulder with a small smile. 

“That’s alright. It’s cold outside,” she pulls an excuse from the air, not really wanting to travel back outside because she knows if she leaves she won’t want to come back - and being stranded doesn’t sound like the most appealing option. Neither does asking someone random for a ride. Her friends would only mock her further for wanting to leave so early. 

“I was actually gonna head up to my room and open a window, not really a fan of smoking outside. Too much effort,” he jokes, chuckling to himself. At least he was honest. 

Y/n swallowed down her nerves, not wanting to keep turning him away when he was trying to go the extra mile to talk to her and wanted to - for some unknown reason - spend time with her. She wouldn't choose herself from a crowd of college kids, that’s for sure. 

“Oh, um...yeah, sure, okay.” She hated the way he made her fumble with her words, made her nervous and jittery. She had always been that way around him, at a loss of what to do or say, totally enamored by him. She also hated smoking, but she wanted to be alone with him more than she wanted to admit. She would brave the smoke if it meant she got him all to herself for just a while. With her gentle nod came another one of Grayson’s award winning smiles, a hand coming forward to grab at hers to her surprise - tugging her through the living room and over to the stairs packed with sweaty dancing bodies. It made her lip curl in distaste. 

Following him up the stairs made her feel safe, untouchable in fact - hiding behind his large body kind of had that special effect. Like nothing could touch her. There were eyes that lingered on the pair of you along the way, darting from you to Grayson and back again. Someone shot her a smirk, some a full smile, and some even gave her a thumbs up as if to say: good luck. They could make their assumptions, Lord knows they did anyhow. 

And of course, like she had presumed, Grayson’s room was at the end of the long hallway - the last door on the left. It made her smile thinking back to her hometown where she had walked close behind him down the hallway of his home and into his bedroom to spend hours listening to him scream at some video game she never cared for and talk about how ready they were to get out of that town. She was first, the shy neighbor, and then his neighbor friend. It was an upgrade that meant the world to her at the time, even though he left her to herself when he moved away. They had been a team and his room had been their sanctuary. 

She was grinning when they stepped through the door and her eyes met the familiar white bedding he’d had had that same warm day in spring - when he had invited her to sit and talk a while. The only thing he’d added that she could notice were some rich emerald green colored pillows, the plush kind that probably felt like a cloud to sleep on. He was a simple kind of guy. Not many people knew - but there was a stitched in red robin on the underside of his duvet - courtesy of Lisa - his wonderful mother. Y/n always had a great deal of respect for the kind-hearted woman. She called the tiny hidden stitching her ‘Easter egg’ - something unexpected but always appreciated. If you didn’t pull back the right corner, you’d never even know it was there. 

Shaking her head out of her thoughts, Y/n tore her eyes away from the perfectly made bed (He always lectured her on making the bed, said it was ‘the first dose of accomplishment for the day’ - (simple but essential) and looked over to Grayson who had taken a seat on the large cushioned windowsill and was now bending forward to push on the window with one arm - the clear glass swinging outwards, letting in the breeze of crisp night air. It was a cool night, not too warm, not too cold - but just right. Just like every moment she spent with him. Peaking out of the window, Y/n could see a vegetable garden in the corner of the backyard, smiling with the knowledge that Grayson had probably put in maximum effort to get a garden so fresh and taken care of in a house full of frat boys that only cared about a good fuck and beer. It was odd to see something like a garden in a place that felt so disconnected from the world, that it nearly made her laugh. But instead, she took a moment to thank the Gods above that no one was outside. Because if they only looked up, she was sure they would be able to tell how nervous she was down to her very bones while her fingers twisted around each other - waiting for the right words to come to her. 

Satisfied with the crack in the window, Grayson leans back and to the side to tuck a large hand into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a yellow lighter. He lights the end of the stick as Y/n stood still by the door - wondering whether or not to close it. She wondered for a moment what message it might give and if it was one she wanted. 

It was so weird to watch him smoke when she remembered him being the biggest health buff she knew. She couldn’t ever predict to see a cigarette  resting between his fingers. But she had to admit it looked damn hot to see him suck in a drag between his plump lips, just to slowly ease it back out the window and into the night. The smoke danced for a minute against the screen before sneaky through the holes. It was mesmerizing, truly. He made everything look beautiful, and that was coming from a girl that gagged at the mere smell of smoke. 

Grayson’s body shifts on the windowsill, in pursuit of (probably) easing her nerves he could feel bouncing all around the room- when she lifts the heel of her foot and kicks the door closed behind her with a small *click*. A shaky hand follows as she reaches back to twist the lock to the right, trying not to think too much whether she would soon regret the split second decision or not. With one look at his warm, welcoming smile, she doubted it. 

“Do you wanna?” he asked her through the soft gold lamp light. Normally, the thought of smoking would make a chill run down her spine and repulse her for the rest of the day, but watching him make it look so...not gross and disgusting, had her thinking. 

“Oh, no thank you, I don’t smoke,” Y/n told him earnestly, shaking her head the tiniest bit. 

“Yeah I knew that, just thought maybe you had tried it a time or two since I last saw you...had a rebellious moment-” he gave her a wink at that, knowing she was the least rebellious person he had ever come across in his life. He just loved to tease her, “can I ask why you haven't?” 

“Just haven’t,” she said honestly, taking a few small steps to slide onto the edge of the bed - worried that if she sat with him at the window she might combust. 

“That’s okay,” Grayson chuckled, rising from his seat by the window and claiming a spot on the bed right next to her, “you could try it at least once, though. It won’t kill you.” 

That’s a lie, she wanted to say - but instead smacked her lips in thought, gazing up at the smile behind his eyes. He just made everything feel so safe and okay. Even something she had always viewed as disgusting and wrong, he suddenly had her pondering on. Y/n was so distracted with her own thoughts for a moment, she almost didn’t notice him holding the cigarette out to her. She looked at the white roll between his fingers, the smoke wafting up into her nose and she almost made a face, but stopped herself. A wave of panic went through because - fuck - was she really going to do this? What was the reason to go back on everything she believed in about smoking? She never wanted to, so what made this situation any different? 

“I guess not...I just don’t know how to do it,” she admitted. She’s sure it’s not rocket science, but she’s seen enough of her friends cough and gag to be convinced it’s easy for your first time ever trying. And she’s pretty positive she would never - and will never - attempt smoking again after tonight. Only for Grayson, she chanted to herself, only this once for him and then never again. Since when has she ever been subject to peer pressure? She scolded herself, knowing she should never say yes to something she is unsure of, but really wanting to make him proud for some reason. 

“I’ll show you,” he nodded at her and then to the cigarette in his hand, pulling her from her racing thoughts.  Raising the cigarette up, he held it pin straight in front of her face. Y/n gave him a skeptical look, heaving out a sigh, but took the roll anyway - holding it awkwardly in front of her lips. This is so wrong, this is gross, this is bad, she whined to herself, but smacked the thought away. 

“That’s it, now just wrap the dry bit of your lips around it-” he instructed her softly, and she could almost swear her heart was going to explode from the tone he was using, “that’s it.” 

Y/n followed his gentle direction, not daring to look at him while she did something she vowed to never partake in. But how could you say no to a face like his? 

“Now inhale, but breathe in. Don’t force the air down or anything like that, just take it in and pull it down until you feel it here-” he tapped a finger against her chest, goosebumps raising right where he had touched her. She prayed he didn’t notice - even if she saw his eyes linger on her skin for just a few seconds longer. 

With a burst of bravery, she sucked in on the stick, taking in a deep breath. She could feel it like a heavy cloud sitting in her throat and on her tongue before she sputtered it back out with a sickly sounding cough. Bad idea. She cringed as the smoke oozed from her nostrils as well, followed by a harsh pain. 

Grayson laughed lightly watching her grimace and hold it back out to him with panic, “No?” 

No, she agreed in her head, but instead shook her head and brought it back in front of her face with a disgusted scowl. He raised a prominent eyebrow at her in question and disbelief. Really again? His eyes talked back to her. 

“Just um... let me go again,” she urged, clearing her throat and ignoring the burning sensation that followed in result of her coughing fit only moments prior. She just wanted to look tough in front of him. Not that she owed him anything, but herself maybe. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I don’t really want to be responsible for your death,” he laughed, taking it back from her. He would never force her to do anything she was uncomfortable with. With a pout she huffs. 

“Let me try again,” she whined slightly, holding her hand out. She tried giving him her best ‘please give into me’ eyes, but she wasn’t sure it worked until the corner of his lips started to curve upwards. 

His hesitation made her smile, hesitation was closer to a yes than a no. But he shook is head soon after, and he couldn’t catch her bottom lip fast enough before it popped out into a pout. She wanted to at least take a drag without all but coughing up her lungs. That’s all, after that she would let it go. She never had the desire to smoke in the first place. 

“Okay,” Grayson decided with a huff, “I wanna try something real quick. Can you come a little closer for me?” 

With a slight nod Y/n scoots herself closer to him on the edge of the bed, knees now touching his slightly. He’s close enough now that if she leans in just a bit, they would be kissing. The thought makes goosebumps pop up along the skin of her arms, something she hopes he pays no mind to. But instead, she sits with a dumbfounded look while he smiles brightly at her. 

“Now part your lips,” he nods at her, eyes glued to her plump rosy lips that tempt him more than she will ever realize.She’s looking at him innocently, only making it harder for him to think about the mean things that were said about her downstairs. He’d love nothing more than to kick all of their asses when they finish up in his room.  

With her compliance comes the knowledge that she’s gotten herself into some trouble when he takes the end of the cigarette into his own mouth, wraps his own lips tightly around the white stick and sucks in hard. She admires the way his eyes droop shut with the long drag, and gasps in a small breath when his hand reaches up to grab loosely at her chin, pulling her face even closer. A daring move. 

“Try what?” she frowned, looking up and into his intense eyes that all but glare at her now. A fire erupts somewhere in her when he ducks his face down to place his lips over hers lightly, almost hovering and resisting the urge to plant them fully upon hers just as he exhales the smoke into her open mouth. She jumps when she feels the smoke swirling in her mouth like liquid, warm - but something tells her that’s not what has her sweating right there on the bed. 

With her eyes pinched shut and tried to focus on the subtle burn that was in fact less overwhelming than her first time trying to smoke herself - but all she could seem to focus on or much rather care about, was his satin soft lips moving ever so slightly as he blows out the rest of the smoke into her mouth. The light pressure causing her head to spin in circles, his hand on her chin ensuring that her face stay near to his. 

With a dizzy head and a heart that just wouldn’t stop racing, she exhales the smoke out of her nostrils between them, Grayson’s head pulling back just a bit to let the grayish swirls of smoke drift away and disappear. 

“How about that?” he whispered, staring at her with softened eyes. She hadn’t coughed, so he took that as a good sign. 

Swallowing nervously, she taps at her knee with her fingers, trying to avoid his eyes altogether. He was just...too much to look at. Too kind, too handsome, too understanding of things he didn’t have to be. She thought she might feel sick with herself after endeavoring in such a disgusting act...but surprisingly, she just felt accomplished. She hadn’t hacked up a lung, and he wasn’t running for the hills like she thought he might. Her innocence sometimes frightened people. Especially those with no real understanding of the finer things in life. But Grayson wasn’t one of those people, and she knew she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Better,” she finally managed to squeak out. And for once, she wasn’t lying. In fact, it was the most truthful thing she’d said in a very long time. When you were putting on a show for dozens of people, it felt a bit strange to say something that wasn’t robotic and programmed. Even if was just once word. That would was hers. 

“Why was it better, Y/n?” Grayson whispered again, still staring right through her. His eyes seemed darker now, a pit of something she couldn’t put her finger on. 

“I-I um...don’t know really it’s jus-” 

“Can I kiss you?” He cut her off seriously, turning only for a moment to toss the cigarette into an ashtray on the nightstand, and it was actually kind of astonishing how good of a shot it was, “just once.” 

“W-why?” she whimpered, confused and flattered and unsure of what to think. 

Is this just another joke? Another prank to be pulled off by her ‘friends’? There has to be a camera somewhere. Someone waiting behind the door, just waiting to bust in with a group if people and laugh at her. 

“Does it matter why?” he smirked, still holding her chin softly. His touch felt so delicate. Like she was a little porcelain doll he had to handle with care. 

“I mean...a little,” she admitted, “ people don’t usually randomly ask me to kiss them.” 

“Because I actually like you,” he began quietly, so so quiet, “because you’re beautiful, you really understand things for what they are, and people make fun of you for it.” 

They are both surprised when she lets out an amused scoff, one hand raising to cover her mouth for just a moment at her outburst. Her eyes are wide, but within a moment she’s lowering her hand back down to what she thought was her own lap...but ended up being Grayson’s knee. She’s speaking before she can think to remove her hand first. 

“I am not beautiful, Grayson,” she mutters, shyly and ashamed. 

It’s almost like he’s been shot, to hear her say such a thing. To hear her lie. She can’t possibly think that about herself? 

“Y/n,” he breathes with a shake of his head, “the first time I saw you it felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.” Maybe it was the way he said it with such sincerity, the genuine emotion behind his words, or the way his lips ushered the words right out of his - but she found her heart fluttering and her head nodding at his request. 

“Okay,” she decided, not sure if he’d understand but hoping she wouldn’t have to actually say what she was okaying. 

“Okay? I can-” he checked, flicking his hazel eyes from her lips and back up again. 

“Yes, I mean yeah, I mean...okay,” she laughed, so beyond nervous she couldn’t prepare herself for what was about to come next. Something spectacular. Something magical. At least, that’s what she always thought it would be like kissing Grayson. Her only thought was that she didn’t want to be the one to lean in, and thankfully she didn’t have to. Grayson was leaning in in no time, and she was thankful for his confidence. It was something she was always lacking.  

His head tilted in such a way that he kissed her lips at this angle, this oh so special angle, one that she felt her body melt at. Her head dropped to the side as his lips put pressure against hers, his hand still placed right under her chin while his lips ghosted and danced over her own. 

With the thought of her hands remaining to herself being just too sad to handle, she delicately placed her fingers upon his waist. She could feel the heat of him under his shirt, and somehow that simple fact made her shiver, lean into him more. She didn’t squeeze, just touched at his waist - dipping her toes into the water so to say. Grayson being a little more invested for the time being, captured her upper lip with another roll of pressure. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp at the movement. She knew she wasn’t the best kisser, only having kissed a few times, and none of those times ended up being all that great - but she was trying. 

Despite her lack of confidence and the nerves threatening to make her wretch at any moment, she wanted to take it further. Not just one kiss, little pecks. She wanted a kiss: heavy tongues and puckering noises. She wanted the full kiss, the ones all her friends had and bragged about when she sat around being sad she hadn’t yet experienced something so electric. 

With an act of bravery, she let that hand that rested on his waist close in to squeeze at him, digging her nails in to the fabric and  applying just the right amount of pressure to have him kissing her deeper. She then took it a step further, sliding her other hand up to tug the hat resting on his head backwards off and clutch at his locks of chocolaty hair. She was proud of herself when his hand came up to grip at her own waist and she didn’t so much as jump, warning bells didn’t sound off in her head, she wasn’t afraid. She let him just like she let herself. 

Their kisses still weren’t long, just lingering pecks and lips squeezing one another’s. Y/n was the first to open her mouth, the first to show a sign of wanting something beyond the innocent pecking. Pulling back for just a second, she wraps her lips around his plump bottom one, pulling for a second before popping it free. 

Grayson makes a small sound, something like a grunt mixed with a breath, and slacked his jaw a bit to kiss her harder. Much harder. This was what she wanted. He was hungry for it now. With that new excitement, came the shock of his tongue colliding with hers. At first, she jumped on the mattress, her fingers stilled in his hair, but he kept her close. She recovered from her shock quickly and tried to not make any noise that might embarrass her when his wet heavy tongue rolled against hers, one of his large hands coming to press into her back. It was so smooth, the way he knew exactly how to angle his mouth, kiss her at just the right spots, apply just the right pressure. It pulled her into him more than the hand at her back. 

Her mouth grew hotter, tingles spreading from her lips down her collarbones, her shoulders, and to the tips of her fingers that were still locked in his hand and tethered to the fabric of his shirt. And it was almost comical that she liked the slight bitterness from the smoke they had inhaled minutes prior to their kiss, added an extra buzz to her nerves. This was so unlike her, but somehow...exactly like her in every way. She honestly didn’t really know who she was because of how often she had to conform to what everyone else thought she be. 

Y/n felt his firm hands become greedy quickly, his body just itching to do something to hers. A ball of excitement sat down low in her stomach, growing to a steady burn that spread out through the rest of her body, pushing out as a sigh she will think back on and be horrified about for the rest of her days. But in the moment? Kissing Grayson in a frat house? After smoking her first cigarette? She didn’t give a damn that she made any sounds of pleasure, in fact she wanted him to know just how good his lips felt moving against hers. He fought off the urge to act on his hunger, not wanting to be that guy. He wasn’t that guy. He never had been. Especially with her, he would be patient. If kissing was all she would ever want to do, he would be okay with it. 

“Gray,” she breathed, way too caught up in the heat of the moment to realize the weight of what she was about to say,” “Gray let me touch you.” 

Grayson stopped the steady speed of their kiss and pulled his tongue from hers, still holding her face close, but backed his head up just enough to get a look right into her beautiful eyes. With a thick swallow and a small shake of his head he’s finally blabbering out a confused, “What?” 

“Just...let me,” she begged, tightening the fist in his hair to really let him know she means it, “let me please.” 

And she did mean it, that she was sure of. She wasn’t sure if it really was the fact that she had a bit to drink tonight, of it was just the moment and she was high off of the way his lips felt, or the fact that she had liked him for so long anyway - but she wanted to fucking touch him. She wasn’t even sure to what extent, just that she wanted to feel the weight of the situation and go outside of her comfort zone. She was ready to go somewhere with him. She trusted him more than half of her jackass ‘friends’ anyway. 

“Y/n,” he began after a moment of irritating silence, “you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for. We can just kiss, I promise I’m okay with just kissing you.” 

“But I want too, Grayson,” she whimpered, sliding her knee up his thigh, to show just how much. She tried to show with that simple motion that she thought now was perfect, her chance to finally let loose and just dive head first into her first sexual encounter. Her first real one anyway. It wasn’t just getting it out of the way. It wasn’t her acting on some rash urge to be like the other sex crazed people around her. It wasn’t a cry for acceptance. It was her about the opportunity she had pictured for so long was now before her and she didn’t want to throw it away due to the nerves pumping through her at lightning speed. She didn’t want to be afraid of intimacy anymore. 

“Y/n/n,” he whispered, “you really don’t have to. Don’t think that’s why I kissed you. I was fully expecting for us just to kiss.” 

“No,” she promised, leaning forward and dipping her head to the side to kiss at his sharp jaw, “show me how it’s done please, Gray. Show me how to make you cum. Wanna know how you like it.” 

Grayson swallowed loudly again, the head that was once holding her face now wrapped lightly around her neck. It was simply resting there, no intention or purpose. But she felt that same hand tighten just a bit at her words.

“Jesus, Y/n. You’re drunk, bub. You would never be saying this if you were sober,” he mumbled out to her, looking at her in the eyes. It almost made her feel better. Almost. 

But it still stung. Because there is was. There it fucking was. Even if he denied that he found her frigid like all the others, he still didn’t believe she had any form of sexual desire. That she couldn’t possibly have any confidence with her body. That she wasn’t like that. That she was worthless when it came to her body and the only time she would ever desire getting or giving any type of sexual pleasure is when she was drunk. 

Pulling her head back and away from his hand while trying to avoid the pity in his eyes, she decided that instead of shutting down and taking the sting in her heart home with her - she was going to prove him wrong. Because he was. She could do more than sit and look pretty, even if that’s what made her most comfortable on any other day. She wanted to suck his dick. It was that simple. She wanted it and she knew he wanted it just as bad, even if he was going to try and be a gentleman about it. 

Grayson watched her slip to her knees on the floor in front of him, never breaking the stare they had kept for a few long minutes now. She was pulling apart his legs in no time, her grip firm. He sucked in a breath when her silk soft lips fell to the inside part of his knee, the soft material of the tight fitting black sweats he was wearing softer than what she had assumed. Reaching a hand up, she twisted and pulled at the tie in the front, undoing it quickly, grazing over a bump in his underwear that he couldn’t hide even if he tried as she shifted closer to him on the edge of the bed. 

“Y/n,” he grabbed at her hand, trying not to choke when she gave him a dead look, like she would rather him do anything else but stop her, “are you sure you want this? I don’t want you to regret anything.” 

“Yes, Grayson. I’m not a fucking prude.” 

And there is was. That same word that was thrown at her all the time, for years she’s had to hear the same insult. But she didn’t have to prove anything to him. She was safe with him, even if he did want to fuck her senseless he would never act on any of those thoughts unless the time was right and she was 100% completely ready for that stepping stone in her life. Sitting there looking into her eyes, seeing the determination, it made his heart speed up he wouldn’t lie about that. 

“You don’t have to-” he huffed and put his hands to his face in frustration, “you don’t have to prove that to me.” 

It was sweet, the way he tried to validate her, make her feel safe. But he didn’t understand, she wanted him. 

“I know that,” she nodded, “but why does it have to stop me from doing the things I want to do?” 

As Grayson stared down at her, he was scared for a moment that she would able to see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to go down on him, and didn’t want her to also think that was the goal with bringing her up to his room. He didn’t and would never want to pressure her into anything. If Grayson knew anything, it was that she deserved the best. So he made a promise to himself right there on the edge of his bed that he would treat her like a fucking goddess during and after whatever they were about to do. That he would show that he cared about her, because he did. And he knew he always had.

“Fuck, okay. As long as you’re sure,” he whispered gruffly, feeling his dick twitch from the simple bat of her eyelashes up at him. She smirked at this, tugging at the elastic of his sweats. 

Grayson complied by shifting his hips up and watched her drag them down his muscular legs and to his feet, yanking his ankles apart as much as she could in the denim. She stopped when she noticed the lack of shoes on his feet, now remembering him slipping them off in the time she came into the room earlier. But what really made her stop was the tattoo on top of his foot. She tapped at it twice with a smirk, but didn’t say anything. It calmed her nerves only slightly that his fingers were tapping on the bed nervously. She was thankful she wasn’t the only one. 

He'd just never had a virgin suck him off before. That and it was Y/n for Christ’s sake. She had always been too damn good for him and he put off any idea of ever being anything more than friends with her because he was 1. going away for college and 2. sure that she would find some dreamy successful kind of guy that would smoke his ass any day. But...there was was...choosing him. 

“Show me, Gray,” she whispered softly, sitting with her hands in her lap, twiddling with her fingers. 

He nodded immediately, the innocence in her voice ushering him to take her face in his hands when she came back up, just to tilt his head and land a sweet kiss on her lips. Just to let her know that he was going to take care of her, that it meant something. He was again glad that he was the guy she chose to have her first sexual encounter with. Not one of the dumbfucks downstairs that only wanted to fuck her and throw her away like a piece of trash. Grayson was respectful, and he was going to give her a comfortable experience no matter what. 

Y/n found herself stuck with what to do already. She had built up all this fire, but it was like she was standing on a stage with a spotlight pointing down at her - completely frozen. But she wasn’t dumb, she knew she had to get him hard first. Raising a dainty hand, she squeezed his clothes length, already half hard and massive. Y/n chose not to mention how big he was and instead inhaled and deep breath into her lungs, trying to stifle whatever stupid nervous thought was threatening to talk her out of what she wanted. With that breath, she took the time to pull the hem down and under his length. 

“Okay-shit,” he whispered once again, voice shaking even more than before when her hand came up to wrap around his bare shaft now. “Holy shii-okay.” He tried breathing in deep a couple times when he felt her hot palm around him, making blood rush down his body only making him that much harder in her hand. “Fuck, this is gonna sound gross but spit in your hand.” 

For a moment, she thought he was joking, and sat with his weight in her hand, but when she looked up to his pouted lower lip with no sign of amusement she knew he was serious and her cheeks grew a darker shade of red. Letting him go for just a second, she followed his direction and grabbed at him again, feeling slicker. 

“Shit-now move your hand for me,” he grunted, trying his best to not be greedy and thrust already. She needed to take all the time she needed. 

Slowly at first, Y/n moved her hand up and down, discovering that with each tug, his dick became smoother and wetter to the touch. Just looking at the massive cock in front of her made her nervous to put him in her mouth. He was just...so big. And the length was there too, along with the girth. This was quite the achievement for her first time. She tried getting him completely there with each flick of her wrist, speeding up gradually, slowing her hand up around the tip and thumbing the slit at the end. He was long and hard, his tip pink and dripping after her thumb dragged away from his slit. She wasn’t sure the effect it would have, but suppressed a grin when he jerked in her hand. 

He jolted with a deep moan that made her eyes shoot up to his in shock. 

“Fuck, that felt good,” he admitted, voice thick. 

It made her feel proud, that he sounded so breathless and bothered by her hand moving on his dick. The way he breathed it through his lips, like he was thinking it to himself and hadn’t even meant for it to come out, but he couldn’t help it. Kind of made her want to kiss him again. 

Grayson looked quite brooding over her, with a sharp dropped jaw and puffed up chest. He watched her every move when she couldn’t be bothered to tear her eyes away from his cock being pumped to filth by her own dainty hand. He carefully took her fringe back and behind her ear as her mouth came up and kissed his tip. Grayson quivered on his own bed, rolling his head back from the feeling of her soft lips that pressed against him for just a second. Such a soft gesture, with some dirty intent. The sight of her lips pressing to the tip of his cock almost affectionately, made him more desperate than he’d admit, like she loved it. 

“Take off your top,” she spoke quietly, wanting to see his body. He obliged, yanking off his shirt with lightning speed. Her eyes went wide at the first sliver of his toned stomach that appeared and she gulped. Damn, she was nervous by how fit he truly was. Grayson always did have a certain love for fitness she always admired. 

She’s brought back to the matter at hand when she feels a warmth on her hand, her gaze dropping to his dick once again. He sat hard and waiting for her next move, whatever that was anyway. Thankfully she didn’t have to ponder for much longer because Grayson rides in on that white horse to save her once again. 

“Just take the tip now, babe,” he soothed her through his, grabbing her hair in his hand lightly once he settled into just the right position. The little pet name had slipped out, and for a second he thought she didn’t notice until her lips curved into a smirk. Y/n is closing her eyes and leaning in close, wrapping her lips around him at last. Tight, hot, and wet. All the sensations he felt when her lips finally enveloped around his tip. 

“Jesus Christ,” he swore, heart hammering away from just the first feeling of her. 

He really didn’t know what to think when her tongue started swiping and rolling along his shaft. She figured that maybe it wasn’t all about the sucking. Maybe she could play around a little, give him kisses up the side, wet and sloppy. Look at him while she tongued at his tip, smoothed her tongue over his balls for just a second. 

“Oh fuck, roll your tongue on my just like that, that’s it,” he groaned, hips jerking from all the teasing on his tip. He’d always been a sucker for that sort of thing, she was learning his weak spots early, “doing so good, angel.” 

She hummed with a smile, batting her eyelashes up at him in hopes of looking at precious as possible. He looked like a sweating mess above her already, droplets glistening along the lines of his tanned abs. 

“Shit,” he panted heavily when she stuck her tongue out and took a hard lick to his tip once again, tongue sliding up his thin slit to flick against her teeth - her hand wrapped around his base. 

She rubbed him up and down, going just a bit faster and spreading her spit up his length. 

“Is this okay?” she checked, gazing up at him, continuing to twist her hand. 

“Yes,” he swallowed, “Yes, just uh fuck- go a little fast for me, Y/n. Move your hand faster.” 

She flicked her wrist against his throbbing cock, feeling much more confident now that he was moaning quietly and his chest moved rapidly with his quickened breathing. He was losing it, absolutely losing it, but he would try to keep it together in case she needed more guidance. But she felt sexy as hell - powerful even. Looking up at his eyes with a flutter to her lashes, a smirk coming up her face that he couldn’t detach his eyes from even if he tried. The little devil knew her power over him. She had to at this point. 

“You liking this, Gray?” she smiled brightly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

“So fucking much baby, doing so good for me,” he grunted, head thrown back in bliss with just her hand stroking him. 

With the new found confidence blazing through her and his eyes not watching her every move for once, she raised up again and held her hair back, her hand a bit sticky for obvious reasons. She didn’t have time to worry about a sticky hand when she was about to suck dick for the first time, Grayson’s dick at that. 

Slowly she slid her lips down his shaft, focused on taking medium length pulls that soon sped up once he had gathered her hair back and she could place both hands on his thighs to steady herself. 

“Meet your lips with your hand, baby,” he moaned, biting at his lip, watching her take as much of him as she could. 

Not having enough energy to do much else other than comply, she closed her lips tighter around him, feeling her saliva drip down onto her fist that met with her lips now. However; all she could focus on was the way he was breathing, the heavy rise and fall of his stomach. The sighs and moans of her name that spilled out of his mouth to encourage her further. She could feel his thighs shaking slightly, which made her head spin from the mere thought of him being so overworked by her actions. She sucked at him faster, and she soon realized she loved the dirty suction sound her mouth was making around him, the way his cock reached a place deep down her throat. 

“Fuck- mhmm gonna cum,” he got out through his pleasured whines, “stop babe, back up m’cumming.” 

“I know,” she assured him. 

She knew what was coming. But she’d come this far so it wasn’t like she was going to stop. She hummed around hum and it just made his pleasure increase, the hand holding her hand wrapping just a bit tighter with selfish desire as he took one last deep breath and closed his eyes with relief. 

He finished in her mouth in long, hot spurts. Spilling out on her awaiting tongue. Y/n kept sucking, trying her best to keep her lips tight - having some thought that if she just kept sucking he would be dry at some point, but he was still wet with her spit. 

He was wrecked before her, absolutely spent. He panted loudly above her as she swallowed and looked back at him with her doe eyes and a hopeful smile. 

“Was I good?” she teased sweetly. 

Fuck you, he wanted to say, so fucking high on pleasure that he honestly would have if it had been any other person besides her. He was just that caught up. But instead of that crude comment, he chose to fall back on the bed with a huff and a “Fucking hell.” 

It was nice to see him completely spent and worn out like he was, she had to admit. Made her feel powerful, like she wasn’t some princess that just had to have the world at her feet. Although, watching him flop back on the bed with a smile did make her feel like she did carry the world in the palm of her hands. He was...beautiful. 

“It’s just not right that it was your first time,” he joked, still panting, “you’re so good at it.” 

Finally having the strength to lift herself up off the floor, she stands on wobbly knees and confidently crawled up his body, careful of his sensitive length laying against his abdomen. Even when he wasn’t hard he was massive. It blew her fucking mind that a man could be that attractive, that he actually just did that with her, that he was then wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close to his sweating body. He opened his eyes breathlessly just as she leaned in and gave his lips a gentle kiss. Light like a feather, but sweet like honey. 

“So,” she traced a shape on the tanned skin of his chest, “does this make me a bad person?” 

He wanted to laugh, he really did. But when he looked back at her, she looked seriously concerned that she might have ruined something for herself. And for that, he brought his lips to hers once again for an even longer skin. He rolled his tongue out to slide against her own, and not being a bitch boy, he could taste himself on her mouth - the thought making him smile. They really just did that. 

“No, my love,” he whispered, “it makes you a very, very good one.” 

My love...my love...fuck. 

She laughed at his lame compliment. In retaliation, and just because he wanted to, he gave her a light spank that made her gasp in sharply. By the time she had time to open her mouth and speak, he had already rolled them over and attached their lips. They giggled against one another’s mouths, Y/n holding his hair, Grayson rubbing his thumbs across her hips. 

“I don’t want this to be over,” he admitted quietly to her, forehead resting against hers lazily. He knew this was a dreamland and he would have to wake up to a frat house full of passed out drunks and a fuck ton of trash to clean up. But she was...damn near impossible to stop kissing and now that he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like to have her in his arms - he doesn’t want to let her go.

It made her heart flutter to hear him say something so honest and raw in a time like this, him being naked and pressed on tip

“It doesn’t have to be...” she trailed off, not knowing if he meant he didn’t want the night to end or something deeper. 

“Yeah? You sure you want to hang out with a fray boy? I’ve heard they're jerks,” he teased, tickling at her side and grinning when she wiggled in his arms. 

She nodded against his chest, not having enough courage to respond, but wanting to give a response anyway. She had to admit, she was overjoyed when Grayson slid out from under her and wrapped her up nice and snug in his bed, sliding right in next to her and pulling her close. 

She didn’t know what it meant for them, what this meant for her, or where the fuck they stood. All she knew was that Grayson’s lips sprinkled kisses across her face just to help her fall asleep that night...and no one in her life as ever made her feel so worthy. Loved. Touched. Not just psychically, but emotionally, spiritually, and beyond. And for once the thought of being close to someone didn’t scare her.  

tags: @episkygrant​ @highoffdolan​ @mercurygrant​ @indiyaesthetic​ @livelongdolan​ @dolandolll​ @aquadolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @blindedbythelightt​ @persistence-ofmemories​ @deeperdolan​ @zeusgrayson​ @nikesbailey​ @dolansaint​ @goldenndolan​ @kate-the-holland​ @money-is-the-reason-we-exist​ @hereticryan​ @dolansontheblock​

[delicioussshame]

In the never ending series of “things that aren’t wips because I can’t, I have to finish something before starting something else”, have this thing I posted as a wip before, featuring a version of PIDW where LBH collected his harem... differently, with guest star NYY.

Luo Binghe immediately recognises the man dressed in cultivator garb as Yingying’s shizun.

Beautiful and serene, she said. The perfect image of an untouchable immortal, dressed in white and pale greens. Always holding a fan of exquisite manufacture.

But more than her vivid descriptions of her shizun’s loveliness, he remembers what she said next.

She’d been lying on her side, her long cascading hair not managing to hide her luscious curves.

Luo Binghe had known she wouldn’t be ready for another round just yet, and so had been pleased to listen to her lighthearted pillow talk.

Today’s topic had been her exasperation with her shizun’s lack of sex life.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how obtuse he is. Liu-shishu has been courting him for years, and I don’t think he ever noticed. And don’t get me started on the sect master! All Shizun would have to do is bat his eyelashes and the sect master would drop everything to worship him! But no, he never takes him on it. For a while I thought maybe Shizun just preferred women, but more than one female disciple has tried her hand at him, all to no avail.”

Luo Binghe could imagine the type. Cultivators could be lofty. They think they’re above the needs of the flesh.

He always enjoys teaching them how wrong they are.

If the demonic part of his heritage revels in desecrating those pompous righteous cultivators, no one else could tell. Luo Binghe was too good at his chosen hobby to let his personal feelings interfere.

“I love and respect Shizun more than anyone. Without him, I would never have become the kind of cultivator who can afford A-Luo’s company. So I am motivated by filial piety and nothing else when I say that I have never met anyone who needs to get laid more than Shen Qingqiu.”

Luo Binghe had laughed. “Oh? Is Yingying going to replace me with her old teacher?”

Her scandalised look had sent him into another bout of laughter. “A-Luo! I would never!”

“Then why is she telling me this? Does she want me to take care of him?”

Ning Yingying had stared at him, a glint in her eyes. Luo Binghe could see the plans form in her head as she spoke. “Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would do wonders for Shizun, and I know A-Luo loves breaking people like him.”

Luo Binghe had blinked, inwardly caught off-guard. He wasn’t blind. He knew Ning Yingying was a lot more observant than she appeared. It wasn’t the first time she had made that kind of comment. “Yingying knows me so well. Should I be worried?”

She had swapped at him. He could have easily evaded the blow, but he didn’t bother. “A-Luo doesn’t have anything to fear from me. But honestly, if I sent Shizun your way, would you take care of him? I really think he could benefit from it. And Shizun is very beautiful! Many will definitely be jealous if they ever find out.”

Luo Binghe had nothing against the idea of taking a peak lord to bed. He bet Xin Mo would love to feed on such high-quality cultivation. “I would be honored to entertain your teacher.”

He could tell from the way she had brightened he was about to be thoroughly thanked.

She had paid him too, both for herself and for her shizun’s future visit. Generously enough that Luo Binghe had wondered if he should praise her filial piety to her shizun.

She didn’t lie either. Shen Qingqiu really is exquisite.

Not as handsome as Luo Binghe himself, but nobody is. “You must be Shen Qingqiu.”

“Luo Binghe, I presume.” Luo Binghe cannot quite decipher the look he’s being given, which is rare enough to catch his attention. He’s pretty certain there’s some attraction there, but the rest? Trepidation? Outright fear? Disdain? Excitement?

He’s sure he’s going to find out. He gestures for Shen Qingqiu to sit down as he moves to prepare tea. He could have one of his servants handle it, but Luo Binghe has always preferred taking care of things himself. That personal touch has seduced more than one client, if they didn’t visit him only for his food.

Shen Qingqiu drinks the offered tea in silence before he starts talking. “If you would please tell me your fee, I will be refunding Ning Yingying a corresponding amount. I am sorry for wasting your time, but I have no interest in procuring your services.”

Ooh, that’s cute. If Luo Binghe wasn’t an expert at perceiving the signs of physical attraction, he might even believe him. Shen Qingqiu is interested, he’s sure of it. He’s just a prude, like Yingying said. “Yingying won’t accept it. Why refuse her most thoughtful gift?”

“My disciple should put her money to better uses.”

“I assure you, employing me is money well spent. You could find that out yourself.”

Luo Binghe bites back his amusement as the man stumbles, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t… a credit to your profession. Please don’t take it personally. As I said, I have no interest in finding out myself.”

“But how will it look if you were to leave without finding out? My reputation will be hurt.”

“How could something this insignificant hurt the reputation of such a famous courtesan?”

Luo Binghe grins. “So even renowned cultivators have heard of me? Nothing bad, I hope?” And where did an isolated scholar like him caught wind of such lowbrow rumours, huh?

The sigh he’s answered with does not cloak a hint of amusement. “How many of the sect’s disciples have you seduced? You even managed to steal away Liu-shidi’s little sister, whose beauty and virtu are known across the land. Of course I have heard of you. More than I would have liked, if I am allowed to be honest.”

Ah. He should probably have expected that. Cang Qiong is full of eager young men and women. Apparently, Shen Qingqiu isn’t such a recluse that gossip doesn’t reach him. “I see. Still, you must have heard good things, or you wouldn’t have come into my parlour.”

Red is a good look on the man. Luo Binghe feels the first stirrings of desire rise into him. He just knows Shen Qingqiu would be stunning, lying despoiled on those formerly pristine robes, trying to discover what he’s begging for more of.

Not to mention he can almost hear Xin Mo purr. What a feast Shen Qingqiu will be.

Time to press on.

Luo Binghe reaches for the now empty cup of tea he’s certain Shen Qingqiu drained without tasting, making sure to caress the fingers still holding it with a touch just light enough to possibly be accidental, if one were very dumb or very blind. “Let me serve you again,” he says as he pours more tea with deliberate grace.

Instead, Shen Qingqiu rises from the table. “Don’t bother! I am obviously wasting your valuable time. If you won’t share with me how much Ning Yingying paid you, I will compensate her otherwise.”

Like Luo Binghe is letting him leave like this. “Would you have me waste the tea already prepared?”

“Drink it yourself! Surely it’s nothing compared to your usual breaches of propriety.”

Damn it. Luo Binghe miscalculated. Shen Qingqiu is too spooked to be open to further advances. Really, what a prude, to be so destabilised by a simple brush of hands.

If he can take a step back and defuse the tension enough for him not to leave… “You seem in such a hurry. Do you think I force myself on my visitors? I’m hurt.” As if he ever needed to use force to have someone.

Well, never without their consent, at least.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem like he’d be into that, but then again, people can surprise you.

“I’m not scared! I just have no reason to be here any longer. Thank you for your time. I’ll be leaving my student in your care.” For a moment, there’s a glower in his eyes that Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “Be good to her, or my next visit will be far less pleasant.”

Aww. Shen Qingqiu cares! How cute. “So I have to get a bit rough if I want to see you again?”

His outraged face almost makes him laugh. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or are you looking for an excuse for our paths to cross again? I assure you it’s unnecessary. I’d welcome you anytime.”

“I will keep that in mind,” says Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly, already crossing the door.

Luo Binghe lets him leave. Obviously, this will be going nowhere today.

Really, he’s offended. He cannot remember someone rejecting him so blatantly, ever. Worse, Xin Mo will be cranky. A treat was dangled in its metaphorical face, and then was cruelly taken away before it could have a taste.

He can’t let this humiliation stand.

He won’t have to. The delicate fan Shen Qingqiu came with, red spider lilies on a stark white background, is still on the table, forgotten in his haste to leave.

Luo Binghe’s customer service is impeccable. He’ll be returning the abandoned item himself.

It’s not like finding the peak lord of Qing Jing will be a challenge.

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

Hey! I just discovered your blog and I was wondering if you'd be okay doing a Lance tucker x reader where they get in an argument but it has a fluffy ending where they're closer than they were before? Maybe they confess their feelings to each other? I totally understand if you're not able or comfortable to write this.

Merry Christmas! 🎄🤶🎅🌲🎁

Authors Notes: Hey! I hope this is something similar to what you were looking for. They’re expressing their feelings in some way, just maybe not the way you’d think. I hope you like it!

Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: Arguing, swearing, insinuation of possible cheating, and some downright shitty friends.

Word Count: 3K

Trouble in Paradise

(Not my gif)

_______________________________________________

It was New Year’s Eve. The year had been stressful to say the least but even worse, Lance’s buddies were coming over for a party. It’s not that you didn’t like his friends. Well, it was that. You didn’t like them. Ever since you and Lance got together three years ago, they have done nothing but try to convince him to date hotter women. “Date” being a loose term.

Overheard conversations during football games and dart/pool games and the basement went something like this.

“Oh, come on Lance you saw the chicks you used to pull. They were smokin’. Why don’t you just live again? Or better yet, you don’t even have to break up with her! Just, you know, tell her you got competitions and when she doesn’t suspect it, book a couple hotel rooms. What’s the harm?”

“Lance, buddy, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t exactly have a trophy wife. Aren’t you the one with the gold medal? Shouldn’t you be looking for a gold medal wife instead of a bronze one?”

“I like her Lance, I really do, but remember that Victoria’s Secret model you hooked up with regularly like 5 years ago? What was her name... uh... Serenity! Yeah, why don’t you give her a call. You guys seemed to really click.”

The worst part of it all was they never really got to know you. They brushed past you while you cooked some food for them in the kitchen. You and Lance took turns cooking but somehow you always found that you were cooking when his friends were coming over. You had never really put much thought into it, until tonight.

“Honey! I’m home from the gym!”

You were making taco dip, guacamole, homemade Mac and cheese, and Buffalo chicken dip for the big party. You ordered pizzas, subs, and other sides to top it off. You never knew how much 8 men could eat, until you started cooking for 8 men.

Lance came up behind you and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “How’s my pretty girl doing?”

“Fine, I guess.”

You both knew you weren’t fine.

Lance sighs loudly. “Angel, what is wrong? You know I just want to help you.”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to get in my cooking zone and not think about anything.”

Lance puts his hands on his hips and stares at you authoritatively.

“Well, I’m gonna go quick grab a shower and come back down to help you finish cooking before the boys come.”

“Sounds good” you said with a half-smile. You were dreading tonight.

_______________________________________________

True to his word, Lance came down and helped you finish cooking the rest of the food. It remained quiet for most of the time you spent together. Lance could feel the tension in the air but didn’t want to ask again if anything was wrong before the party. It was New Year’s Eve, he was supposed to be celebrating with his friends, not trying to start a fight with you.

You were infuriated Lance didn’t bother to ask you why you were so upset. You always felt second to his friends, why is that? The first year you were dating it wasn’t like that. You were the center of attention in all regards, you didn’t want to be, but he treated you like the only girl in the world. Now?

“Hey babe I’m going out with the guys I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew full well he would drunkenly slip under the covers at 3AM. Why was he out so late? What was he doing?

“Sweetheart the guys are coming over to play pool do you mind ordering us some pizzas?” Why couldn’t he do it himself?

You really did not mind that Lance had friends. You encouraged him to hang out with them even though they said horrible things about you, but enough was enough. There’s hanging out with your friends, and there’s being with your friends 24/7, leaving your girlfriend to stay home and watch movies by herself.

After you finished cooking you went upstairs to the bedroom to watch a movie. By yourself.

Surprise, surprise.

You heard the front door open for the first time tonight. You wondered if any of the guys would bring over their girlfriends or “hot dates.” You didn’t know if that would relieve your stress or infuriate you even more. If they did bring someone, they wouldn’t be so focused on it being a “boys’ night.” However, if they did bring someone, why couldn’t you come downstairs to hang out with them?

You heard a slap of hands exchanged and what you assumed to be a half hug after it.

The men continued to pile in around 8PM. Some of them brought a date, but others didn’t. However, you noticed one of the guys brought two girls. Why would he do that?

You decided to put on some nice clothes to go downstairs. Other men were bringing their dates, and this was your house. You deserve to celebrate too.

You worked your way down to the basement, wanting to spend time with your definitely above average looking boyfriend. You were so happy to call him yours, even though he frustrated you to no end sometimes. From what you overhear, he never sticks up for you.

You strutted over him and placed your hand on his back gently. He quickly turns around, angry almost and begins to say something “I told you I don’t want.... oh, hi baby.”

You looked at him confused. What was that about?

“Hi... what’s uh, what’s going on?”

“Oh nothin’. Just Evan and I got into it earlier about something and I thought he was coming to bother me about it again. But then I turn around to see your pretty face and that doesn’t even matter.”

He brings you in for a tight hug and rests his chin on your head. You loved him. You loved him so much.

Out of nowhere Evan comes up behind you, noticeably drunk, the scent of liquor oozing off of him. There’s a girl attached to his right arm. She’s tall, slender, and blonde. You thought she was too attractive for Evan, until he started to speak.

“Lance, meet my girl Lindsay here. She’s really interested in you and wants to talk to you about your gold medal.”

You can’t say this never happened. You were used to women throwing themselves at Lance. You were always so proud to call Lance yours, but other women wanted that opportunity as well. It got so bad to the point where women would send random lewd photos to his work email to gain his attention. It never worked thank god. Every time you saw pictures like that you got suspicious, but every message read “don’t you want to see what you’re missing out on?” or something to that degree. Lance was always patient and kind with you about it, knowing you were easily frustrated and cautious of him because you knew what he was like before. However, you knew he wouldn’t cheat on you, and he always has an explanation if he thought you were ever worried.

“Excuse me?” You said looking at Evan.

“Come on Y/N. Let the man have a little fun.” Evan retorted.

“This isn’t letting him have ‘a little fun.’ Letting him have ‘a little fun’ is hosting this party, not you trying to actively encourage him to cheat on me, right in front of me no less.”

Lindsay sneers at you. “Who are you? Get in line sister. Evan told me I would get to talk to him.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I have to spell it out for you, if you can even spell, but I’m his girlfriend.”

“Y/N come on baby it’s not that big of a deal. She just wants to talk to me about my gold medal that’s all.”

“The gold medal you won in the Olympics or the one tattooed around your dick Lance?”

“I’ll only talk to her about the one I won in the Olympics and you know that.”

You had had it. You were so incredibly tired of Lance never sticking up for you when it came to situations like this. You never threw a fit when his friends would make stupid remarks, but this was the last straw.

“I don’t care anymore Lance! Talk to her about your dick tattoo. Hell, let her even see your dick tattoo close up while she’s sucking you off. I’m done.”

Without giving him a second glance. you turned on your heel and walked upstairs to grab your car keys.

Lance sprinted up the stairs after you, shouting your name. You didn’t care. You ran to the garage and hit the button to open the door. Lance thought you went to your room, so he sprinted to the third floor thinking you were there. He finally realized you were actually leaving when he heard the start of your car. He saw you back out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, and all he could do was watch from the window.

_______________________________________________

You drove to the nearest diner, hoping they would be open even though it was New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, they were. You always comforted yourself with food when shit like this happened. Who doesn’t love food? You can’t say that entirely though. You also tended to starve yourself in situations like this as well. Neither coping mechanism was healthy, but it got you through it.

You ordered a breakfast meal, quickly glancing at your phone to see if anyone had texted you.

24 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

You knew he was worried about you, but you weren’t ready to call him back yet. You knew he couldn’t come searching for you either, all of his friends still being inside, waiting for the ball to drop. This was going to be the first year you and Lance wouldn’t kiss at midnight, all because of his stupid friends who hate you for no reason.

You ate your meal as you saw Ryan Seacrest introduce one artist after another on the television.

The clock was nearing midnight. You didn’t seem to care. You contemplated going to your friend’s house, knowing they would gladly accept you and support you, especially when they knew how much of an ass Lance’s friends could be. You decided against it, not wanting to bother anyone.

You glanced at your phone again.

28 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

Not only that, but it had looked like he texted you as well.

“Where are you going???”

“Y/N???”

“Baby come back here please I’m very upset and I want to talk”

“Baby please come back and talk to me.”

And about 15 other messages similar to those.

You were heartbroken. You wanted to go home, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

As the many thousands of people in NYC count down to the New Year you sat and ate your bacon and pancakes.

Lance saw all of his buddies laughing and having a good time. He couldn’t have a good time until he knew you were safe and that he would have everything fixed. He knew he fucked up big time, but he thought you were overreacting to the extreme. Was it really that bad you needed to leave right away?

His annoyance throughout the night grew as Lindsay began to pester him about his interests.

“Lindsay, I don’t know how to tell you this in a nice way, so I won’t. I have a girlfriend. She’s the sexiest, smartest, and sweetest woman on this planet, and that’s all that matters to me. Now please, go bother Johnny or somethin’.”

Lindsay didn’t like that. So much so, she dumped her whole glass of whiskey on his brand-new Nike shoes. He didn’t care she was upset. All he cared about was you.

Evan came back up to Lance for the last time of the night.

“Heyyuh pal. I didn’t mean to make your lady run out on ya.”

“But you did Evan. You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking fucker. You ruined this night for not only me, but my girl who is probably out sobbing to her friends about how much of a shit boyfriend I am. And you know what? I don’t blame her. I deserve it.”

“C’mon man don’t be so *burp* hard on yourself. Hey, at least you can go have fun with Lindsay eh?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows.

Lance was fuming. “Evan if you don’t get the fuck out of my face, I’m going to floor you in about 6 seconds.”

Evan held up his hands and backed away, finally getting the hint he was becoming a nuisance to not only Lance, but the party itself.

He listened to all of his friends count down to the new year in a drunken haze. He slouched over the home bar, drinking himself into a stupor with his seventh gin and tonic. He didn’t care about any of the calories he was consuming. He didn’t care about anything. He knew he wouldn’t have his Angel to hold and kiss into the new year. He wanted nothing more for this night to just end.

_______________________________________________

You snuck back into the house around 4AM, hoping Lance wasn’t awake. You drove around for hours after the ball dropped, the diner closing at 1AM anyways. You listened to 80’s music, calming yourself down. Music always helped you meditate.

As you slowly closed the door you saw Lance sitting miserably in his recliner. He was no longer drunk. Just incredibly depressed.

He turned to look at the door, hoping that the door opening and closing wasn’t just some sleep induced hallucination. As soon as he realized it was you, he jolted up and ran to give you a hug. You stuck your arm out before he could reach you.

He looked devastated.

“I want to talk Lance. I-”

“No, no I fucked up. Let me do this. I have been shit. I have been absolute and utter fucking garbage to you when it comes to my friends. I let them talk to me like I’m still a bachelor. I know you overhear the things they say, and it hurts you. And I let them do that. I don’t know why. I have no reason. It was so fucking stupid of me. You have to know I don’t want any other woman on this planet. You’re my day and my night. I would be lost in this depressing ass place of a world if it wasn’t for you my sweet Angel. My beacon of light.” He stopped his rant briefly to cup your face and stare into your eyes lovingly.

“It all stops here. No more stupid guy shit. You’re my number one and you deserve to be treated that way. If any of my friends continues to disrespect my baby, they’re out. I don’t care who they are and how long they’ve been around. You’re my baby. You’re the only thing that matters.

It felt like a weight had just been lifted off of your chest. You loved him. You really did.

He pulled you in for the tightest hug that he could have possibly ever given. He kisses the top of your forehead for what seems like a hundred times.

You look up to him while he’s still embracing you.

“I like Johnny. Johnny can stay.” You say with a smile.

“Keeping Storm it is, got it.” He returned with a smile.

A lightbulb goes on in Lance’s head. “Oh! Come here, come here, come here. I saved this for you.”

You follow him into the living room, your hand wrapped in his. He flicks through the TV menu, clicking to find the recording from earlier.

It was the ball drop.

“I recorded this for us. I didn’t want to miss kissing my baby into the new year.” He said with a smile.

“Lance Tucker, you are the sweetest man alive, do you know that?”

“C’mon, you know I’m still an asshole. I just have my moments.” He says with an eyeroll.

You slapped his chest playfully as you both slightly laughed.

As the seconds ticked down to midnight for the second time of the night, Lance stared into your eyes with the most love you have ever felt from a person.

“10!”

“Where did you even go anyways?”

“9!”

“Our spot.”

“8!”

I’m gonna take you on the best date there ever was. Just you wait.”

“7!”

“I’ll be counting on that Tucker. A promise is a promise.”

“6!”

“I’m really good at keeping promises.”

“5!”

“Oh really? Just like that time you promised to give me a castle made out of gold?”

“4!”

“You’re still getting that y’know.”

“3!”

“What other promises have you kept huh?”

“2!”

“I promised to love you forever. And I always will.”

“1!”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

He kissed you with a ferocity you didn’t know existed. He took your bottom lip into his mouth and held it there for what seemed like forever. Forever was okay though, as long as you were with him.

Lance finally broke the kiss, pulling away softly and cupping your face in his left hand. He whispered.

“Check your cardigan pocket.”

You looked confused. He knew you would be. You felt a tiny box in you right hand pocket. It was covered in felt. You slowly pulled it out to see that it was a ring box. You opened it and it had a ring pop inside.

“Ha-ha. Very funny Tuc-”

You looked down to see Lance on one knee. Holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m going to love you forever, Y/N. Will you marry me?”

You were stunned.

“...Yes.... oh my god, YES!”

He smiled, standing up and wrapping his arms around you as fast as he could.

“I’ll love you forever too, Lance.”

[amethystpath-writes]

The Society

(NOT A PROMPT)

The grandiose room would have been extravagant had Nahzi been seeing it from anywhere other than the stage. She was a prop- no. A prop was hardly noticed. Nahzi was the whole exhibit, ready for viewing, prodding, and throwing insults at.

“She looks uncomfortable.” I’m stuffed in a too-hot dress.

“Her hands shouldn’t be covered in those gloves. They are for the elite class- for the Society.” My hands are scarred and Garnor thought they would be too ugly to look at- said it would distract from my ‘pretty, scratched face.’

And what did it matter anyways? Nahzi was a Society member’s property, so the gloves should have made the elite class feel well. This lady had no right. Then again, Nahzi didn’t want the Society gloves. She didn’t want them. She wanted them off. Now. Goodness, she never even thought about the meaning behind it. Nahzi was adorning their clothing, becoming more and more like them. Her stomach twisted.

“Is she capable of lifting her lips at all?” Into a snarl, perhaps, but that would only get me into trouble. “Garnor must have found the perfect routine. I should ask him about it after the Gathering. Misfortune befall you, Creature.” You used to be a Creature, too.

Did he say ‘routine?’ If unpredictability was routine, then yes. If Garnor was so great at what he did, why wasn’t Nahzi his wife yet? And why wasn’t he the one with special abilities?

The gloves were itchy now. So was the dress. The pins in Nahzi’s hair. They didn’t belong on a Creature.

Most of the critics were women, ones all dressed up in uncomfortable gowns and with faces powdered themselves. Looks like they fell right into their new roles. Women with pale, olive, chocolate, and all skins had fallen victim- had all been manipulated so easily by those around them. There were a few men who had fallen prone to a woman’s influence, too, but they were much fewer than the alternative. There was no particular reason- only an easy pattern Nahzi noticed too soon as she stood broadcasted on the stage.

A hand landed on Nahzi’s waist. Her first reaction being to pull away was a mistake as it rattled the chains hanging from her wrists, drawing the attention of all the hungry sharks. Nahzi dropped her gaze, but kept her chin angled high. She had nothing to be ashamed of as long as she defied Garnor. He would want her to speak; she wouldn’t.

“You have received many compliments, I heard.”

Nahzi nearly hummed mockingly, but that was just as close to speaking as deliberately saying, ‘Go screw yourself.’ She swallowed, taking a small breath. Still, Nahzi said nothing, but she did turn her chin to make eye contact with Garnor. He hated it when she did so. Hated it because it meant she didn’t acknowledge him as a threat. Garnor forgot Nahzi wasn’t a puppy dog like the rest of the bitches here- literally and metaphorically speaking.

“You know what happens when you ignore me.”

Ignore you? Is that what you call this? Nahzi made a tss sound, one that gathered more attention than she meant. Everything she did was an attraction. Everything. It was why she remained so silent, and otherwise so obedient- despite her grandest wishes. It broke her- literally- to be so docile. However, fighting the guests would have caused a ruckus that Nahzi would not be able to survive later. The silence, on the other hand, that she could deal with the consequences of- because Garnor didn’t understand the importance of it.

The chain was grasped at Nahzi’s left wrist, and she was pulled into Garnor’s chest. Hating the gasp she gave, Nahzi turned her head away, her arms becoming riddled with chilled bumps. Contact be damned. Looking him in the eye usually caused him discomfort. That was…until the reason it happened was because she’d been frightened by him enough that she glanced.

“Look at me.”

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Tongue on roof of mouth. Nahzi plastered a look of contempt on her face- the same expression she always bared until slip-ups like the one just now. She faced him again, blinked, and nearly smiled when Garnor frowned at her self-control.

“You will regret making a fool of me.”

Nahzi shrugged. Maybe I will, maybe I will not. See, as horrible as the punishments sometimes were for not being Garnor’s little trophy-power wife, it was always somewhat satisfactory to watch him stomp around like a toddler throwing a tantrum. That satisfaction was all she needed to protect herself.

“You are going to perform.”

For the first time this night, Nahzi’s lips parted. What? she almost said but caught herself and snapped her jaw shut, lips forming into a defiant frown. No. You can’t make me. But Garnor could, and Nahzi knew that; she just liked to tell herself better.

“Your hand.”

She shook her head, stepping back. The stage was large, but not large enough that Nahzi could outrun Garnor. Of course, she had chains on, anyway. Nahzi thought even without them she had little chance- especially when surrounded by so many people who saw her as nothing other than an animal which needed taming.

Not here, Nahzi thought. Do not turn me into a performer in front of them. Them- all the people a part of the Society. A bunch of rich brutes and their dainty and lesser partners, taking in people like Nahzi to starve to death if only for entertainment. It was a vicious cycle that Nahzi wished to someday put an end to.

“One of them will take me,” Nahzi said, and her voice was rasp and unpractised from her long hours of rebellious silence. “You know they will.”

“Good, then you will smile when you receive your next compliment.”

As horrible as Garnor was, she didn’t trust that others in the Society weren’t worse. Nahzi heard stories of Miss Meighleen’s Creatures being damaged so far beyond repair that the husband smashed it with one of those meat mallets used in the kitchens- killing it once and for all.

At least its life was ended before it could become such a horrible and mindless contribution to the Society. Still, Nahzi had no wish to die. She preferred this constant fight and struggle over an endless motionlessness.

It. Nahzi used to be called that…before Garnor assigned her a name and gender. How unfair? Nahzi never paid attention to that change before but now…now as the gloves itched, and the dress scratched her skin…as she spoke to Garnor as a plea to remain as she was…it was all this which made Nahzi realize with raised brows…she was becoming one of them. It was this change, she realized, which was the cause of her misfortunate state now- the reason she had ever been able to be put in these horrendous chains, ones that pushed her fingers into unusable fists.

“I could not perform even if I wanted,” she whispered. Nahzi touched a closed, useless, and restrained fist to her lips, then to her eye as a tear slipped and she tried to hide it. The sniffle was unconcealable, though.

Was this it? Was Nahzi finally broken in after months- or was it years- of a hard, dreadful silence? After rebellious glares and jerks away from touches? But she still felt Creature-esque. Still felt angry at this change, at this sudden transition of sacrifice.

All this time, Nahzi thought, and whimpered in the back of her throat, I thought I was making such strategic sacrifices. Not fighting the visitors because it might have meant more torture behind-the-scenes, which would have meant submission. When all along…those sacrifices were acts of submission, and they were adding up- so quickly that Nahzi didn’t even see it coming until this very moment.

“Your hand,” Garnor said again, and this time Nahzi didn’t even have the capacity in her mind to reject him, to- to defy him, even in an aggravating glare. She stood still, sniffing with eyes wide open as she recounted each of her small sacrifices, only realizing that she doomed herself, and that Garnor hardly had to step in to do it.

As her hand was involuntarily lifted, Nahzi began to wonder, Is this my species’ fate- to become slaves to the Society? Have we no way to eliminate the threatful parts of ourselves?

The restraint around Nahzi’s fists fell away, clattering to the ground in a way that the sound ricocheted across the room, ringing in all Societal ears, ringing their attentions to the stage where an unrestrained Creature now stood sobbing to herself.

Nahzi clenched her fist at her own free will, but as she released her fingers to reveal her palms, a string of glowing white light slithered out, skittering across the air in bounded hops…right towards Garnor.

The Society, which had congealed into a massive, crowded audience erupted into cheer, laughter, and applause as the white caressed Garnor's hand, gliding across his knuckles and around his shoulders before steadily sinking into his skin.

Meanwhile Nahzi fell to her knees, head in her hands as she sobbed at her loss of powers, at her sense of being having been so cruelly ripped from her with hardly a moment’s notice.

Now, if Nahzi ever wanted her abilities back, she would have to do to a Creature what Garnor did to her. Or rather, what she did to herself. Could she do it? Could Nahzi continue the cycle of thievery and grievances just to reclaim what was stolen from her, even if it meant stealing from another?

Would she become a part of the Society, or would she find a way to tear it at its seams from within its gates?

[thesaltysocialworker]

For the first time

For the First Time

Synopsis: You and Loki are long-time childhood friends, who made an agreement about a certain birthday and your virginity. Both of you are too scarde to act on your feelings, but Sif sets a plan in motion using Thor to make sure you end up with the man you love.  

Warnings: Sex. 

“So what do you want to do for your birthday this year?”

             You friends sat across from you as you picked at your breakfast. “I’m not sure. Maybe just a quiet night in.” You strategically moved your food around your plate making it look like you ate something. “A quiet night in? That’s it?” One of the other young women asked. You muttered something about thinking about it before dismissing yourself from the group, rising from the table in the golden halls of the Palace of Asgard. You retreated to the gardens, the sun rising and casting beautiful hues across the dewy leaves and grass. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t even hear one of your friends chasing after you. Sif, one of the few noble ladies in Asgard that you actually liked.

             “You’ve been positively melancholy for days, y/n. What’s going on?” You lingered on the edge of the gardens, glancing back into the halls and at the two royal young men eating with the warriors three. “Walk with me?” You asked Sif, and she nodded. The two of you disappearing into the gardens and away from the crowds. “It’s Loki—“ You started, and Sif rolled her eyes. “It’s always Loki. Why don’t you just tell him you have feelings for him and save us all the longing gazes and tension?” You shook your head. “He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember, Sif. We made an agreement about this particular birthday.” You started, wringing your hands together uncomfortably. “What was the agreement?”

             You glanced around one more time before speaking softly. “If we were still virgins at this age, we’d be with each other.” Sif actually sputtered with laughter at this. “Then you should be looking forward to this birthday, you already know what you’re getting from Loki!” You slugged her in the arm and she laughed. You weren’t as strong as Sif or the Warriors Three; your talents were more like Loki’s. You were quite the master of magic, though not quite as strong or as well-versed as your friend. “That’s just it, I know he’s not a virgin but I still am. So what if he intends to collect on our bargain? I’m going to look like a fool, I’m not going to know what to do!” You felt more panicky as you spoke, your voice rising in pitch ever so slightly. “Or worse, what if he doesn’t want me?! I’ve seen him flirting with other women at court.”

             “You’ll know what to do, it’s pretty natural. Trust me, he wants you. I can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he speaks about you.” Despite Sif finding your turmoil rather foolish in the scheme of things, she put her hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “So why don’t we have a party here? Thor has offered to let us use his chambers. That way you’re not too far from home and you can have that ‘quiet’ evening you wanted. Or at least as quiet as it gets where Thor is concerned.” Sif smiled, and you nodded. “Thank you, for listening. I knew if I told the others they’d laugh me away from the table. I know you think it’s silly in the scheme of things.” The two of moved back into the hall, where the population had thinned out greatly. You parted ways from Sif, going to the library to study.

             Sif waited until your back was turned when she approached Thor. “Thor, I need your help with something.” She gestured him away from the warriors three. “Is everything well?” He asked, concerned for his friend. “Oh, I’m fine. I just need you to lavish y/n with attention tonight. It’s her birthday, and your brother still hasn’t told her he has feelings for her. The only way he’s going to do anything about it is if we force his hand.” At first, Thor looked like he was going reject the idea completely. But then he gradually broke into a coy grin. “Sounds enjoyable.”

             “I also volunteered your personal chambers for the party spot.” Sif announced as she stepped away from him. “You’re always volunteering me for something, Sif!” Thor called to her retreating frame, and he swore he heard her laughing as she walked away.

               Thor’s sitting area was beautifully decorated in your favorite colors, with appetizers and drinks set out before the guests. As soon as you entered the room, everyone shouted Happy Birthday, as if the party was a surprise. People greeted you one-by-one, and you could see Loki lingering near the fireplace speaking with one of your girlfriends. She laughed, batting her eyes lashes at the youngest prince. You felt the color drain from your features. It was all you could focus on, until the elder Prince stepped before you. “Happy birthday, y/n. You look radiant.” He grinned, blocking your view of Loki and your supposed friend.

             “Thank you, Thor.” You forced a smile. Much to your surprise, he wrapped you in an embrace. You couldn’t hide the evident shock on your face, you’d always thought of Thor as a big brother but the embrace was oddly intimate. When he released you, he placed a hand at the small of your back and led you to the couch closest to the gifts and the food. When you sat, you noticed Loki watching the two of you with not so shielded interest, and maybe just a hint of jealousy? Thor got you a drink as you settled in your seat, and offered you one of your gifts as your friends started to gather around. Then he sat beside you. “Please, open mine first.” Thor handed you a small box, wrapped in brilliant gold paper. “You didn’t have to get me anything, letting us use your space was enough.”

             “I wanted to do something special for you, you deserve it.” He draped his arm over the couch and around you as you opened the gift, and you noticed a hush of whispers throughout the room. You wanted to ask Thor if he was drunk already, but thought it rude. You just couldn’t understand his sudden interest. You had tugged the golden paper off a velvet box, and when you clicked it open you were shocked to find a beautiful ruby set in an intricate gold setting. It was near gaudy, but it was beautiful and glistened in the candlelight of the room. You lifted the chain and held it up to let the others see. “Thor, this is beautiful! Thank you so much. You really shouldn’t have.”

             “A beautiful gift for a beautiful woman.” He winked, setting his drink down. “May I put it on you?” You nodded, and Thor stood brushed your hair ever so gently off your neck as he clipped the ruby into place. Your friends exclaimed how beautiful it looked, and you could feel the jealousy flying off of them. “It’s kind of heavy.” You laughed, turning it over in your hands. You were given a few more trinkets from your friends; books, sweets, perfumes. Then everyone moved to mingle with each other. You’d been speaking with one of your friends when Loki finally approached you. “May I speak with you, privately?” He asked, his voice a low growl. “That’d be rude for the birthday girl to leave her own party, Loki.” Sif added, sliding up next to you and wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

             Loki opened his mouth to respond and Sif caught your arm, dragging you away from him and onto the next guest. “What’re you doing, Sif?!” You whispered as she ushered you across the room. “Helping you land your man. Just follow my lead.” You glanced back at Loki over your shoulder, mouthing ‘sorry’ at him. You could see him becoming uncomfortable, angry even. The lines of his body had tensed, his jaw went rigid, his hands clenched into fists. When you turned back around you were toe-to-toe with Thor again. “Dance with me, y/n.” You were clearly shocked, groups had moved to dance on the open floor near the near fireplace. You were in Thor’s arms before you could even answer, moving to a quick and upbeat rhythm across the room.

             “Sif put you up to this. Didn’t she?” You asked, finally connecting all the dots. “Perhaps I simply find you charming, y/n.” He spun you out from him, and when you came back towards him your back fell against his chest. His large hands fell to your waist, it felt oddly awkward and uncomfortable. But it was enough to throw Loki right over the edge. Over the music you heard glass shatter, the music halted as the wine glasses shattered and red wine washed over the floor. The table that had been holding the appetizers was also made of glass, and had also shattered causing food to fall into the wine. “What in Odin’s beard—“ Volstaag practically shrieked, watching the food soak in the wine with mourning. You knew what had happened, especially when Loki made his escape without much notice.

             “Go to him before he comes back and does that to my head.” Thor winked at you, occupying the guests and staff while you snuck out of the room after Loki. You slipped into the hallway and saw Loki retreating to his room with long strides, trying to get escape as quickly as possible. You lifted your skirts as you chased after him, quite literally having to run. “Loki, stop-“ You called out in a stern whisper as not to attract attention. His shoulders tensed, but he stopped. “How kind of you to leave my brother to come check on my well-being, you seemed to be enjoying yourself so much that you couldn’t even take the time to receive wishes from your truest and oldest friend.”

             “Sorry, I could tell you were trying to bed my friend and I was trying not to ruin it for you.” It was amazing how Loki could get under your skin so easily, drove you to anger and insanity. Loki seemed confused by your words. “I was showing her my gift for you.” You felt your cheeks turning red, and you suddenly wished for a spell to make you vanish, or a hole to open up and swallow you. He pulled the small box wrapped in emerald green paper out of his pocket and offered it to you. “Why would you think I’d flirt with your friends? The only woman, the only person I’ve ever had eyes for is standing before me now.” You felt your heart leap into your throat, especially once you opened the box and saw a beautiful and intricate ring sitting on the velvet inside. A gold band with a massive emerald.

             “Is this—“ you started to ask the question, finding it hard to speak through the knot in your voice. “I hope it to be, yes. I consider it a promise. Just like the one you and I made many years ago about this very evening.” You turned as red as the ruby Thor had given you that evening. “I thought you’d forgotten.” Loki chuckled, a mischievous grin meeting his eyes. “It’s consumed me, y/n. I’ve practically been counting down the seconds.” You shook your head, glancing to the floor out of embarrassment. “Loki, I know you’ve been with others.” That cocky smirk only continued to grow. “I don’t deny that I’ve been with other women. But those other women were only doing their job. I wanted to practice so I could make this evening perfect for you.”

             “You went to the Royal harem to practice for this evening.” If it wasn’t so bizarre, so oddly Loki, you may have been offended. You offered him back his gift, and you saw his face fall, the color drain from it. “Please do it properly, place it on my finger.” He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and slipped it on your finger. He then offered you a hand, and you knew if you accepted that hand there’d be no turning back. You took his hand and let him lead you away from the party and towards his chambers.

             You’d been in his chambers before, but the intimacy of this moment was difficult to miss. He’d lit candles, dimmed the lights and set out your favorite wine along with chocolate covered strawberries. You were nervous, he’d been practicing for you and you’d never done this before! You thought about drinking that whole bottle of wine yourself to loosen up, but you wanted to remember this moment with him. Loki seemed to notice your tension, his hands falling to your shoulders. He pressed his lips to your temple. “Relax, love.” He whispered, his breathy whisper sending chills down your spine.

             “May I?” his hands fell to the buttons of your gown. “You could use your gifts and free me of this gown. Why take the time?” You whispered, his lips moving over your neck. “I want to savor this moment. I want to savor you, and take my time as my hands explore every inch of your flesh. Somethings are worth the extra work.” You whispered a soft ‘yes’ and he began working the buttons down your back, his fingers tickling your spine. You felt the silk of your gown fall down your body and pool at your feet. You felt Loki’s fingers brush over the soft skin of your stomach, your sides and up your thighs. “You are more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined. But this-” Loki pulled at the ruby that Thor had given you. “Has got to go.” He slipped it over your head, placing it on a nearby table. You had to smile a little at his jealousy.

             You spun around, standing there in only your panties. His pupils were lust blown as he tried to take in every inch of you. “Come here, my love.” He pulled you towards him, bringing your hands to his shirt. You worked quickly, thankful he wasn’t wearing his armor as you felt yourself growing inpatient. You pushed his shirt off his shoulders and couldn’t help but run your hands over his sculpted muscles and pale skin, you were almost entranced and in that moment you lost your fear. He hummed his appreciation, pulling you closer. The feel of his cold leather on your skin was a different sensation, and you found yourself pushing your thighs together. Loki noticed your not-so-subtle attempt to quench your desire. He lifted you, his hands falling to your backside as he carried you to his bed. While you were against him you felt how hard he was against your stomach, and the fear came back. He was huge, how painful was this going to be?

             The two of you fell to his mattress and the green silk sheets. Loki brought his lips to yours, it started gently and sweetly but it grew heated. You could feel him trying to restrain himself for your sake when he wanted to plunge in. But he was about your comfort, your speed. As he kissed your neck, moving his lips lower to your nipples he moved to the waistband of your panties. He glanced up at you to ask for permission, but lust was clouding your logical thought. You raised your hips off the bed and towards his hand. “Please.” You practically begged. He fingers moved over you, pressing against your sensitive nub as you gasped into his mouth. As his fingers created their own magic, he moved a finger inside you, allowing you to adjust to the sensation. He moved in and out slowly, your groan causing him to grin as he moved to your other breast with his lips.

             You could feel yourself tightening around his fingers; a sensation that was totally unfamiliar to you. You felt your universe begin to close in around you, the only thing that existed in that moment was you and Loki and the pleasure coursing through your veins. It was like cracking glass, and then it shattered as you tightened around his fingers and waves of pleasure crashed over you. He gave you a moment to collect yourself, but somewhere during that time he had removed your panties. You were eager, you helped him shimmy out of his trousers and he positioned himself over you. “You’re holding your breath, y/n. I could take the pain away.” He whispered, burying his face where your neck and shoulder met, taking in the softness of your skin, the scent of you. “I’ll be fine, Loki. Please.” You were begging him, because even through the fear you wanted him, all of him.

             Loki slowly but surely pushed himself into you, and you gripped his shoulders tightly. It was uncomfortable, and you held your breath. But then he wasn’t moving anymore. “Are you well?” Loki asked, and you nodded. He moved slowly, letting you adjust to his size and pace. “You are perfect, love. You’re so tight.” Loki purred into your ear, causing goose pimples to rise over your flesh. You couldn’t tell where he ended and you began, you felt in rhythm with him, you felt as if you were one being. Your hands moved across his back, over his sharp features and ran through his hair. You wanted to remember everything about him, you were trying to memorize him with your fingertips.

             “I love you.” You whispered, feeling the pressure coiling with-in you again. “And I you.” Sweat had started to form on his brow, his hips moving quicker against your body. “Please, Loki. Please!” You begged, desperate to fly off that precipice that he had sent you hurtling off of before. He reached between your bodies, his fingers toying with you as he continued to move and you couldn’t imagine a more amazing sensation in all your days. There it was, and it was better with him inside you. You clenched down on him, and with a few more thrusts and his hands latched on your hips he released.

             He caught himself before he collapsed atop you, rolling over and keeping you with him; pressed against his body as he rained kisses down on your lips, your forehead, your nose. “You did perfectly.” Loki whispered, his fingers moving over your stomach. You recognized the spell, a contraception spell. “Thank you, for being a patient teacher.” You whispered, a small smile dancing on your lips. “You’re not a difficult student to work with, y/n.” He chuckled.

             Loki pulled the blankets up over the two of you, continuing to hold you against his body. “I’m sorry, about earlier. I think we got set-up by Sif and your brother.” You whispered, nuzzling against him. “Then we owe them a thank you, don’t we? I don’t think we were the only two in that room withholding feelings for one another.” He grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. “We’ll repay them in-kind in the morning, Mischief.” With the snap of a finger, the lights were out and you were asleep beside Loki but before you drifted out you couldn’t help but look forward to your next lesson.

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 2

Author’s Note: Hey all! Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! This one will have a lot more of our favorite prince and paramour and the reader is such a badass. I’m really having the most fun writing this you guys have no idea����

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sex

Enjoy, love you all and as always, feedback is welcome!

——————

The brothel smelled of incense and sex. The men who had paid for the services apparently had no reservations about silencing their pleasure, nor the women. You were mildly annoyed by it all. You didn’t care or consider it lowly to work or attend a brothel, but it just seemed so...fake. People pretending that what they were feeling was love or passion when really it was just men finding release, both from sex and from their normal lives, and women getting their coin.

Not that you really knew what actual love was like, but you did know it wasn’t this.

One of the girls brought you to a room near the back. The ornate doors swung open to reveal who you could only assume was the prince and his princess. You weren’t really sure what you expected, but you found yourself shocked. He looked princely, certainly, but you weren’t expecting him to be so...striking. Bronzed skin against golden cloth...he looked like a work of art. And his princess was equally captivating. Her dark locks cascading against her dress seemed to compliment her lover’s own clothes. They both seemed to have a strong demeanor, even while they were allowing themselves to be vulnerable, wrapped in each other’s arms. Both of their heads turned to look at you, brown eyes meeting yours. You wondered how their gaze could even fall upon you when you were presenting them with the finest women the capital could offer.

The women you now know as Ros introduced you by both birth name and the one bestowed upon you through the tales spread throughout Westeros. The prince smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. The woman in his arms might as well have been undressing you with her eyes.

“The Silver Hawk.” He smiled, taking you in. He left his paramour’s side to stand before you. Your guard wasn’t easily lowered by attractive people, but even you had to admit they were both intimidatingly beautiful. The prince’s exposed chest and the heat of the princess’s eyes had your heart beating faster than you cared to let on. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother told me the stories about you and your silver arrows. Is it true that they were enchanted by the gods so that you can never miss?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I trained hard to achieve the level of skill I possess, I assure you.” The stories people told about you these days were becoming more absurd by the day. And you were slightly offended. To just be handed a gift with no hard work, no sense of accomplishment was no gift at all.

“Will we get the chance to see you prove that?” Ellaria asked hopefully as she joined her prince’s side.

“Perhaps.” If the Lannisters or any other of the terrible people in this city continued to annoy you, you didn’t doubt it, but you were not going to put on a show...Even if the Dornish woman did make your heart beat faster in your chest.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” She smiled with a wink.

You cleared your throat and focused. You were here for a reason after all, and that wasn’t to entertain the guests with your skill. “The hand of the king, Tyrion Lannister apologizes for his absence this evening, but he wanted to offer these ladies as a welcoming gift and hopes you’ll excuse him.”

“A gift indeed.” His eyes raked over you, the woman behind him smirking. “A shame that Tyrion hides such an exquisite woman behind the ugly walls of the Lannister dwelling. You should be out in the sun, letting more people admire your beauty. Too bad...In Dorne, it would be a crime to hide such a rare gem.” It almost seemed like the prince couldn’t hide his desire, even if he wanted to (which he most certainly didn’t). His eyes traveled everywhere, from the tips of your boots to the smallest hair on your head.

You’ve never experienced whiplash before, but you imagined it felt a bit like this. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Not many people could catch you off guard, but not many people were so bold, especially towards you. You could do little to disguise your shock and you took a moment to find your voice. “Prince Oberyn, I am not an option here if that is what you are implying.” You retorted, rather defensively.

“That is not what I am implying, but it is interesting that the thought occurred to you.” He flashed a devilish smile and you wanted nothing more than to punch it off his handsome face.

“That is not what I-“

The prince placed a finger to his lips and you wanted to scream with anger at how easy it was for him to silence you with one simple action. He grinned before backing away, returning to the Dornish woman. “Ellaria Sand, my paramour.”

“It’s a pleasure.” She greeted, her voice dripping with a sultriness that would have made someone with less composure than you blush.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You replied, trying to recover from their boldness. You tried to remain calm, you made a promise to Tyrion that you would make the guests feel welcome. Why he trusted you with this particular task was beyond you.

“Hmm, I doubt it.” Ellaria grinned her eyes still raking over you.

A room full of half-naked women and they settle on me.

Both of them, flirting with the same woman right before their own partners. It intrigued you that they both shared the same lover. Neither of them seemed to care much about the gender of whom they chose to sleep with, only their beauty. They possessed a different type of freedom, one you were unfamiliar with. Your freedom was found when you were hunting, climbing trees, the rare times you found yourself near an ocean. For them, it was shameless passion and love, taking pleasure anywhere they could get it unapologetically. Life was theirs to enjoy, nothing could take that from them.

Which is why you found the fact that they were singling in on your armor-clad body so shocking. You couldn’t comprehend how anything you were wearing could draw their attention in a lustful sort of way.

“You should reconsider, by the way. We are very generous lovers. What a privilege it would be to say we made love to the stunning Silver Hawk of the North.” Oberyn raised a brow at you as he took a berry between his teeth, tongue swiping against the tips of his teeth, making a show of himself before actually eating it.

You cursed your skin for becoming so hot.

“Let me make myself clear Prince Oberyn.” You began, finding some strength to your voice again as you remembered your place, your. “I am not a whore. These women here, they are your options. What you decide to do with them is your business, but I am a guard to the king’s hand and I demand to be treated as such. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the palace.” You turned on your heel to leave, impossible without the prince having the last word.

“One more thing.” His voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned just enough to face him.

“When was the last time you experienced pleasure?”

All you could see was red.

“The first time I shot an arrow through an arrogant man’s chest.” Before you could stop your words they were already hung in the air. You were prepared for the prince to draw the dagger you noticed hanging at his hip, but he made no such move, his hands still around his paramour.

And he smiled.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Silver Hawk.”

“If I see the Red Viper again it will be too soon.”

You stormed out of the brothel, drawing looks from all those around you, but you didn’t care. They both got to you, in more ways than one. How did they break you down so easily? Not even the queen regent possessed such power.

And you prayed to the gods old and new that neither of them would tell Tyrion. You knew it was a false hope, but the last thing you needed was Tyrion scolding you and even worse, letting people know they could both get to you. Your whole life you let your rage burn quietly in your chest, letting it fuel you rather than consume you. But their smirks, their roaming eyes, their words made you feel something you hadn’t in a very long time.

And you threatened him, the Red Viper of Dorne. It wasn’t as if his reputation and stories escaped your ears. He was skilled with every weapon you could think of. To top it off, if he didn’t wish to kill you with a weapon, he was an expert in poisons as well. It was a relief that he wasn’t staying in the palace now, you’d have to find somewhere else to eat and drink every night just to avoid death.

King’s Landing was becoming its special sort of war zone. This was the game of Kings and Queens, Prince and Princesses, none of which you were. It was as if you had been dealt a hand that everyone knew you were going to lose. The Lannisters and the Martells, amazed you how two completely different families could be toying with you, a pawn in this royal game.

Oberyn and Ellaria were just the most skilled players.

As if you needed more people in King’s Landing to worry about.

—————————

“I like her.” Ellaria laughed, still in the arms of her lover. The couple had chosen their girls for the night but sent them waiting for a moment as they discussed you. “You were right, she’s stunning lover. And she has a bite, not many people would challenge you, a prince and a fearsome warrior. I fear we may have scared her off though.” Her smile faltered a bit at the idea of losing their next lover. She wanted you, and there was only so much time before they would be separated by their return to Dorne.

“She is a wild one. Not many women like her. I’m not sure I know many soldiers with her reputation and skill, whether they be man or woman.” He noted as he tucked a strand of his paramour’s hair behind her ear. “I did not expect her to be so offended by us. I don’t think she is as familiar with the pleasures of the bed as we are. We may have to...coax her.” He suggested, scanning Ellaria’s dark eyes, as if he were attempting to read her thoughts.

“She is a strong woman, in every sense of the word. That it itself is something rare, and she knows that. I suspect she thinks we are mocking her, somehow undermining her.” Ellaria noted, recalling your behavior. “She thinks we want to pay for her services, thinks she’s just another girl for us. You may have chosen the wrong moment to be so bold, my love.” Ellaria tried putting herself in your shoes, but it was difficult. Many people knew the legends of the silver hawk, the assassin who never misses, but fewer knew the origin of your tale, how a young woman came to possess the skill of men twice her age, maybe even better than that. But she imagined if she worked as hard as you said you did, only for a man, a prince, to single you out among brothel girls, as if you were one yourself, she could understand your anger.

“Think about it my love,” she began, “you did not exactly explain to her what we were proposing. You cannot blame her for assuming we saw her as another one of Little Finger’s girls.” Ellaria chided as she traced featherlight touches against her lover’s exposed chest.

“A gentler approach may do us good. You are anything but withholding when it comes to who you desire, and at least now she knows. But you may want to start winning her favor with some sort of peace offering.” She ran her hands through Oberyn’s dark curls as he looked at her like a man in the desert looked at water. The Sand woman knew her lover like she knew her own heart, and she knew she was not the only woman who had turned him on this evening. “Go to King’s Landing tomorrow and find her. Don’t apologize for wanting her, never that, but offer our friendship. That may be a good place to start?” She asked, wanting to know what her lover thought.

Oberyn gave a hum of approval before taking his lover’s hand and kissing her palm. “You are the wisest of women.” His hand moved her own so that her palm was now resting on his cheek, his soft, brown eyes still raking over his paramour. “I will go tomorrow to offer our friendship and make peace. I have a feeling that even if we remain friends with her, she will be a powerful and useful ally. She could be just the person we’re looking for to get me information on my sister’s murder.”

The prince’s face turned somber. Ellaria closed her eyes and placed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Do not forget that she works for a Lannister, lover. She may not be so willing.”

But Oberyn shook his head. “No. When I went to the palace the Hawk had her sights on Cersei the entire time. I thought she was going to pierce her with an arrow right in the throne room. She makes an exception for Tyrion, but otherwise, I suspect she has a distaste for Lannisters as much as we do. She may be at least willing to listen to my proposal.”

Ellaria sighed and ran her hand down the prince’s toned arms. “Perhaps, but I don’t want her slipping through our fingers. I want justice for your beloved sister, but I want her too. She is a strong woman, capable of defending herself, but she should not be put in harm's way.”

Oberyn nodded, but he could not shake the deep-rooted desire for vengeance. Every time he saw a Lannister all he could think of was his enchanting sister and her sweet children, and the unfair fate they were given. “I will simply speak to her and offer friendship tomorrow. Her spying was just a thought.” He added, keeping his calm. “We have to earn her trust first and foremost, a task that I’m sure will prove difficult all on its own.”

“Neither of us have been known to back down from a challenge.” She laughed before kissing his collarbone.

“We will just have to convince her of our desires.”

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@ilikechocolatemilkh

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

the worlds collide - i: an old face

Summary: Who are you? Now that the new world has collided with the remnants of the old? 

Pairing: BTS x reader (slight Got7/Jackson x reader)

Warnings: Referenced violence, covert sexism, zombies  Notes:  I knoooow I should be working on lessons to build and looking back at you but this idea just won’t let go. I originally wrote it for my 30 minute challenge but it got out of hand. So here it is, a zombie au! Not sure how long it’ll be yet but we’ll see! UNEDITED. Word Count: 3.2k

At the center of the end of the world, humanity was stripped to what it only needs to exist - strength, camaraderie, and grit.

With the undead nipping at your heels day and night, the only thought that remained were thoughts of where the nearest exist is, how to store food, how much farther for the next stronghold, and how long will that stronghold last. To survive, you stripped away everything unnecessary from your former life. All the bashfulness, the shame, and coated yourself with an armor as thick as the new callouses on your fingers - you still remember the first time you’ve went topless around Namjoon, and neither of you flinched.

Frankly, you’ve forgotten how to be anything else but this brought you to your new role in the new world. You’re no longer a girl, or a woman - you’re a survivor.

And with your old life etched in the sinew of your muscles, of your arms and your legs, you became a valuable member of the group. Along with Jungkook and Hoseok, you carry the front, bashing heads of zombies left and right, clearing the way to a new possible food source and haven.

It was a tiring existence, the type of tired that can’t be washed away by sleep. If that’s what you can call those pockets of peace you have when you’ve finally trusted them to watch your back.

It took long for you to finally drop your guard around these boys that you now call your family. Understandable, given that men didn’t really have a great track record for women to trust them even prior to the apocalypse. But you’ve met them in a tight circumstance, that had them trusting you before you even bothered to try.

(It was Jimin who first reached out, somehow unchanged by the cruelty of the new world. Always soft, always yearning.)

The seven of them had been friends before shit went down, and you were just a lucky one to be part of their orbit.

You remind yourself of this now that the new world has began.

This is the longest you’ve stayed in one place since two years ago, and it’s starting to feel like a place everyone could plant their roots in. The town’s largely untouched by the apocalypse, its strategic location in the mountains and quick response had them building trenches and walls, to keep the hoard from closing in.

It’s an extra precaution thoughtfully made by a self-sustaining community. For once, isolation brought forth more benefits than mishaps. They’ve barely lost people, largely untouched by the terrors of the world outside theirs. Innocent. Their lives went on. No nightmares, nothing.

The first time one of the pleasantly-dressed girls approached you with what could’ve been friendship, you flinched.

The boys were taken to it so easily, perhaps being as weary as you are didn’t make them jaded as it has made you.

Namjoon was swept away by the village committee, his brains and leadership evident with how he led you to safety. Jin and Jimin’s apprenticed under the village doctor, Yoongi’s turned to farming along with Taehyung, while Hoseok and Jungkook’s muscles are put to test building houses at the craft shop.

Everybody’s found a place except you, because while this town’s been untouched in all the good ways, it’s also been untouched in a sense that it kept to all the antiquated ways of the old world.

And, you hate how much you resent it in your deepest of hearts.

It’s as if they thought that putting you in a dress will wash away all the blood in your hands, as if you didn’t shed as much as all the boys did if not more. You’ve been turned away from all the things you could do, and are now being forced into things they want you to.

It’s suffocating, being torn with the desire to put your foot down and the fear of being perceived as ungrateful.

“They don’t understand, do they?”

You blink out of your thoughts and turn to a familiar face making himself comfortable beside you.

Jaebeom’s pushed away the unfinished basket to the side and pulled up one of his long legs to rest his elbow on.

By his side is his gun, locked and loaded, always ready even after months of quiet. You didn’t even hear him come in, but instead of being unsettled, you’re a slightest bit relieved to know that at least someone hasn’t gotten rusty.

The scar on his eyebrow stands out underneath the moonlight, and on  the porch of your little house way’s away from the center of the town, you two make a fine pair of outsiders.

“No, they don’t.”

Even in times of peace, loss is inevitable.

Namjoon mulls over this as he looks at the list of names up for the next supply run. Two names have been crossed, and two funerals were attended last week. One had a body, another didn’t.

Old man Jungho died of a heart attack after his son died outside, and along with the grief, Namjoon could feel the pressure placed on his shoulders by a community unused to “unnatural” losses.

He’s developed a cycling procedure that makes it slightly fair to everyone who volunteered. Marked with blue ink are the ones who were in the previous run, those in black are the ones who are up for the next one.

With the latter list down by two, Namjoon turns to a different corner of his notebook to see your name. Until now, he’s had every excuse not to put you out there but now…

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighs and rubs his face with his hands. He doesn’t know why you’ll want to do this again. He’s tried asking you but somehow, you’ve grown farther and farther away.

When he tried to find you in the village garden with Yoongi, suddenly you’re out getting water. When Seokjin did your monthly checkup, you’re as impenetrable as the walls, when Hoseok tried to approach you with improvements for your home, you brush him away saying you’ve dealt with it with Jaebeom.

Jaebeom.

Whom you’ve only met a month in after you’ve settled into town. Who somehow’s been rumored to visit your house after dark, when the boys you’ve spent two years with haven’t even gotten the chance to step into your home.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. You’ve been so unreachable it’s made him cry out of frustration when the nights are dark and the seven of them feel your absence the most in their own quaint home.

They miss you, so much. Even Yoongi who’s as taciturn as they come has tried reaching out to you, working endlessly hard in his own little garden at the back of their house to produce strawberries that you love so much.

“Who’s on the list?”

Hoseok steps in the kitchen and jolts Namjoon out of his longing. He’s wearing his “fight” pants and boots, his gun taken out of the secret cellar and empty go bag slung on his shoulders.

Namjoon pushes his notebook towards him and watches as his friend’s face grow dark at the sight of your name.

“No.”

Namjoon sighs at the conviction in his friend’s voice. It draws in Jungkook from the living room, wearing the same pants and same tension in his shoulders every run.

It’s different when it was just the seven of them, now, they have to lead a bunch of unseasoned people outside the walls just so they don’t go in blind when - not if - shit hits the fan. The loss of the Youngho weighs heavily on Jungkook. They were of the same age, but not the same life experience and ultimately, that was what killed him.

“No, what?”

Jungkook takes in the tension of the room and glances down at the open notebook. “Oh.”

He mouths your name silently, treasuring each syllable. How long since he’s called you? How long since you two talked? Back outside, he liked to believe you and him had a special bond born in the midst of danger and trivial common hobbies from the old world.

He still has that photo card of an old gaming character you two loved.

“I can’t play favorites.” Namjoon states, teetering between duty and keeping you safe inside the walls. If you knew, you’d probably hate him for this, but you don’t.

“You can - you have!” Hoseok slams his hands on the table, the sound echoing inside their house. Everything falls silent followed by footsteps from the second floor.  “What makes it different now?”

“The difference is the fact that we lost someone!” Namjoon bellows, his anger and stress rolling off him like waves but Hoseok doesn’t stand down. He knows its selfish, but the only thing that has him going now that you’ve pulled away is the knowledge that you’re safe.

“We always lose someone—“

“It’s not just us anymore, you know that, Hobi.”

Hoseok bites his cheek at Namjoon’s use of his nickname and he could feel the rest watching him like a hawk. All at once the fight goes out of him. It’s true. In exchange for safety, the get a community - for better or worse.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he turns to Taehyung, who in turn offers a strained smile. “At least, she has two of you to keep an eye on her out there. Like old times.”

Hoseok never thought he’d feel nostalgic about the times they’re elbow-deep in zombie gut but — “Yeah, like old times.”

Except, it isn’t like the old times.

Jungkook’s always been an awkward guy around girls, especially pre-apocalypse. He was all long limbs and Bambi eyes, not quite steadfast on what he was as a man and easily shaken by every attractive girl’s attention.

And although he’s grown a bit, confident in his looks and skills in this new world, he still hasn’t mastered the art of rejecting someone.

(He’s never had to, not when it was you.)

And so, he’s stuck at the last meeting with his back against the wall and one of the town’s remaining daughters - Hyerin-  crowding his space as opposed to being beside you across the room.

He doesn’t even know that Hyerin signed up for the run, especially with how he’s told her that it’s dangerous and that she hasn’t had the proper training to go out there. It rankles him all sorts of wrong when she said that her father said that “it isn’t as dangerous as they made it out to be” as if they’re lying about the dangers they’ve faced.

And sure, they’ve cleared out a large space around the town of zombies but things can always go wrong, and if there’s anything Jungkook has learned is that things have a habit of luring you to a false sense of security before fucking everything up.

Hoseok’s giving the briefing to their small group of ten, and he could see his friend’s eyes linger a second too long whenever it passes you. You with your hair pulled back and back straight, it almost brings him back.

But then you smile at something Jaebeom says and Jungkook feels his chest tightening on cue. You haven’t smiled nor even looked at him since the start of this briefing. What had he done wrong? What have they done wrong that drove you away?

“We might encounter people on this run, and I want you to remember - people are more dangerous than zombies.” Hoseok reminds the group, “They can think, they can plot - and are much harder to predict. We’ll need someone to bring up the front before we flank the space—“

Before Jungkook could raise his hand, yours shoot up along with Jaebeom’s.

“I’ll do it.”

From the back, Jungkook could clearly hear the murmurs of the men in the group. Someone, someone stupidly brave enough speaks up, “I think you should let the men handle this, darling.”

Jungkook sees you put your hand on Jaebeom’s arm before turning to where the voice is. It’s one of the older folks, large and burly with eyes alight with mockery.

You smile sickly sweet, “Oh? I’m not the one who puked on the side of the road during the last run, am I?”

The man sputters and laughter erupts around him, his friends who were equal parts terrified at the sight of a half-torso crawling towards them last month. It’s easy to laugh when it’s not your ass on the line.

Before he gets another word in, you remind him, Hoseok, Jungkook and everyone in the room how dangerous you were on the outside. And how dangerous you still are here.

“And for the record, could you stomach killing a man when you can’t even finish off a zombie? I can,” you pause the silence being answer enough, “So, no, I’m not leaving this to the men.”

“Antagonizing them isn’t earning you any points.”

Keeping your eyes on the road helps you steady your nerves. Outside, you could see the remains of pushed over cars as your caravan makes its way away from the forest and down the mountain.

According to the last team’s run’s intel, there were traces of people loitering down the town proper and so Namjoon’s sent a team before you get caught unawares.

Hoseok coughs, “Y/N. Are you listening?”

“I didn’t know there were points to earn.”

One line, and its scathing but, Hoseok thinks, at least you’re talking to him. He was afraid he’s forgotten your voice.

He may have abused his power a bit to split you up from Jaebeom but it still makes sense, given that you two have worked together longer outside. You with your speed and him with his agility, you make a pretty good team.

And with your pretty face, people tend to underestimate you until its too late.

Hoseok pauses and mulls over your statement. Adjustment is hard, he knows, pandering to people who don’t know how hard it is on the outside but it’s needed. He doesn’t understand where your dislike of it comes from, so much so you’ve decided to ostracize yourself not only from the people in town but also from them.

(He’s a man. Of course he doesn’t understand. Old or new world, men can only touch the surface of what damage the world has done to women.)

“Y/N, it’s just so we could live with them peacefully. No trouble.”

You finally turn to him and he shivers from the coolness in your eyes. “When have I caused them any trouble? I help out, don’t I? I’m a functioning member of the community - is it required to be all chummy with them?”

Framed like that, Hoseok doesn’t have any answer but a semblance of the truth lying in a question, “Why don’t you talk to us anymore?”

Outside, the caravan reaches its destination and people pour out of the old trucks.

“Is there anything to talk about?”

Of course, of course there is, Hoseok wanted to say. But job calls, and  when the sight of tracks greet your group, everything goes back to the back burner.

By the looks of it, there were at least four people about. All with large feet which most likely mean they were males.

Hoseok made a executive decision and sent back all of the group except you, Jaebeom and Jungkook. Given the situation, your group had too many people for this run turned reconnaisance and moving that many people will slow down any retreat you might need to do.

So he sent them back up with a message to Namjoon about the situation. He’ll get a lashing later but he’s sure the guys will understand. A small group is more manageable, but a group with established trust and dynamics (at least with the three of you) is more than ideal.

Your tracking leads the team to one of the larger convenient grocery stores in town. It’s long been looted and cleaned out, but somehow, one of the older craftsmen in the village figured out how to run the generator. Now, it’s store room is being used to hold and freeze any meat and fish you can’t afford to salt. How long you’ll have it running with the generator, who knows?

At what previously was an aisle for chips and snacks, you and Hoseok tread lightly, guns cocked and hands steady, your ears straining to hear any off-beat step as you get deeper into the store. Somewhere across the room, you know that Jungkook and Jaebeom are doing the same, closing off the larger exit.

It’s four on four, the odds may not be on your favor if it comes down to it but it’s not on theirs entirely either -whoever they are.

The morning light filters through the broken glass windows and reflects on your gun as you step forward to the large space at the end of the aisle. At the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook, -free of that girl hanging off his arm- tilt his head towards the large freezer ahead of you.

Behind him, Jaebeom moves to the right, taking position for a surprise attack while you three continue to advance. The freezer’s door is slightly ajar and you could almost make out the conversation and the shadows moving about inside. There’s unfettered laughter and guffaws, pulling you into a false sense of familiarity.

That laugh…

You were so in your head that your next step crushes a stray glass and echoes in the store. For a moment, it rings in the air, suspended like Hoseok freezing to look at you, before suddenly everything just- drops.

Out the door, someone tackles you to the ground, grabbing your gun and tossing it under the shelves. Your head bounces against the tiles and it steals your breath in pain but without missing a beat, you drive the heel of your palm to the man’s chin, hard enough to unbalance him off your waist.

The man rolls to the side and tries to grab your foot before you break free and kicks it to his face. With satisfaction, you hear him grunt in pain before grabbing at you again.

To the side, you see Hoseok trying to reach you, his gun similarly tossed away by the paler and taller man clutching his shoulder, slumped against a turned over cart. You’re ears are ringing, and you might’ve hit your head but vaguely you could hear someone punching someone at the other side of the aisle.

Everything happens so fast - and ends so quickly.

Your vision clears up as a cock of a gun rings clear, pausing everyone’s movements.

In front of you is a face you’d never thought you’d see again. He’s darker, with what seems to be a permanent five o’clock shadow on his jaw, but his eyes light up at the sight of you and a smile stretches on his lips, his hands up but uncaring of Jaebeom’s gun against his head.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

You gasp, frozen on the floor. “Jackson.”

End Notes: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know what you think and if you want to be included in a tag list!

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Ask Blooper Fic/JamilxKalim Angst and slight jealousy

Ok ngl I started this fic in response to a Possessive!Jamil x Kalim ask but read the ask wrong and started writing Kalim as the possessive one (as best I could cause he’s a softie) then half way through I realised my mistake so I took a completely different route and put angst instead because that’s all I seem to do recently. Nevertheless enjoy and Anon that requested the Possessive!Jamil x Kalim fic, I’m sorry I messed up. The correct fic with your ask is coming.

And yes, I still don’t know how to properly end a fic. (Just pretend I do, lol)

I wanted to be with you

 Parties were a large part of Kalim’s life. As the son and heir of a wealthy family with extremely high status it was normal for the teen to attend parties all the time. So he had become quite accustomed to socializing and being the center of attention. The sweet boy never realised that when he attended parties, his personal servant and in his mind, best friend, Jamil would never dress up or speak to anyone besides him. Despite never seeing Jamil as a servant in the back of his mind it was always apparent that they were different in many ways. Of course being preoccupied with a party his easily distracted brain often forgot that Jamil would follow him, but never too close, and make sure he didn’t trip, or would retrieve things for him at any time Kalim asked. Never had the white haired boy realised that before he was allowed to touch any of the food on his plate, Jamil would yet again put his life on the line and test all the foods for poison. He was so oblivious to these things growing up that he was surprised when they finally had the chance to attend a party together as equals.

   Across the room stood Jamil, dressed in a stylish outfit with arabian accents that expressed his homeland well. He also wore gold pieces of jewelry that Kalim had never seen before. They went well with his round gold earrings which sparkled in the right light. His eyelids were painted in a dark bronze that faded as it travelled higher and his eyeliner made his dark eyes seem slightly more almond shaped, which gave them a mature, sexy appearance. In all he was gorgeous in a way that Kalim had never seen him, despite spending nearly his entire life with the teen. 

   Other people obviously noticed these good looks as well cause they flocked to him and spoke in ways that would make them appear more attractive to the listener. All night long women and men from every school that attended the dance jumped at any chance to spend time with the attractive young man. As a consequence Kalim was left alone to navigate the large room himself. Normally he would thrive under these types of conditions but without his friend and, regrettably, servant by his side the eccentric teen felt a bit more vulnerable than he was used to. 

   People still approached Kalim with interest since he didn’t look half bad himself. He never did, Jamil wouldn’t allow that to happen. Since day one he always got Kalim ready for the day and its events no matter what they may be. Kalim always looked amazing when he was done and Jamil would settle with appearing mediocre for the sake of rules and the lack of time he had to pay attention to himself. Kalim felt a pang of guilt as he remembered how obliviously he had stolen away Jamil’s childhood with his own wants and needs. He had ruined his friend's life simply because he didn’t know how to put on his own clothes. That had all been changed though, Kalim thought with reignited joy, because he let Jamil be free. He would learn how to get dressed on his own, bathe on his own, cook his own food, even tie shoes! He had already started to improve, deciding to put on his own clothes and makeup for the party so Jamil could dress up on his own. It wasn’t easy though, Kalim recalled with a sigh.

   The brush and palette of black paint felt awkward in his hands as Kalim attempted to apply a reasonable amount of eyeliner to his face. “Ouch!” The brush slipped again and slid across his eye. Dropping the brush and palette Kalim clutched his irritated eye and hissed as it started to sting. He pulled his hands away from his eye and looked down at the palette which now lay broken on the floor. Tears slipped down his cheek on one side to clear his sight, but it only succeeded on smudging more makeup into the delicate pupil. He stood and approached the mirror slowly. Taking in his appearance, Kalim felt a jolt of frustration. Why wasn’t this easy for him like it was for everyone else? How come he couldn’t get his shirt to button properly or his wrap to lay correctly on his head? Why wasn’t putting on makeup as simple as painting?

   In the end he had to ask for outside help from a fellow student who often helped Jamil when he needed it. It was almost shameful how he couldn’t do anything at all by himself, but at least his former servant had been allowed to give himself the attention he deserved. 

   Kalim sighed and shook his head to clear the thoughts about their recent dynamic change. Deciding he needed something to eat, he approached the buffet table and gazed at his options with excitement. Food from the land of the hot sands was always good and comforting, but occasionally switching things up sparked excitement at the new discovery. He chose a heavily seasoned meat dish, which he assumed came from the Afterglow Savannah. He munched thoughtfully and eyed the room around him once again to take in his busy surroundings, or at least that’s what he told himself. In truth the young heir’s eyes searched for one thing in the crowd and paused when they found what they were looking for. 

   The brunette stood in the middle of a small group laughing at something a pretty red haired girl said. It was unusual to see so much happiness on his face, or it was something that Jamil didn’t show Kalim very often. He felt a strange emotion bubble up within him. It wasn’t something he had never felt before but it was so rare that it was hard to place exactly what the emotion was. Scrunching his brows together he looked down at his food. Suddenly he didn’t feel hungry anymore. Still he placed more food in his mouth. The taste was no longer as flavorful as it was the first time. He frowned but kept eating. It distracted him from that feeling so it was worth it. When he finished his food he threw the plate away and tried to start up conversation with a few of the people around him. None of the usual starters worked however and Kalim found himself alone yet again.

   Only then did he spot Jamil and the girl again. They were dancing together while talking and laughing. His hands on her hips and hers around his neck. They looked so happy together that Kalim almost felt guilty for wishing that it was him Jamil was dancing with instead. Kalim watched as the girl leaned up and whispered something in the brunette's ear. She pulled away giggling and he responded by pulling her close and whispering something back. Suddenly Kalim felt like the walls were closing in on him. Everyone was too close and he felt dizzy.

   He weaved through the crowd trying to find an exit. The room was hot and the windows were fogged with the contrast of the cool night air and sweaty teenager body heat. When he finally found a way out he made a break for it and ran to the hall of dorm mirrors. Stopping only for a fraction of a second Kalim quickly found the Scarabia mirror and stepped through. His body quickly adjusted to the sweltering heat that the Scarabia dorm’s environment consisted of and ran through the dorm as fast as he could. The entrance to his room never looked so inviting before. He pulled himself inside and shut and locked the door behind him. He entered his private bathroom and did the same thing.

   Tears came hot and fast as his body shook with sobs. Kalim collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to calm himself. Whether it was from the running or emotions Kalim felt nauseous. Why was this happening to him? Had he not been good enough? Jamil had promised that he didn’t hate Kalim and never did. He also promised he would never leave him. All those kisses, hugs, and I love you’s. Were they just lies? Of course they were. He thought bitterly. He should have known that this ‘relationship’ they had was just another way for Kalim to guilt trip Jamil into staying. Would he ever learn? Even after all that happened he still hadn’t allowed his former servant the freedom he wanted. If Kalim thought he felt sick before he definitely felt worse now.

   “Kalim? Kalim! Hey Kalim, open the door.” Jamil’s voice filtered into the bathroom and Kalim held his breath. “Kalim I know you’re in there. Please open the door so I can make sure you’re ok.” He didn’t respond. There was silence for a moment before Kalim picked up the faint sounds of footsteps leaving his door. The teen sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He shouldn’t have left so suddenly, then Jamil would still be enjoying himself at the party instead of here worrying about him. The sound of keys in a lock snapped Kalim to attention. He had forgotten that as his assigned caretaker Jamil would have the keys to his room and bathroom. He heard his door swing open and Jamil call out to him again. “Kalim! Kalim? Are you alright? Answer me.” The panicked tone of his voice suggested that he had no idea if Kalim was ok or not. The keys jangled again and Kalim watched as the bathroom door opened.

   “Kalim? What are you doing? What happened to you? Why did you leave without telling me? Do you not feel well? Please tell me you didn’t eat any food that I didn’t taste first?” Jamil knelt down in front of the white haired boy and continued his long list of questions. “No.” Jamil stopped speaking and frowned. “No nothing happened and it’s not the food. I’m fine so you should stop worrying about me and go back to that girl you were hanging out with earlier. It would be a shame if you wasted your night on me.” There was no bitterness in Kalim’s voice, only sadness. “Kalim,” Jamil said quietly, “if this is about that girl I can tell you that we were only dancing to get your attention.” Kalim looked up in surprise. “I know you were making an effort to give me more freedom so I didn’t want to babysit you cause I knew you would get upset that I wasn’t giving myself the freedom I deserved, but the truth is, I wanted to be next to you. I wanted to be at that party with you so when I caught you looking at me with jealousy I thought that maybe I could push you to come to me, but it didn’t work and I’m so sorry.”

   Kalim stared down at the floor and tried to process what Jamil said. He was just dancing with her to make him notice. Cause he wanted Kalim to come to him and be with him. “So,” Kalim looked up again with watery eyes, “I make you happy. You want to be with me, I’m not just forcing-” “NO.” Jamil cut Kalim off with a shout but started again quietly when he saw that he had startled the smaller boy. “No. You aren’t pushing this relationship on me. I want to be here cause I love you Kalim Al Asim. Because you make me happy in a way no one else can.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly against Kalims, who in return smiled. “I’ll always love you. Nothing can change that, and there is no way I would ever leave you. No matter how amazing the other person seems, you are always gonna be better.” Kalim lowered his knees and allowed himself to be brought into a comforting hug. “I love you too” He whispered quietly before burying his face in Jamil’s neck. The brunette smiled fondly at the bundle of Kalim that laid against him. It was a smile that no one but Kalim would ever receive. It was one that was made of more than happiness.

[kuriquinn]

A Tender Harvest [one-shot]

Disclaimer

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994254

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary:  Sakura and Sasuke help a village with their apple harvest, and Sasuke thinks about his relationship with Sakura. The thing about traveling together is it makes it that much easier to fall in love.

Author’s Note: So, I wrote this for the fanzine Seasons like a year or two ago and then completely forgot that it existed? And then I was trying to organize the mess that is my writing files and stumbled upon it again and figured, hey, why not post it? Especially since we’re coming up on Fall again lol. (Also, I don’t want people thinking I’m dead or something. I am working on some stuff for SasuSaku, but the creative juices haven’t been flowing as easily as they used to for this fandom…or, well, any fandom if I’m being honest. Kind of stuck in one of those “I should be writing original stuff” funks that hinders all of my fanfic efforts of late. But I am trying!)

Anyway, so here’s something (sort of) new for your enjoyment!

________________________________________________________________

Sasuke curses at the sudden lancing pain in his hand and yanks his arm out of the foliage to glare at his palm. In the centre, a wasp sticks to his skin by the stinger, its tiny wings and appendages flailing to remove itself. Sasuke gives a harsh flick of his wrist, dislodging the insect and sending it flying off somewhere near the ground.

He doesn’t kill it; if there is a nest nearby that would attract others, and there are enough of the little pests buzzing around the trees as it is.

It is early October, the hot autumn sun unimpaired except for some light haze and few bulbous white clouds in the distance. Crickets chirp, and the scent of wet earth inundates the air, mingling with sweat and the distant smell of a brush fire.

The little village where Sasuke and Sakura have been staying the last few days has an economy based largely around produce. Their apple trees, vineyards and rice fields require rigorous tending, as the yield is what keeps them from starving during winter months. They plant a lot, which means they harvest a lot, and any extra hands are welcome. Originally, Sakura and Sasuke travelled here because there was a need for a healer, but they chose to stay and help.

That’s a common enough pattern these days. Sakura keeps an ear out for places that need extra medical attention, and Sasuke fills his days with odd work. The routine is also an excellent cover for gathering information. People rarely ask them questions, too thankful for Sakura’s medical skills, and even without them, Sasuke’s arm usually discourages comment. There were enough men and women badly wounded in the war that no one needs to ask.

It also lends credence to his and Sakura’s wandering, since many people’s homes were destroyed by the war; first by the Zetsu army, and then marauders in the aftermath.

And we’ve encountered quite a few of those, too. Some friendly, some…not.

While Sakura makes house calls, he helps in whatever field where they need him. There were initially some who looked uncertain of his ability be useful, but he soon showed that his missing arm was barely a handicap.

Today he works in the apple orchard. It’s fairly large, maybe twenty acres, and there are a hundred or so people working alongside him. Clumps of men and women are scattered throughout, picking and packing apples in large baskets. A similar number of people sit just beyond the orchard, slumped or lying on the ground, or gathered around the few wagons with water. A few children squeeze into the tiny bit of shade provided by the wagons, but in this heat there’s barely any point to it.

The only ones happy in this weather are the wasps, Sasuke decides, frowning at his palm to see if the stinger is still attached. It’s not, but the skin is already beginning to puff up from the venom.

He shrugs it off—it’s not his first injury of the day, and he’s endured much worse in his life—and goes back to twisting the gleaming red fruits off their branches. It’s uncomfortable, but he finds he’s more irritated by the sweat drenching his clothing than the minor wound.

The orchard workers have had to work in shifts because of the rising temperature, and because Sakura insists that everyone who works needs to stay properly hydrated.

Sakura…

Sasuke became aware of her proximity about a half an hour ago, obviously finished with her work in the village and now arrived to help. Since then he has been vaguely conscious of her bringing people water or traipsing into the orchard to retrieve anyone who she thinks looks tired. No one bothers to protest the way she’s taken charge, either, and though it could be her status as a respected healer, he somehow doubts that’s the reason.

He remembers what she was like back in Konoha, carrying out important errands for Kakashi and running the hospital.

As always, on the tail of that thought he experiences a half-second of guilt for having taken one of their village’s most important resources on a mission of indeterminate length. The second half-second he buries that feeling, reminding himself it was her choice.

And he has no intention of admitting it out loud, but he can’t imagine how the past few months would have been without her by his side.

Well. He can imagine; he just doesn’t care to.

A bell rings in the distance, and someone shouts, “Break time! Change shifts!”

There are groans all around—relief from the orchard workers, and resignation from the vicinity of the wagons.

Sasuke ignores the call, intending to finish filling his basket before heading in, but even as he reaches for the next branch, there is a cough from down below.

When he glances down, he is unsurprised to find Sakura there, hands on her hips. “That means you too, Sasuke.”

“I’m almost finished.”

“No, you are finished. The foreman told me you started with the morning crew and didn’t switch out with the rest,” she informs him. “Just because you’re about the greatest shinobi alive, doesn’t mean you can’t get heatstroke. And just because I will take care of you if you get a fever and start throwing up everywhere, doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”

Sasuke’s mouth tugs upward a little.

It’s been an interesting dimension to their travels, Sakura speaking to him so frankly. There were a few days when they first set out together that she was still stuttering and wordlessly following his lead in everything; a few bandit encounters and a shouting match later, she found her backbone again.

Now, the only time he sees her flustered or nervous is because he’s caught her gazing at him, or when she realises she’s said something with unintended innuendo. 

“Annoying woman,” he murmurs into the tree, but the words have long since graduated from contempt to affection.

With an affected air of reluctance, he picks up the basket he was filling and raises an eyebrow at her. She grins, and says, “Come on.”

Sasuke trudges after her toward the nearest wagon, sets down his basket, and heads for the water barrels. Children pour it into cups for the workers, some darting among the amassing crowd to pass them out. This is how Sasuke ends up with one of them, and he is quick to put it to his lips.

He takes several slow mouthfuls, to minimize the risk of brain freeze, and takes pleasure in the way the liquid dissolves the dry, gummy feeling in his mouth and throat. The second cup he is offered, he pours over his head, enjoying the sensation of the cold rivulets cutting through his sweat-streaked hair and down his neck.

Sakura lingers nearby, the look on her face conveying an ‘I told you so’, which he patently ignores before joining the line for lunch. The women of the village pass out rice balls and beef skewers; he accepts gratefully, and then he searches out the nearest bit of shade he can.

There’s an old momiji tree several yards away from the larger group of workers, its leaves already turning red and gold, but still providing enough cover from the sun. He heads for that and is unsurprised when Sakura joins him.

As they pass, he notices people shooting them knowing glances or smiling in something like approval. Several young girls whisper conspiratorially. When he was younger, he would have purposely ignored such scrutiny, at times not even realising what the whispers meant. Though he still pretends obliviousness now, he now fully understands the reason for the unspoken interest.

The implication that he and Sakura are more than just travelling companions doesn’t bother him the way it might have before. In fact, he finds odd comfort in the thought. These days, they are on the cusp of something more, something inevitable. They’ll get there eventually, but he finds himself in no great hurry to do so.

Not because he doesn’t care for her—there’s no question that he does.

But too much of his life was spent hurtling from one state to the next, never content with his current existence and always wishing for more. With this—with Sakura—he wants to take his time and experience every moment.

He’s pretty sure Sakura is of the same mind.

As they sit, she sets down the plate she was balancing between her forearms, and two cups. He takes the latter, still more thirsty than hungry, and drinks deep.

Noticing his blink as a bitter taste hits his tongue, Sakura says, “There’s cold tea mixed in. That quenches thirst better than just water alone, and the electrolytes will keep you going.”

“Hm.”

They eat in companionable silence, yet another new quality to their relationship. Part of it is that now Sakura has an appetite that rivals his own and doesn’t like to waste time talking when she could be eating. The rest stems from the indescribably pull that has always existed between them, an ease one only experiences with the most trusted of kindred spirits. Words would mar that somehow, and neither seems willing to do that right away.

It is only when her meal is finished that Sakura reaches into her pack and produces—of course—two bright red apples.

“I may have snuck a few,” she admits with a smile.

Sasuke snorts. “You’re in an apple orchard. I think you could be forgiven.”

She laughs at that and bites into one of the fruits, making a tiny noise of pleasure at the flavour that has Sasuke swallowing uncomfortably. A rivulet of juice drips down her chin, and he finds himself tracking its progression.

Sakura notes his attention before he can look away, and her cheeks darken.

“Sorry!” she says, a little flustered, and puts aside the apple. “You probably want some too, right?”

There is something I want.

The thoughts present themselves unbidden as Sakura digs around in her kit for a knife, and starts to peel the second apple over her empty plate. His cheeks a little warmer than earlier, he looks away and pretends disinterest.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I haven’t even finished my lunch.”

“Then it will be ready when you are,” she quips without stopping.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her carefully dispose of the peel and then cut the apple into eight equal slices. Anyone else would think she was babying him, but he knows this is just her way. She genuinely enjoys doing this. He is, of course, perfectly able to cut up his own fruit, or eat an apple as is. But he doesn’t like apple peels, and never has.

He wonders when exactly Sakura noticed that about him.

She holds out the plate of apple slices to him, beaming, and he remembers a similar scene, many years ago. Of her worried and smiling face, her nervous chatter and her hand holding out a plate of apples. And then the clatter as the plate and fruit itself were knocked to the floor.

This time he accepts, forgetting that he hasn’t finished his lunch, and bites into the first slice. The white flesh is sweeter than the apples he usually eats—he prefers them tart and sour—but it’s perfectly in season and tastes good. 

Sakura’s lips part in surprise, and the motion causes him to nearly miss as he pops the rest of the fruit into his mouth. Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to see; instead, her eyes flick toward his hand, mouth firming.

Damn. I meant to keep that hidden.

Sakura barely waits for his hand to be empty before taking him by the wrist. “You’re hurt!”

The skin of his forearm and hand is crisscrossed with welts and scratches, as well as several wasp stings from when he was reaching into the trees. He’d forgotten about them, but with her attention, the dull hurts flare to life.

“It’s nothing,” he tells her, trying to take his hand back, but she doesn’t relinquish it.

“You always say it’s nothing. I’ve stopped believing you.”

“I guarantee everyone else working in the orchard has the same thing.”

“And I’ll get to them. But you’re here right now, and knowing you, you’re going to throw yourself back into work right away, so it won’t be until this evening when I get my hands on you again…” He raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widen. “That…didn’t come out right…”

He can’t help the slow smirk that pulls at his mouth, and she scowls at him.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, twin spots of rouge flaming even darker across her cheeks but holds his hand closer to her. Green chakra flickers between her fingers, seeping into his muscles and tendons, easing the sharp aching of scraped skin and pulling muscles.

While she heals, her expression relaxes, embarrassment giving way to concentration. He’s noticed that about her: when she uses her medical ninjutsu, everything else appears to fall beyond her awareness.

Still, there’s a tiny smile upon her lips and the fading colour across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that has nothing to do with the autumn swelter. 

When she releases him, she is unabashed and cheerful again. “Better?”

He flexes his fingers, studying the newly healed skin, and nods.

“Thank you.”

Sasuke straightens and reaches for another apple slice, frowning at a mild pinching sensation behind his neck. He hasn’t even rolled his shoulder once to disperse the tension, before Sakura is leaning toward him again, eye filled with concern.

“You’ve strained your neck,” she says, and it sounds accusing, as if she thinks he deliberately kept it from her.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have! I know what that looks like.”

“I haven’t done anything strenuous enough,” he replies, a little indignant because he knows his body’s limits.

“Spending the day with your arm raised overhead and twisting fruit off branches requires different movements than kenjutsu or taijutsu,” she lectures. “If you don’t take care of it now, you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Stop being so stubborn! Lie down and I’ll fix it for you.��

“No.”

“Sasuke…!”

She is growing annoyed, not understanding the reason for his refusal. He is easier with her lately when it comes to touching or being touched. It’s happened often enough—huddled together in the shelter of a tree when it rains, elbows bumping when they crowd into communal meal halls, or checking each other’s wounds.

If they were alone, he would let her ease the knots from his neck and shoulders, but right now they are in front of an entire village of people. Some of whom are viewing the interchange with blatant interest and amusement, others barely concealing the smiles on their faces.

The back of Sasuke’s neck feels warm. He dislikes such attention.

A look creeps across Sakura’s face, the one that Sasuke knows he will have no recourse against, and he has to act before it fully manifests..

“If you don’t lie down right now…” she begins, her voice rising with each syllable.

“Sakura,” he says, his tone soft but firm in its finality.

Her expression freezes at that, and she blinks, coming back to herself. Then, glancing around, she spots what he has been aware of for a while—the audience of workers pretending not to be observing them. 

Her look of surprise is almost comical, and her cheeks flood red once more.

“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t going to— not in front of—” she stammers, all apologies and embarrassment and avoiding eye contact. She jumps to her feet, nearly slopping tea over them both. “I have to get back. They, um, probably need help cleaning up, and I have to go out and check on the other workers, and you…well, you’re right…we can, um, your arm…I’ll just…”

He’s enjoying her fluster more than he should and opens his mouth to speak—to say something smooth in delivery or laden with implication—so that it continues.

But she’s biting her lip as if to physically stop herself from stammering, and her eyes are shining just so, even as they dart about trying to avoid his gaze, and as has become a frequent occurrence, Sasuke discovers every word in his vocabulary suddenly vanishing from his brain.

It takes him several seconds longer than he expects to remember at least one.

“Later?” he suggests.

Sakura stops her fidgeting and meets his gaze. This time he doesn’t bother hiding his small smile from her.

That unnameable something passes between them, bolstered by the rustling leaves and dense heat around them.

Then she smiles back, a gentle and pleased upward curve of her lips, and nods. “Right. Um…later.”

She hurries away after that, tripping a few times before her posture straightens and he watches her transform from his Sakura to the no-nonsense, hyper-confident medic and director.

Sasuke finishes his meal and eases to his feet, ready to head back into the orchard. On his way, he passes one of the workers who is staring Sakura with an air of awe.

“Your girl is something,” he says, impressed.

Sasuke considers Sakura once more, as she directs a group of villagers to go around picking up discarded plates and cups.

In his mind’s eye, he sees a skinny girl with long pink locks, hands on her hips and lecturing him or Naruto or Kakashi for some misbehaviour or other. In a blink it’s replaced with the brave kunoichi, bruised and battered, caring for him when he was ill, or holding him back from throwing himself into danger.

A girl who wouldn’t give up on a boy filled with darkness, even when he shoved away what she offered, be it a plate of apples or her heart.

It’s not the first time he wonders what he did to deserve her.

But he doesn’t reveal any of this to the worker. Instead, he shrugs and says with complete certainty, “She is.”

終わり

________________________________________________________________

I am trying to figure out how to fit this one into the Legacy of Fire series, but it mostly depends on me writing a completely different fic to allow that to happen, so this can exist in the same series as Miso Soup Everyday and You Are Cordially Invited. So for now it’s not part of the series...

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

栗

[hookedonapirate]

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo​!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: Because I’ve received some comments saying that this fic is “inscestuous” EVEN THOUGH I CLEARLY SAID IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS IDEA TO HIT THE BACK BUTTON, I feel like I have to repeat myself and make it louder and clearer for the people in the back: If you're not comfortable with Emma and Killian’s relationship after she is with Liam, or if the idea of Emma being with both brothers at different times makes you squick or is cringy to you, THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU AND YOU ARE NOT INVITED TO READ SO HIT THE BACK BUTTON RIGHT NOW. I repeat, if the storyline makes you squick or is cringy to you, THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU AND YOU ARE NOT INVITED TO READ SO HIT THE BACK BUTTON RIGHT NOW! For everyone else, please enjoy!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​​ for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

 One Week Later…

  “I’m so sorry I'm late,” Ruby apologizes profusely as she scurries across the bar and rounds the counter. “Please don't fire me,” she pleads, her words full of panic. “I promise it won't happen again.”

  Killian arches a brow, thoroughly amused as he watches her haul ass. Is Ruby Red actually worried about losing her job?

  Well, this is a first. 

  Liam looks up from the paperwork in his hands and actually smiles as he waves off her words. “Don’t worry about it, Rubes.” As he turns around and casually heads into his office... he’s fucking whistling.

  What the hell?

  Killian and Ruby exchange bewildered looks.

  This isn't the only time Liam has left them perplexed lately. He's been easy on his staff all week.

  The question is, what the fuck changed? 

  There can only be one explanation—Liam met someone. He knows this because Liam was like this when he met his last girlfriend. Very lenient and cheerful and whistling all the time. But last time, he told Killian about her. So why hasn’t he said anything this time?

  “I think your brother is broken,” Ruby remarks.

  Killian chuckles and tosses the bar cloth over his shoulder. “Or pussy whipped.”

  Ruby furrows her brows. “I thought you said him not getting laid wasn’t the issue?”

  Killian shakes his head. “No, him not getting laid is why he’s in such a good mood.”

  Ruby’s even more perplexed, not understanding how being sex-deprived could possibly put Liam in a good mood. “Huh?”

  Killian smirks. “He met some lass, and she hasn’t put out yet. Which, being the hopeless romantic Liam is, he’s fine with, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hoping to get some.”

  Ruby rolls her eyes and walks away to begin her shift. “Why are men so fucking complicated?”

  He laughs at her words and the thought of Liam being so nice this entire week over some lass he’s smitten with. Killan’s happy for Liam, but to be honest, his brother's happiness makes him kind of bummed. Because it's reminding him of how unhappy he is. He’s been unhappy and kind of pissed all week. Ever since last Friday, when that angel never came back. 

  He was so enchanted by her.

  He keeps asking himself why she never returned to him. He’d thought they’d had a connection, he’d thought they’d shared a moment. He’d thought she’d felt the same attraction for him he’d felt for her. Was she just leading him on? Or did she find some other bloke who gave her more attention than he could that night?

  He wishes he knew.

  Killian suffers through another evening without seeing Emma enter the bar. He keeps eyeing the door, keeps waiting for her to appear and approach him to explain herself, to supply him with some sort of explanation. But she never shows. 

  The next night is no different. Same agony, different day. But this time, his brother isn't here to poke fun at and distract him from the blonde bombshell weighing on his mind.

  The dim lamp light cascades over the living room when Killian trudges through the door after three a.m. Tossing his keys on an end table, he chucks off his jacket and looks down, seeing Liam's boots laying haphazardly on the floor by the door. Which is odd because he's always yelling at Killian for leaving his shoes on the floor instead of storing them in the closet. 

  Killian shakes off the thought and throws his jacket over a chair before heading to the bathroom. He always needs time to wind down after his shift, but tonight, he just wants to sleep and hopefully forget about Emma for a few goddamn hours. But in order for him to do that, there’s something he must do, first. 

  He’s been unbearably hard all week from thinking about her. So as soon as he feels the hot water spraying his skin under the shower head, he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself, his stiff, wet flesh easily slipping through his fist. He can’t help it, though. Emma had stirred something inside him. Something he’s never felt before. 

  He knows this is a bad idea, he knows he shouldn’t get this worked up over someone he’s only spoken to once. But at the moment, he’s too hard and his head’s too foggy with lust, his blood running too hot when he remembers how she’d smiled at him, how she’d bitten her bottom lip, remembers her soft curves and how fantastic her ass looked in those tight jeans and how that sexy, pink lace had clung to her breasts. He groans, needing so desperately to ease the tension before he goes completely mad. 

  Pressing his free hand against the shower wall as the hot stream cascades down his back, he pumps himself harder and faster, grunting as he imagines her pretty lips on his mouth... on his chest... on his stomach... wrapped around his cock. Imagines her humming around him and growing wet from tasting him in her mouth. Imagines what her soft, silky tongue would feel like on him. Imagaines how good her pussy would feel around his cock. Imagines her on top of him, naked and writhing, her skin shimmering in the moonlight as she rode his dick. 

  He can almost hear her moans and short pants in his ear as he imagines taking her breasts in his hands, squeezing firmly while he fucked her good and hard until she was screaming out his name, her walls squeezing him tight as she came all over his cock. 

  His body goes rigid, a rough, drawn-out groan rippling through his throat as Emma's name tumbles from his lips. Seconds later, his hand and stomach are a hot, sticky mess as his hand stills around his pulsing length. His heart is pounding and his breath is ragged as he watches the aftermath of what he’d done disappear into the drain. 

  After he washes the night away from his body (and feels the urge to touch himself again when he lathers his balls and softened cock with soap) he rinses off and steps out of the shower without giving in to more temptation. He dries off with a towel, pulls on a pair of boxers and heads to bed, feeling no shame for what he'd done in the shower. For jerking off to visions of Emma, who’s almost a complete stranger to him. He knows he should feel some kind of guilt or remorse, but right now he can’t find it within himself to feel sorry. He needed that.

  And maybe now, he’ll be able to stop thinking about her long enough to get some shut-eye.

  But it doesn’t bloody work.

  He tosses and turns, still unable to rid her from his mind, and he’s not even sure why. Well, actually he is. She was gorgeous and sexy and playful, and he’d wanted to get to know her. He’d wanted to know everything about her. But apparently, she hadn’t wanted the same from him. 

  He’d waited over an hour for her at the bar the night he met her, and would've waited longer if not for Tina approaching him and chatting his ears off. He'd wanted to either ignore her or tell her he wasn't interested, but he didn't want to be a jackass. And when Emma never showed, he thought about taking Tina up on her offer and bringing her home in an attempt to forget about Emma. To forget about her smile or her eyes or the memorizing light surrounding her or the way she winked at him as she walked away from the bar. 

  But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to Tina to be with her while thinking of another woman. He may be a dashing rapscallion, but he's still a gentleman.

  He’d seen Emma with Mary Margaret and Ruby, and he was half tempted to cash in a favor from Ruby and have her obtain Emma's number, and maybe he should've. But Emma obviously made her choice and he's afraid she would be creeped out by his advances. So he never did.

  Just as Killian is drifting off to sleep, something yanks him awake, but it's not thoughts of her. Rather it's…

  Thump. 

  Thump. 

  Thump.

  Moaning.

  Thump.

  Cursing.

  Thump.

  Grunting.

  Thump.

  What the actual fuck?

  Liam knew Killian had a late shift tonight and yet he decided this was the night to get some action from the mysterious woman he's been seeing? 

  Killian even asked Liam about her, but he completely denied it.

  “Not seeing anyone, my arse,” Killian grumbles, but even though the walls are paper-thin, he's pretty sure he can't be heard over the sounds.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!”

  Bloody hell.

  The walls are so thin, he can hear every pant, every moan, he can hear it every goddamn time the headboard slams against the wall.

  “Fuck!”

  Why now? Why wait until four in the fucking morning? Or have they been at it all night? 

  Killian groans and grabs his headphones from his nightstand. He slips them on and plays some music, turning up the volume. He closes his eyes, trying to erase everything from his mind, but he can actually feel the wall rattling and he’s surprised the bed doesn’t come crashing through the drywall.

  He curses and grabs the pillow next to him, covering his face with it. He wants to pound on the wall and tell them to shut the fuck up, but he knows he deserves it. He's done the same thing, he's brought a lass to his bed while Liam was in his room, forced to listen to every sound. 

  Besides, part of him wants to high-five Liam for pleasuring this woman so well and at such a late hour. He wonders how many hours they've been at it.

  He's kind of proud of Liam, actually. He just hopes this one doesn't cheat on Liam like the last girlfriend did.

  “Bloody… fucking... hell!” Liam groans loudly. 

  With one final hard thud, the noises cease.

  Finally.

  Killian removes the pillow from his face and is soon able to get some sleep, but only for a few hours before he's awake again. 

  Unable to fall back asleep, he wipes the sleep from his eyes and drags himself out of bed.

  Coffee.

  He's not sure if the smell wafting through the apartment is due to lack of sleep or if Liam got up and made a pot. Which would surprise him, considering all the amorous activities he engaged in last night. Killian would think he’d be exhausted after that.

  As he nears the kitchen, he can hear pots and pans clanking around, so he knows he's not imagining the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the flat.

  When he enters the kitchen, his eyes are immediately drawn to the coffee pot on the bar counter, and it almost appears to be glowing. “Thanks for making coffee,” he says appreciatively, opening the cupboard door to grab a mug. Though he's not sure he should be very appreciative, considering Liam's to blame for Killian's lack of sleep.

  He and the little vixen he had in his bed last night.

  “I barely got four hours of sleep, thanks to all the banging and screaming coming from your—” His words are frozen in midair when he turns around and sees the nearly bare ass sticking out from the refrigerator door.

  That's definitely not Liam.

  His girlfriend, rather.

  And she’s dressed in nothing but a pair of pink laced panties and one of Liam’s oversized dress shirts.

  Killian smirks and fills his cup before turning around and leaning against the counter, admiring the view while he sips his coffee. There's a half-naked blonde pillaging his refrigerator, but right now he couldn't give a fuck.

  He’s too busy appreciating the view, because bloody hell, she has a dee-lectable ass.

  Liam did good.

  It’s a good thing she’s already been claimed by his brother because otherwise, she’d be in big trouble. Or, rather, not a good thing. It’s quite a shame, actually.

  “What was that, babe?” The sweetest voice pulls Killian from his thoughts as she rises, carrying eggs and milk in her hands. She sets the items on the counter next to the refrigerator and turns around.

  He lifts his gaze from her pretty ass, and when his eyes meet hers... his jaw drops to the fucking floor, his face paling. He almost drops his coffee mug.

  You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

  He has to blink a few times to make sure it’s actually her. But maybe, just maybe, he’s still sleeping, and this is all just a terrible dream.

  “Killian?”

  Nope. He’s wide awake.

  And the woman standing in his kitchen, wearing nothing but panties and a shirt that falls just past her butt is real. And just like that, Killian’s hopes of being with this woman shatter into a million pieces. 

  “Emma?”

  There’s a shocked expression plastered on her face, but he doubts she’s more surprised than he is right now. He had never suspected the woman making all those noises in his brother’s room to possibly be the same woman he met in the bar last week. The same woman who’s been on the forefront of his mind ever since. The same woman he’d jerked off to thoughts of only a few hours ago.

  “You two know each other?” Liam’s voice sounds through the kitchen when he enters and glances between them, seeing the recognition flickering in their eyes. He walks across the kitchen and pulls a half-naked Emma into his arms, pressing her body against his. He hadn’t even bothered to throw on any clothes either and is only in his boxers. 

  “We met at the bar last week,” Emma answers, because apparently Killian lost his ability to speak. His brain is too occupied with the fact that Liam and Emma are together, their hands all over each other as she’s semi-straddling his thigh.

  Well, fuck.

  He just doesn't understand how this happened. How had his charm not worked on Emma like it had worked on so many women before her? And he was actually genuine with her. He wasn’t charming her just so he could get into her pants. He actually wanted to get to know her. Besides, even if he ended up taking her back to his flat, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to have just one night with her.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, the same night you and I met. He made me a Baby Yodarita.”

  “A Baby Yodarita?” Liam parrots, amusement obvious in his tone.

  “Yeah, I made it up based on Baby Yoda, but Killian was happy to accept the challenge.”

  Liam chuckles and takes her chin in his hand, bringing her lips to his. “Of course he did. He’ll do anything for tips.”

  Killian balls his hand into a fist. He didn’t make her that special drink to get a tip from her. He didn’t even charge her for the damn drink.

  He wants to strangle his brother for saying that and for having his paws all over Emma, but he’s still trying to process what she’d said about meeting him the same night she met Liam. When had she met him? They weren’t there at the same time, so how did they meet? It must have been outside the bar.

  Wait a bloody minute. 

  Killian’s eyes widen when something occurs to him. Was Liam the reason Emma never came back to him that night?

  Emma’s eyes dart between them when something occurs to her too. “So, this is your brother?” she asks Liam. “You said you lived with him.”

  “Aye. And I’m sorry if he startled you. I thought he’d still be sleeping.”

  “It’s fine,” she assures, waving off his apology.

  Wait a damn minute. Liam’s sorry she was startled? Killian was the one kept up by all the noises coming from Liam’s room.

  “And what, I don’t get an apology for being kept awake by all the noises? You do realize I can hear everything through the paper-thin walls, right?”

  Liam and Emma exchange blushing smiles, but neither of them seems apologetic. “Sorry, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other last night,” Liam comments, brushing his nose against hers. She smirks, displaying her total agreement as she caresses his cheek.

  Killian staves off a groan of disapproval. “I gathered that,” he says casually, trying not to sound completely gutted.

  “So you two must’ve met while I went on that wild goose chase David sent me on,” Liam guesses, thankfully changing the subject.

  “Wild goose chase?” Killian inquires, furrowing his brows in confusion. 

  “Aye, it’s a funny story, actually.” Liam chuckles, his eyes glued to Emma as she smiles at him. He finally tears his gaze from her to look at Killian as he wraps his big hands around her little waist. “So before I left to run those errands I told you about, I received a text from David asking me to look after his little sister who was bar-hopping with his wife. So I get there and she’s nowhere to be found. Well, when I returned, I ran into this stunning angel just outside the bar,” he says, squeezing her hip and pulling her closer. “Well, I quickly find out, she’s David’s sister.”

  “Oh,” Killian utters, still shocked by this entire set of circumstances. It made him forget little details, like the fact that Mary Margaret is her sister-in-law and therefore David is her brother.

  “Anyway, she missed her Uber, and after we started talking, I offered her a ride home,” he looks at her again, with googly eyes and a blushing smile as she gazes at him with the same love-struck expression on her face, “and the rest was history.”

  “Wait, so that’s why you left the bar that night? To spy on Emma?” Killian glances at her, a little pissed she’d put up with Liam stalking her. “And you weren’t pissed at him for that?”

  “A little, at first,” she admits shyly, “but more so at my brother for asking him to spy on me in the first place. Besides, look at this face,” she says, cupping Liam’s chin in her hand as she smiles at him. “How could I possibly be mad at a face like this?” He grins and leans in, capturing her lips with his.

  Killian wants to ask her exactly when she left the bar, but he’s afraid of what the answer would be. He stares at Liam, wondering why he never mentioned her. “So, why did you tell me you weren’t seeing anyone when I asked you about it?” Okay, and part of him is hoping to get him in trouble with her.

  But instead of looking pissed, guilt flashes in her eyes. Like she had something to do with it. 

  Liam eyes his brother apologetically. “We didn’t want to tell anyone about us yet. David’s my good mate and we don’t know exactly how he’ll take the news when he finds out about us. He’s very protective of Emma, if you couldn’t already tell. So we haven’t told anyone.”

  Killian scoffs. “Since when haven’t you been able to tell me anything without worrying I wouldn’t keep your secret?”

  “I know, I know. I should’ve just told you. I shouldn’t have lied.” He gazes at Emma again, a little more serious now as he caresses her cheek. “But I could tell right away Emma was something special, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize my chance to be with her.” Emma blushes and smiles as he rests his forehead against hers. “ Very special,” he emphasizes, brushing his thumb over her button lip.

  She presses a palm against his chest. “I could tell you were, too,” she says sweetly, as though they’re having an intimate conversation. As though Killian’s not even in the room, inwardly dying inside. If only Liam knew what this was doing to his brother. 

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Killian assures them, trying to disguise how unnerved he is that she picked Liam over him.

  Liam pulls his head back suddenly, as though he just realized something. “Wait, you mean to tell me you saw Killian first that night?” he asks her.

  “Yeah… why?” she asks dubiously.

  A slow smile crawls over his lips as he looks at Killian. “Because, I think this is the first time someone has actually seen my little brother first and ended up with me, instead of the other way around.”

  Emma cocks a brow, intrigued by this. “Really?”

  Killian doesn’t even bother to correct Liam for calling him little brother. He’s too busy seeing red.

  “Aye. Most women prefer the bad boy type over the nice guy,” he says with a smile. “But not you. If I didn't know you were a keeper then, I sure as hell do now.” He presses the pad of his thumb against her chin and kisses her forehead. 

  Killian thinks he’s going to be sick as he watches them. 

  This is all wrong.

  It was supposed to be him taking Emma home. It was supposed to be him bringing her pleasure over and over again until both of them were sweaty and exhausted and yet still couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was supposed to be him standing in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her half-naked body and kissing her shamelessly as his brother watched. 

  It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around.

  Killian can’t get over the irony of it all. The irony of him jerking off and fantasizing about the same goddamn woman Liam was having sex with right down the hall. 

  It makes him wonder how many times Liam's been in this exact position. How many times had he laid his eyes on a lass, only to come home and find her in his brother’s arms? How many times had Liam touched himself with thoughts of a woman in his head before finding out she was messing around with his brother?

  He’s not sure; all he knows is karma's a bitch.

  “I should probably start breakfast before the milk and eggs get spoiled,” Emma says when she notices the items are still on the counter.

  “I told you I would make breakfast,” Liam says as she saunters over to crack open the egg carton. 

  She smirks at him over her shoulder. “You already gave me a hot breakfast in bed.”

  Liam quirks a brow. “When would I have done that? You were in my arms until you got up to use the bathroom.” 

  Killian takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing as he tries to block out their conversation. They’ve only been together for a week and already act like a fucking married couple.

  “True, but before that, you gave me some delicious sausage.”

  Killian chokes on his coffee and spits it out. Do they not realize he’s still in the room?”

  “What the bloody hell, Killian?” Liam upbraids as he inspects Emma to make sure none of the coffee spilled on her. 

  But Killian only got it on himself. He curtly slams the coffee mug on the counter and walks across the kitchen with clenched teeth, ripping a piece of paper towel from the roll to wipe off the coffee he spit out.

  “Sorry,” Emma says after realizing she probably shouldn’t have made the sausage remark with Liam’s brother in the room.

  You think?

  “Why are you sorry? I’m not,” Liam murmurs against her ear and grabs her hips from behind as she tries to crack some eggs into a bowl. “You can taste my sausage anytime.”

  She looks over at him and smirks. “Hmmm, I like the idea of that. But right now, it’s my turn to make you breakfast.”

  Liam growls and spins her around, picking her up like she weighs nothing, and placing her on the counter. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, gently biting her there, his words muffled against her skin as his hands slide up her thighs and under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. “I can think of something else I’d rather eat.”

  That’s it.

  Killian’s going to vomit. He tosses the paper towel into the trash and storms out of the kitchen, his face probably green from how ill he’s feeling right now. 

  How the bloody hell did this happen? 

  “Killian.”

  The sound of his name coming from her lips causes his jaw to clench. She and Liam seemed so lovesick, Killian’s surprised they were able to tear themselves away from each other for two bloody seconds.

  When he spins around to face her, Emma’s holding his mug in her hands, her eyes flickering with apology. “You forgot this,” she says, offering it to him.

  “Thanks but I can’t stomach anything at the moment,” he grumbles, sounding angrier than he had intended.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, probably so Liam can't hear her. “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like you and I were ever together,” he says bitterly as his eyes drop to the mug she’s holding. “On second thought, I’ll take that.” He grabs the coffee from Emma’s hands and gulps it down, since it’s no longer hot. Emma doesn’t speak as she stares at him, probably unsure of what to say.

  Killian lowers the mug and gives her a hard look before turning around and heading to the bathroom, deciding he needs another shower. After what he’d done in the shower while thinking of Emma and then after what he’d witnessed and heard in the kitchen, he feels filthy all over, almost as if he’s covered in slimy worms. He has to scrub himself down since he can’t scrub away the images that will now be permanently burned in his brain. 

  The images of Liam and the girl Killian wants but knows he can never have.

  Fuck… my… life.

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells​ @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel