#or just wallowed within his home

[dragzo]

oh Red Son no-

[winterarmyy]

And You're Mine

How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega

Summary: In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.

Note: Read the prequel here 《 Must Be Fate 》

Words: 4.7k++

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, self-deprication, body shaming, tiny bit of angst, fluffiness, bucky has a size kink (if you squint), horny-ass bucky has lots of dirty thoughts, vivian being a digusting bitch, protective y/n, even more protective bucky and overall wholesome.

P/S: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! My first omega-verse fic; i have no clue what I'm doing. This is mostly self-indulgent but if you come across this and somehow interested to read it then I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Bucky momentarily shuts his eyes, slightly titled his chin upwards, as if that'll help the boiling blood within his nerves to cool down.

Steve had expected that his best friend would be a little bit annoyed with his decision to trick him into agreeing to this suprise date but he didn't expect him to get this pissed, "Come on now, Buck. I promise you're gonna love this one."

"You said the same shit everytime!" Bucky almost roared in the middle of the crowded carnival, but he held back with a muted growl.

Ever since he lost his left arm on a rescue mission during his time in the Special Forces Unit, the society had deemed him to be "lesser than" despite the alpha title he was born into.

You would've thought that serving your country for about 6 years of your early 20's would be enough of a reason to make up for the so called "lacking", but no.

Apparently, his heroic contributions, his Sargent rank, and his literal blood, sweat and tears meant nothing when he returned home as an amputee.

Even if he came back with the medal of honor, pinned on the fabric of his uniform, right on his prideful chest; they didn't care. A defected alpha is as good as dead, especially in this modern, competitive society where its a lot more difficult to find a mate.

At first Bucky was optimistic, he didn't let them get to him.

He believed that his mate is out there somewhere, waiting for him, as he is for her.

After Stark Technologies offered him to join their research for under the Prosthetics and Orthotics Division, Bucky was lucky to fully revived his left arm in a form a vibranium prosthetic.

Even then, as time passed, the venomous whispers eventually managed to seep through; like any other poison, it is lethal to his mind.

And Bucky stopped trying to be an alpha. His pride was maimed and he let himself wallow in self hatred; letting his insecurity consume him. Eventually quite literally ate his pain away.

They said that he was rubbing salt to his own wound as now he was not just an amputated alpha, he is also a fat one at that.

With his alpha reputation being at its worst, his chances of finding a mate also went down hill.

"This one's gonna be different. Trust me." Steve claimed.

Bucky doesn't know why Steve seemed really convinced. But he wasn't having any of that, he rolled his eyes into a glare, "And how's that?"

Steve's blue eyes sparked as optimism lit on his face, "Well, first of all, she's one of Peggy's closest friends and.."

"Oh great, now you involve your omega into this." Bucky let out an unfiltered scoff before sarcastically exclaimed, "Just fantastic."

Steve growled at the mention of his mate, "Watch it, Bucky." He warned.

Bucky's drilling glare remained the same as Steve's alpha challenged his.

It's not that Bucky is against the idea of Peggy or any other omega helping him in any way. But, Steve had been annoyingly persistent with these set ups and he was sick of it. Perhaps he was a bit petty bringing Peggy into the conversation but he really was just tired of this.

Steve's scowl gradually soften before he continued his reasons, "...And, your date is actually the one requesting for a set up with you."

And that definitely caught Bucky's attention. Steve could see it, especially when Bucky's ears perked up a little and his ever-lasting frown loosen at the tiniest amount.

Steve smirked triumphantly, "Specifically you."

For moment, there was a hesitation on Bucky's side; and there were only the chaotic atmosphere around them. From the screaming of the riders on the roller coater to the giggles of children at the nearby courasell.

Steve really thought he managed to lure Bucky but he was caught by surprise when Bucky replied, "You'd think I'd fall for that crappy excuse of a lie? No. I'm leaving." Bucky turned on his heels.

"I'm not lying." Steve stopped him as he held on his arm, "Hey, you're gonna break her heart."

"Break her heart? How about mine? Just how many more heart breaks do I have to endure? How much more disappointment do I have to go through?"

Bucky gathered his palms into fists as he recalled all the mean, insulting words his past lovers had thrown at him and all those time he wasted on waiting for his dates to show up.

Just before Bucky planning to lash out, a voice interupted his thoughts "Hey, sorry for being late." Peggy came just in time.

Though it was just her; no sign of his so called date around.

An unexpected sting spreads within Bucky's chest. Of course she would stood him up too. Why was he surprised?

Steve pulled his omega into a tight hug, "Hey, baby. Where's y/n?" He asked.

"She's went to the bathroom." Peggy replied before taking a peep towards Bucky, "She got really nervous when she saw you. She might take some time to calm down. She thought its better if you know." Peggy explained.

On one side, Bucky can feel that sliver of hope creeping in. He look down to where he was supposed to see his feet, but unable to see them as now they're blocked by the round of his soft tummy. That's when the dark thoughts clouded his mind.

Was she just feeling nervous or was she regretting her decision?

After a short back and forth explanation, Peggy swept Steve away and had left Bucky on his own. She claimed that the line to the haunted house will double if they wait any longer. But, Bucky knew that they just wanted to leave him and his date alone.

Like every other date before, Bucky was emotions was all over the place; nervous, scared, intrigued, excited but what's different tonight was he also felt angry and annoyed. Which was not a good thing to feel on a date.

So he went to a Whac-A-Mole machine near the spot where he was supposed to wait for his date. He had to hit something. He just had to. He need to let his anger out one way or another.

His gloved hand gripped tightly on the wooden handle as he waited for the next round. Smack after smack, next was harsher than before, he did felt better. But even if the fire was out, the ashes were still burning.

As he was fixated on whacking the shit out of the moles, a particular scent invaded his nostrils. A sweet-smelling scent; something between a mix of cotton candy and butterscotch-caramel nuances.

It should be normal to smell this at a place such as a carnival; but the food stalls were all the way on the other end of the venue and this scent was too strong, too potent, to be that far away from him.

Bucky just had to stop as he relished the pleasant smell; it was truly a sweet and warm gourmand scent that ushered him in and out between nostalgic memories and pure raging lust.

That was when he heard a voice coming from his back, "You must've been really bored waiting that you started without me." She sounded amused when she let out a quiet laugh.

Even before Bucky had the chance to turn around he knew he was fucked; she just had to have the most captivating scent he had ever smell, and the most beautiful-sounded laughter he had ever heard.

What a foul torment to do to an alpha.

When Bucky turned around, he would've missed her if he wasn't paying enough attention on the lower area of his view.

And there she stood, in all her glory of ethereal beauty; small and sweet-looking in an off-shoulder sundress that does nothing but tempt Bucky to leave his mark all over her exposed skin. A simple necklace adorned with a gleaming stone that shines much like her eyes. A shy smile that may have just triggered some dark thoughts in Bucky's mind on corrupting the poor little thing.

"James, right? I'm y/n." she introduced herself but when Bucky's gaze fell on her rosy lips, all he could think was how bad he wanted to bite and suck on them just see if it'll get redder than they already were.

He was too focused entertaining on his inner beast's thoughts that he just stood there in silence, frowning intensely at the sweet little omega in front of him.

Y/N took his unresponsiveness as a sign of anger, so quickly apologised for her tardiness, "Sorry for making you wait so long. When we..i mean I. When I saw you, the nerves started kicking in." At least she tried to, despite stuttering in the between her words.

Fuck, she's such a pretty doll but above all, Bucky just wanted to protect her from the world, provide for her with anything she deserves, treat her like an absolute queen, worship every inch of her being like his own personal goddess and jesus fuck these urges came in stronger than he ever experienced.

With the lights coming from behind, Bucky's face was in the shadows and Y/N misterinterpret his spell-bound, diluted eyes to something else.

Y/N's brows creased in hesitation as she wonders if Bucky was still mad, "Uhh... oh shit" then her eyes widen in a false realization, "Is the something on my face?" She frantically searched for her phone in her bag.

And fuck does that big doe eyes of hers just casually seduce Bucky to think of how she would look when she's taking his cock in her mouth. She'd be so fucking pretty.

She knew she should've used her phone's camera to re-apply her lipstick instead of the cracked mirror at the carnival's bathroom, "The mirror here is f--"

Yes, Bucky would want to breed her so good that she would always be full with his pups.

She's undeniably... "Perfect." Bucky finally spoke after what seemingly feels like forever.

His voice was laced with a hint of territorial grunt that Y/N was not able to catch what he said, "Hmm?" She titled her head to the side, eyes pleading for him to repeat.

It took Bucky all of his mental strength to hold back his alpha urges when he repeats, "You're perfect, doll. Just absolutely perfect." A cheshire smile decorated his handsome face.

Did he meant to say she look perfect? Well, yes but no. He clearly meant she was perfect, her whole being. But Y/N took it as the prior, "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as her cheeks warmed.

Bucky definitely noticed the slight indent of her left dimple. And he wondered how would it felt against his fingers. "Adorable." He thought as his smile grew wider.

Y/N had been waiting for this moment, to finally had a chance to have this man even for a day, especially considering she had the biggest crush on this stranger that helped her a year ago.

One time she might just had met her potential mate was that one time she had to be dosed with shit tons of scent blockers. And that might just be reason why Bucky may not remember her but that's fine. She had one more chance with him tonight.

After that encounter, his scent, his voice, his presence lingered in her mind longer than she anticipated. At least until the moment Peggy showed a photo her alpha that had Bucky in it.

She grew hopeful and had been pestering her to set up somehow set up date with him.

When the time finally comes, she couldn't help but to fell into panic, "Did I introduce myself? I'm y/n" she completely forgot that she already did that.

Bucky let out the most adorable laugh before he reminded her, "You very well did, sugar." His hand move so naturally to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear as she fell into utter embrassement.

"I'm Bucky." He finally introduced himself.

"Bucky?" Y/N outwardly questioned. She thought his name was James, as Peggy said it was.

He hummed softly as he nodded, "The name's James Bucky Barnes." He explained. "Just call me Bucky, yeah sugar?" He duck his head to peek on her redden face, "...cause I can't guarantee my behaviour around you if you keep calling me James." He quirked his eyebrow as his teasing grin spreads.

Oh, he was definitely and unashamedly insinuated something quite unholy there.

Bucky straighten on his back as he offered his arms, "Shall we, then? I would love to know more about you, sweet 'mega."

No matter how infatuated Bucky was with this lovely little omega clinging to his arm; a part of him was also on a defensive mode.

His insecurities gets the best of him when he believe that all of this was just an act, a cruel prank that fate has set up for him or maybe he was just having a ridiculous dream, knowing how pitiful his reality was.

Despite his gentle smile and longing gaze that's lingering on Y/N who was having the best time of her life as her bright eyes sparked at the vibrant and colorful firework show, deep down, he couldn't help to think that sooner or later, all of this will end like it always does.

Another heart break he needed to endure.

But, she was truly an angel. She was everything he could ever hoped for, everything that he could ever long for.

He can't belive that she would spend even a second of her time with a defected, fat, angry looking alpha such as himself.

Maybe this won't be just another heart break.

Maybe this would be the cause for him to actually break beyond repairable.

And she would be the catalyst.

"Thank you for today, Bucky. I truly enjoy my time with you." She confessed with a sincere appreciation and admiration towards him. She shyly broke their eye contact as her finger fiddled with soft fur of the teddy bear that Bucky won for her.

It reminds her of him so much that she insisted that he need to win it for her.

So he did.

His alpha couldn't help to puff with pride. "Omega's happy because of us." But his lips remain shut with a loving smile curved on it.

The dimple on her cheek appeared again and this time he didn't stop his hand from reaching out. Though they were gloved, he still let himself feeling the pleasure of grazing his fingers along her cheek, through her dimple and stopped underneath her chin.

Bucky pulled her closer as he dipped down to her level. Warmth sparked in Y/N's chest, as if the fireworks show magically transferred within her instead, "Buck--"

"Bucky?" A women's voice interupted their moment. "Bucky is that you?" She called again and her familiarity had caught both Y/N and Bucky's attention.

"Oh my god! It is you!" her ecstatic tone might have fool Y/N for a second there.

Maybe she's a close friend of Bucky, but when she saw the colors from his face drained quite drastically, she might need to hold on to that thought.

"Vivian." Bucky's tone changed into something Y/N couldn't put her finger on. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? She wasn't sure but it was not a positive response.

The claimed omega sauntered closer and peered towards Y/N with a glint of judgment in her eyes, "And I see you managed to trick another one, huh?"

That triggered a scarring spot within Bucky.

He could still remember the way she accused him of luring and tricking omega to be with him. Apparently, she couldn't stand being him during intimate time especially during his ruts.

And one particular moment when his rut was at its peak and she couldn't stop herself to turn into an unforgiving monster.

"I can't believe I fell for your charms. Then now I need to deal with this." Vivian looked away, unable to look at her boyfriend, hot and bothered, bare and in pain.

Bucky pants and groan as Vivian continued to insult him from the corner of him room, "Look at you, Bucky! You look fucking pathetic!" She yelled as she angrily pointed her hands towards him.

He turn to his side facing her, and curled his body to manage the raging pain of wanting to stick his cock into something. Vivian was to busy ranting that she couldn't see the fire in Bucky's grilling frown.

"You can't expect me to touch you now especially with your big fucking belly spilling out like that. God, you're sweating like damn dog and you fucking reek!" Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled in disgust before she continued, "And don't get me started with that wretched arm of yours."

That's it. Bucky was not having any of it anymore. He was seconds away from slamming Vivian's face to the wall as his primal alpha needs to aggress were also heighten in his rut.

"Then, get the fuck out of my house, you useless annoying bitch." Bucky growled through his pain.

Vivian was not able to catch a breath as her mouth hang open in shock. Bucky never been that harsh with her but honestly it was about time he did.

"Don't even think of coming back." He warned as she closed the doors behind her.

Unknowingly leaving Bucky's heart bruised and battered.

That was almost a year ago. Bucky gave her the benefit of a doubt as he thought maybe she would change once she find her the love life but apparently she is as vicious as ever.

The tall blonde continue to linger as she asked, "Did you know? About that arm of his?"

Y/N didn't know what she was talking about but she didn't want to entertain this woman, especially when Bucky was clearly uncomfortable with her presence.

Though her silence only lead Vivian to speculate, "Aww, you poor thing, you don't know, do you?" Her mockery was getting worst, "It's fake, honey. He lost his arm many years ago." She flicked Bucky's left arm with long bird-like nails; or claws, that seemed more accurate.

Bucky caught the way Y/N's eyes briefly glanced at his covered arms then his gloved hand. What was she thinking then? Does she think that he was defected? That he is a damaged goods?

He couldn't help to let his mind wonder to the worst case scenarios and to make the unpleasant situation even worse Vivian slightly tugged Bucky's jacket to the side.

Revealing his round and plushy belly, "And fuck did you get bigger?" She sneered as the ruthless insult continue to spill.

"Shut up." Y/N's broken silence caught them off guard.

Vivian scoffed, "What?"

Y/N piercing gaze landed on Vivian's hand still tugging Bucky's jacket. She harshly grabbed her on the wrist, didn't care whether if her nails would dug into the woman's skin.

"I said..." The air felt heavier, only for Y/N to shove more force to it when her voice dropped a few octaves down, "Shut the fuck up before I tear your throat apart."

How dare she insult her alpha, especially when Y/N was right there with him.

"Are sure you want to do that?" Vivian's alpha suddenly stepped in. Even though he clearly was not interested in the matter a few seconds ago.

Y/N took a step forward, "Try me." She dared him.

"I might as well fuck your balls up while I'm at that, huh? Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about subduing your insolent omega."

Oh, she meant what she said; its especially clear when the growling started to peak a presence through her voice.

The taller was bright red, with embrassment and anger, "You're talking to an alpha. Know your place 'mega!" He forced his alpha command on her.

She fought back as much as she could but of course she was forced to submit. When the alpha tried to reach for her, that's when Bucky blocked his way.

Bucky's demeanour completely changed into something different. His meek presence vanished and now turned into a pure and primal rage. Good thing was he contained it quite well so he won't cause a scene but his gaze degrades the one before him.

Though the alpha was slightly taller but Bucky was certainly bigger and being a veteran, of course he'd be stronger. One wrong move, he might get a chance to meet the grim reaper sooner than he'd expect.

It felt as if Bucky was towering over the alpha, as he challenged him to come a step further, "Touch her and you're dead." Bucky let out a deep, murderous growl as he threatened.

The alpha was about to protest but was forced into a frozen state as he look into Bucky's sapphire eyes; there was something ominous about it, something dark and dangerous.

Being overwhelmed by Bucky's strong scent of rage, Vivian quickly pulled her alpha away, "Let's just go... They're not worth it." She coaxed, and the alpha agreed.

Before they leave, she managed to slip a last comment, as she wishes luck to Bucky, "Goodluck keeping this one." She thought she was being sleek when she whispered so quietly but Y/N heard that just fine.

When Y/N snapped out of the alpha command, she grunted, "I'm gonna kill her." What a menancing look in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.

Bucky only softened to her threatening aggressions, "No, you're not " he rubbed his hand to the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down.

Which failed miserably when she replied, "Watch me." She spun around, eyes searching in the crowd, trying to spot a glimpse of the rude couple.

"Hey hey, omega." Bucky quickly catch her before she could walk further, pulling her back to his chest, both of his arms securing her waist, "Calm down. Shhh shhh." Bucky let out a calming rumble from within his chest, coaxing her softly,  "Killing is not necessary, sugar."

Despite her tensed body were starting to relax, her mind certainly wasn't, "And why the hell not?" Her small hands gripped onto the fabric of Bucky's jacket on his arms.

"No one deserved to be treated like that." She whispered softly as Bucky continued to kiss the top of her head, mumbling quiet 'I know, doll. I know' 

"You don't deserve to be treated like that, Bucky." Her voice shivered despite her efforts to conceal them.

Bucky loosen his grip and turned her to face him. His loving gaze took in every single one of Y/N's sweet features; from her teary eyes to her redden nose and pouty lips.

He wanted to kiss each of them, in hopes of making her feel better. But he doesn't want to take any chances as he had already made a bold move to hug her from behind and kiss her head prior.

Bucky looked down at his dark midnight glove, and Y/N took his lead. Before she could say anything, Bucky started pulling each one off. Revealing his calloused right hand and a shiny black and gold prosthetic on the other.

He can't see her reaction to his vibranium arm, but he imagined the worst. He took in a shaky breath before he spoke, "Alpha is supposed to be perfect. They supposed to be capable. So that they can provide and protect their omega."

He paused as Y/N wrapped took both of his hand in hers but then continued regardless, "And I am far from being perfect or ideal. I lost a limb and gained pounds in return. I can't hide that fact."

"But I swear to god y/n, I never intent on tricking you or using you, in any way." In the end, Vivian's gaslighting effect of Bucky was still stronger as ever.

Why couldn't he see that there was nothing less about him.

"It's pretty." Y/N titled his left hand back and forth, watching the glow on the gold lines reflect the lights of the carnival; each move create random sparkling dots on its smooth surface, it looks like stars.

Bucky didn't understand at first until she looked up at him, with eyes gleaming with mixture of intrigued and infatuation, "It's so pretty, and Bucky..." She reached her hand to his face, gently rubbing her thumb on his stubble jaw, "You're beautiful. All of you." She confessed.

She carefully pulled her hand away from his cheek, and grabbed his left hand with both of hers, allowing it draw near to her lips before she placed a loving kiss on it, "This arm," Then her hands caressed the softness of his tummy, "this body," before they stopped at his chest where his beating heart resides, "this heart. Every single part of you is beyond beauty itself."

Bucky frowned as he find it hard to believe and Y/N knew that, "I mean it, Bucky."

A short chuckle left her lips as a thought run through her mind, "God, you'd be running scared, if you know half of the things I would love to do to you."

Bucky bit back a smile as he let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

Y/N continued as she held onto his hands, "But, above all Bucky, you are the sweetest man I've met." There was nothing more sincere than her words, "Yeah I know we just met and what not, but if I can see that just in one night, imagine if I get to know more of you tomorrow or the next day and next week?"

Her grip on him grew stronger as she reminded him, "Don't let an impudent omega or anyone even, convice you otherwise."

"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.

And Bucky could not control the overwhelming joy within his thundering chest as it bursts with endless fluttering butterflies. He had never felt such comfort, such reassurance in his life, especially after returning home from the army.

Flickers igniting as he leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched, tentively for the first time. The smell of her cotton candy and caramel, so sweet and so soft, it was almost dizzying, but he was more than thrilled to let it consume him. 

Y/N briefly parted her lips to let him in and leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the delicious sensation of his lips, his tongue on hers. Bucky wanted nothing more than devour her, memorizing of every single moan that fell into his mouth.

It felt so right; it was exactly was his soul had been yearning for and more.

Breaking the kiss was the reminder to both of them they need air to breath, and Bucky rested his forehead on hers as he took in everything that just happened.

While Y/N found herself completely drunk to the feeling of love within her body and soul, she whispered dearly as she scatters most tender kisses all over Bucky's face, "You're so pretty. So perfect. So... mine."

And that caught Bucky in another spiral of confusion; she could see it in face especially with his sapphire eyes being as wide as they were.

She giggled amusingly before she proposed, "Will you be mine, James Bucky Barnes?"

God, he was supposed to be the alpha here. But what can he say, his omega is quite a special one.

He breathed a relief sigh, "Yes." Leaned in for a quick taste of her lips before asking his a question of his own, "And you're mine?"

Her nose crunched as she booped its tip on his, "Always." She replied. Bucky could feel her smile against his lips and so does she.

Unbeknownst to the happy couple, a few feet away from them was Peggy who was busy clicking her camera away, trying to get the best shot she could out of the couple while Steve was trying hard to hold back his proud sniffles as he stood guard near his omega.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Sooooooo what you think? Feel free to give feedback I love reading your thoughts!

[obaex]

the blind date - rafe cameron

summary: your friends set you and rafe up on a blind date, but it doesn't go quite as you'd expected.

words: 1.7k

a/n: based on this request ♡♡ the way this has me giggling and kicking my feet in the air - ahhhh!

“Alright lemme make sure I have this straight: unlimited access to your jet skis for the rest of the summer, your season tickets to the first two Panthers home games, and two cases of whatever beer I want?” Rafe confirmed, looking over to the driver’s seat at his friend Dylan who huffed in reply and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yes, dude, that’s what we agreed on. Christ, it’s a blind date, not a death sentence. I swear to God if Maddie didn’t put me up to this, I would’ve left your ass to wallow at home alone.”

“I’m doing you a favor” Rafe replied, “It’s the least you could do.”

“I’m telling you she’s hot, you know you might actually be into her, did you even consider that?”

Rafe looked at him completely perplexed. “What makes you think I’m even looking for a girl? I do just fine as it is, thank you very much, plus you and I have very different tastes.” A pause. “Can I please see her insta?”

“We’ve been over this. No. Maddie said it would defeat the purpose of the ‘blind’ part of a blind date.”

“So fucking stupid” Rafe said as he shook his head and looked out the passenger side window.

You had gotten to the restaurant early; your best friend Maddie wanted to make sure every little thing was perfect and she was practically bubbling over with excited energy at the prospect of your blind date.

“This is going to be amazing, I just know it!!!” she said enthusiastically. “He is so your type, I will be at your wedding, babes, I swear it! Ahhh!” She had pulled you into the bathroom and was fluffing up your hair, touching up your lip gloss and tugging at your dress.

“So happy you went with this one, like yes you will thank me later, you look so damn hot.”

For all her flustered energy, you appreciated her hype and as you looked in the mirror you kinda had to agree with her. She had helped with your hair and makeup and the result was truly stunning; you had just the right amount of makeup on to make your natural beauty pop. Your dress was a little more revealing than you were used to, but it did make you feel confident and who knows, the way she talked about this guy, maybe it would all work out?

“Okay, okay, enough fussing, I’m already nervous enough. Can we please get a drink? I need a drink” you said, moving to walk out of the bathroom as she checked her own appearance in the mirror one last time before following you.

“Yes, good idea, you go loosen up, I’m going to make sure they got us that table by the window.”

You sidled up to the bar and leaned your arms on it, happy to have a moment’s reprieve from Maddie’s frenetic energy as you looked around in an attempt to distract yourself. The restaurant was really cute, coastal and modern and there was a sizable crowd between the bar and dining area. The steady thump of tropical house music played softly in the background which calmed your nerves and lifted your mood.

Within moments the bartender spotted you and made his way over. He was just about to greet you when he glanced over your shoulder. “Rafe! What’s up!” he said enthusiastically. “So sorry m’am, just one moment” he apologized as he clapped hands with the tall stranger that had walked up beside you. “What can I get you, bro?”

Rafe was smiling at the bartender and glanced at you briefly when he realized you’d been snubbed. It was a quick glance but he did a double take before he could control himself. You were… simply perfect. Your face held an expression of amusement and surprise with a clear smile that rested on perfectly glossed lips. You had an effortless air about you like you woke up every morning looking that good and then immediately every part of him wanted to know what you’d really look like in the morning… in his bed… at Tanneyhill… the sun reaching through the blinds…

What the fuck is the matter with me? he thought suddenly. And then, Fuck. Was I staring?

The bartender was looking at him expectantly with an eyebrow raised. He asked me something. Drink. A drink. What do I want to drink?

“Yeah man, I’ll have a bourbon, neat, and uh, whatever she wants” he replied, nodding his head towards you.

You smirked at him before glancing at the bartender, “Spicy margarita please, and since he’s paying, I’ll take it with Patrón.”

“Oof” Rafe said, grabbing his chest with his hand like you’d delivered a physical blow to him, “Way to take advantage.”

You laughed and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe in coincidences, and it just so happens I need some liquid courage. If a handsome stranger is offering, I’m taking top shelf.”

Rafe pursed his lips and nodded, trying to tamp down the feeling in his heart that you'd called him handsome. He glanced back towards the door to see if he could see Dylan and couldn’t find him. Good he thought, allowing himself to feel guilty for half a second until he refocused on the sight of you in front of him.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, liquid courage?” he asked.

“I’m meeting a date here actually” you said, shaking your head, your blushed cheeks turning slightly rosier. “It’s a whole thing…” you trailed off, waving your hand dismissively.

Rafe couldn’t reason with himself why he felt so angry that you were here for someone else. Thankfully the drinks arrived which gave him a moment to process as he watched you take a deep sip of your drink.

‘What asshole doesn’t pick a girl up and take her on the date himself?’ he thought. Well, he thought he thought before he realized he’d said it out loud as you nearly choked on your drink in laughter.

You shook your head again, smiling and laughing “It’s not like that, it’s –”

“—Nah, I’m sorry, it’s not my business, I shouldn’t have said that” he interrupted, mortified that he'd let that slip.

“You’re fine” you reassured him. “It was sweet. It’s nice to know there are still decent men out there willing to keep things chivalrous.”

I would’ve picked you up he thought. On time. Walked to your front door. Flowers in hand.

His head was spinning. What the fuck is going on with me. He looked down at his drink and then drank it in one swig. When he set the glass down, he caught your look of amusement as he coughed.

“You good?” you asked, giggling.

He grimaced, “I will be” he said, holding up his empty to signal the bartender for another.

“Is my company that bad?” you joked.

His eyes darted to yours, “Quite the opposite, sweetheart” he said in a low voice that you felt from your beating heart to your fingertips to your belly and shaky knees. Shit you thought as you registered the effect this man had on you.

You blushed and met his warm gaze, realizing for the first time how deeply blue his eyes were, like sapphires. The two of you stood there, an arms-length away and it was like time stood still. You could feel your pulse in your throat, feel your body tingling like it was physically reacting to his proximity. Was he stepping closer to you or were you imagining it? His eyes left yours for only an instant to look at your lips and in that moment he had you hook line and sinker.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed on the bar in front of you and you jumped. He took an imperceptible step back, clearing his throat.

“S-sorry” you mumbled, quickly swiping open a text from Maddie: ‘Where r u?!!!!”

Shit.

“I-I’ve got to…” you waved your phone by way of excuse and nodded your head towards the tables, literally unable to string a sentence together at this point.

“Yeah, no problem” Rafe said, as casually as he could muster as you moved to leave. “Try to have a good time. And, hey” he said, capturing your attention one more time “Tell this guy he better give you a ride next time, okay? None of this high school ‘I’ll meet you there’ shit, okay?”

You laughed at your little inside joke and met his gaze one more time before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Rafe’s next drink arrived and he slammed it back instantly before settling the tab, leaving a hefty cash tip and making his way towards the dining room.

Dylan fucking owes me he thought through gritted teeth, grimacing all the way through the crowded room, replaying your smile, the way you'd looked at him through thick eyelashes, even the way you’d smelled: like vanilla and coconut.

He was clenching and unclenching his fists as he searched the crowd, willing this godawful date to be over before it had even started. Finally he caught a glimpse of Maddie’s bright hair and Dylan’s frame at a table by the window; he moved to shift around several people when his eyes met yours, seated next to Maddie, across from an empty seat.

“Oh my god” you said, covering your mouth with your hand, stifling a fit of laughter and joy when you caught his eye.

He began to laugh too, the tension in his body immediately dissipating as he rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away the goofy grin he felt there as he took his seat.

“What is going on, do you two know each other, what am I missing?” Maddie demanded.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, Mads” you said, giggling as your eyes danced and twinkled at Rafe.

She narrowed her eyes as they darted between the two of you. “Okaayyyyy, well YN, this is Rafe!”

“So, so nice to meet you” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though you were thrilled to actually know his name.

“The pleasure is truly mine, sweetheart” he played back, a knowing smile resting on his lips that had you bursting at the seams as you two ogled each other.

Maddie and Dylan looked at you both like you were crazy as you just stared and giggled at one another before they gave up and settled back into their own conversation and you and Rafe picked up your menus.

“Tomorrow at 7:00” Rafe said just quietly enough for you to hear him as he pretended to eye the menu.

“What?” you whispered in reply.

“Be ready tomorrow at 7:00. I’m taking you out. And I’ll be picking you up this time” he said as he shot you a smirk over his menu.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer

[elioslover]

Baby Fever- Harry blurb in honour of him becoming an uncle!

More Dadrry / Other Writing

Harry just got back from spending the day meeting his new, teeny tiny niece, and he'd hardly been able to look away- absolutely besotted by her wide and curious eyes, soft hair, and total newness to the world. His heart feels so full it could burst and all he wants is to sprinkle this overwhelming love with those most important to him.

Even on the drive home and for a good hour after arriving home, Harry can't shake the stirring of paternal possibility- especially in the presence of his wife, so lovingly and endearingly sharing supper with him. He's so infatuated with the wholesomeness swelling within, fascinated with these sudden fantasies of bringing home his own baby- a teeny, breathing product of a love so strong- being blessed by the gift of his wife, whom herself, was enough of a gift as it was.

She notices Harry's struggle to focus long before he- chalking it up to the overwhelming excitement of the day, certain that her husband was just as giddy at the arrival of his niece as she always predicted he would be. It was hard enough walking past a cute toddler without his desire to stop and coo taking over.

When asked about it, Harry sighs out contently and simply reassures, "'M just thinkin'..."

Oh, but this type of thinking isn't so easy to shake and follows Harry all the way to bed, burying itself beneath the covers beside him, tugging at his heartstrings with sweet scenarios where he cradles a sleepy infant to his chest, soothed by the softest of snores, watching his wife giggle along to incoherent baby babbles, celebrating milestones, watching them grow, and growing alongside.

Even as the next three days drone on, Harry feels like the universe had 100% overheard his secret daydreams- taunting him with anything and everything resembling children- every where he goes, every thing he does is sidelined by the aching feeling of starting a family.

After what must have been the fourth stroller rolls past, Harry cuts his run short. Realisation that this stirring within will not be going anywhere, solidifying into the desire to say it out loud, to announce and welcome this want- need- to start the next chapter of his life.

He practically bounds through the front door, sneakers squeaking along the hardwood as he urgently calls out in search of his wife., though by the time she sings back a greeting and says "In the nook" Harry has already found her- the same place she usually hides- a book balanced between her fingers, wedding ring flickering from the rays of sunset, luring him closer until he's standing right before her.

Harry drops to his knees before she has the chance to give him a proper greeting, his palms splaying out atop her thighs, and though his eyes are aflame with desperation, a hopeful smile continues to creep up and spread along his lips until his cute dimples are on full display.

Discarding her book to the side, his wife's hands find a home in his curls, gently kneading stray tufts of his silky curls, and Harry's head dips on instinct, forehead resting against her exposed leg, pressing his cheek into her fleshy skin- this only evokes a soft chuckle that slips past her lip as she smiles at him with enamoured curiosity, "What's gotten into you, huh?"

He mumbles against her skin, breath tickling and pricking goosebumps along her thighs, his hand reaching on and wrapping loosely around her calf- thumb stroking circles into her skin.

"Speak up, sweet boy," she coaxes and even after he projects, his words are still muttered into incoherence, her legs bouncing along with her chuckling chest, waiting for him to find the words.

Harry wallows in her patience for as long as it takes to just build up the confidence to match his certainty, unable to soothe all of his nerves, even by the time the rest of him has conjured up enough bravery, his statement is so soft, so vulnerable,

"Wanna have a baby." He still can't muster the courage to look her in the eye.

"Is that so?" The giddiness coursing through her is present in her tone, hiccupping her sentence, hands continuing to play with his curls, "You wanna be a daddy?"

His face feels flush with bashful excitement at the mere sound of 'you' and 'dad' in the same sentence. Harry enthusiastically nods once more against the expanse of her thigh before his face finally tilts back up to meet her fond gaze, she's beaming down at him with newfound hopefulness.

"I wanna be a dad," he finally admits aloud, and it feels so fucking good to say it, "really really wanna have a baby with you."

The sweetest smile creeps well past his wife's lips and crinkles the corner of her eyes as they twinkle back at his own with wonderment. Her nails massage along the nape of his neck before her palm gently cradles his blushy cheek and she hums contently, "Well, that's the best idea you've ever had."

[chococolte]

☼ — osculatus solem

my take on sagau/cult au zhongli, reactions to first meeting you/as a worshiper + reactions to being your lover

word count. 4.2k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationship, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. im sorry if tense is weird im kinda dumb lol

Zhongli has waited for you for six-thousand years.

It wasn’t until he was faced with you that he realized how cruel the wait was. Six-thousand years of patiently waiting had never felt like grueling punishment until he realized what he was deprived of. Like a man starved, he had grown used to the numbness of constant hunger— he found it almost comforting, as he had lived his entire life malnourished. He lived unaware of what it was like to have a full stomach.

Your presence is primeval. It emanates, and it overwhelms all else. When Zhongli looked into your eyes for the first time, he finally felt complete. He was finally where he was meant to be. Finally with who he was meant to be with.

The scripture had described you in detail, but there were only so many words, so many different ways to speak of you. None of them could compare to how you looked in person, standing in front of him.

Your eyes hold all the knowledge in the world. Constellations and stars shine within them, a myriad of stellar tapestries formed within the small reflective surface of your eyes. Past, present, and future dance inside, moving according to your design. You see all. You are all. Everything that is, and everything that will be, is you. Every burgeoning bud, blooming flower, roaring wave, and colossal beast; you are every death, there in every mournful cry and scornful glare; you are every mortal life and every god.

You are the sun that brings warmth to Teyvat, the moon that caresses its tides, and Zhongli wants nothing more than to worship you for it.

Zhongli was not always your devout worshiper. He was once, like all of his temperament, rebellious and spiteful. He refused to believe that all of his victories in battle had simply been part of your design. Just a single thread in your grand tapestry.

His triumphs were his, and his alone. He won by his own virtue, will, and vigor. He won by his own hand, spear, and stone. You did not aid him in his wars. You did not save anyone worth saving. Zhongli watched his allies die, slip through his fingers like grains of sand— and he would never thank you for what he endured. He promised himself that if ever faced with you and your faux benevolence, he would demand answers from you. You owed him that much. A recompense for all the hardship and injury he had sustained.

Zhongli, in his youthful hubris, did not care who heard his blasphemy, and whether they thought it distasteful or not. He was the god of war, and would allow no being to silence his voice. Zhongli bathed in his rage, wallowed in it; he would not allow himself to believe what others so easily indulged in. Ignorance led way to arrogance.

Guizhong had always been of the opinion that you were a kind, gentle god. She argued that your light could not be quantified, nor labeled; just because you did not act in ways he could see, did not mean you did not act at all. You breathed life into the abandoned, the lost— you embraced those without a home, without purpose. You forgave and you pardoned, and you rained down fury on those wicked and vile.

Zhongli had long grown used to her arguments. Every victory of theirs, despite the tight grip on his weapon and the ichor on his blade, was attributed to you— your grace, your blessings. By your grace you allowed them one more day, by your blessings you allowed them one more triumph. Zhongli thought her pitiful; you had done nothing to deserve her kindness. She worshiped you, and what had you given her in response to her devotion?

Guizhong died in his hands, and he had nothing to show for it. Helplessness ate it's way at him, through his flesh and bone. What was left was nothing more than a husk, a parody of a god. What was once anger at authority transformed into righteous anger at the one who made him. You allowed him his victories, to parade around with pride and vanity; you gave him your blessings, benediction and approval, and yet you let the one who meant the most to him die. The one who worshiped you above all else.

Why did he live over her? He did not appreciate you. He did not worship you. He made no offerings, nor did he pray. He did not believe in your salvation, neither did he ordain your will. But he was the one left behind with the sorrow and the guilt, and Guizhong was the one turned to dust. Why was he chosen?

Zhongli knew that asking questions was meaningless. You would not deign to answer. Maybe it was to be expected. Why would an Almighty God answer to a lower being demanding answers far beyond their comprehension? Why should you have to explain yourself, when you saw all? Zhongli was merely the god of Geo. You could take even that from him.

You were the God of All. The Primordial One. No being had authority over you; not even one of the Seven.

It was only in the light of Guizhong's death that Zhongli had finally begun to understand her perspective. He might’ve been alone, but that did not make you cruel. It did not mean you were unable to be kind, tender and loving. You loved as much as you breathed— the world was showered in your love for it, in the wind that caressed its people and the sea that fed them. Your love was in its bountiful harvests and its gentle rain.

You loved just as any other, but Zhongli had long refused to see it.

He started small. Gestures of devotion hidden underneath many layers of misty glass, only clear to those who looked hard enough. Zhongli had postured to those still with him that he no longer minded if they worshiped you in his presence. If he was feeling particularly daring, he would join in and mutter a small word or two of thanks. Perhaps he thought of it as a way to make up to Guizhong after so many years of his disapproval.

Though he may have found it unbearable at the beginning, he soon began to pray to you in times of need. He looked for you when he found himself in need of counsel, forgoing the people around him. He made offerings in your name when there was a drought or a shortage, praying for your guidance. Even if he did not initially believe that you would truly respond, the comfort it brought outweighed the logistics. If there was no one else he could turn to, he still had you— and you would never forsake him.

Zhongli started to find your answers in the strangest of places. An arrangement of flowers in some botanical garden of some odd scion, the conversation of two orphan boys that shed a new perspective; a tale that seemed almost catered to him told by a storyteller at a tea house. Perhaps he was imagining things— he surely would have thought so a millennium earlier. But were they truly coincidences, if they only happened after he had prayed and offered at his altar for you?

If it was the Zhongli of old, he would have said yes. But the Zhongli of new knew better now: it was you, speaking to him through indirect means. You answered his prayers and accepted his offerings. You forgave him for what he had done and the things he had said in the past.

Liyue was modeled after what Zhongli believed you favored the most. Its jagged cliffs, jeweled karsts, cuihua forests, and vibrant plant life; sculpted and molded to fit your tastes. He sometimes daydreams of showing you his life’s work— would you like it? Would you tell him he’s done a good job, that he had done enough to please you? If you found it distasteful, would you tell him why? Even if it meant tearing the land asunder and usurping the earth that tethers it to its place in the sea, Zhongli would change whatever it is you dislike immediately.

Even if the problem was himself. He would happily bow his head, whisper one last plead for forgiveness, and take his own life. If it was your will, there is nothing he wouldn't do.

When Zhongli meets the Traveler for the first time, he is frozen in place. His heart drops to his stomach as he sees the gleam of your existence in their eyes. It's you. You're here, in front of him— he wants to kneel and worship you the way he's always wanted, but…

Why is it them, and not him?

Zhongli knows he shouldn’t be jealous. It’s a blessing in the first place to meet you like this. It's a blessing to know that you're real. But he can’t stop himself from lying awake at night, thinking of what it would be like if he was the eyes through which you experienced this world.

It’s an ugly feeling. A twisted, nasty feeling. It leaves him feeling bitter in the morning and sick whenever he sees the Traveler walking through Liyue’s streets. He assists them on their quest, because you are there with them— watching him through their eyes. He hopes to leave a good impression, to assure you that there is no problem with him; perhaps, that is why you did not choose him? Because he was faulty in some form?

Hours upon hours of self-reflection spent in dark, locked rooms. Zhongli stays there, looking in mirrors, searching for reasons why. He looks at his mortal form and wonders: is this why? Did you want him to serve you as the Geo Archon for longer? Why not him?

Was he not enough? Was Liyue not enough? You are never wrong, never incorrect— the problem lies with him. But no matter how long he looks, he can't find the reason. He's better in every way. Better in his devotion for you, better in his worship— he would kneel until his knees turned raw and skin gave way to bone, he would pray and sing your praises until his throat bled. He built Liyue with earth and stone, and cracked the land until it was worthy enough of a formation, molding it with his hands to please you. He had changed himself until he was deserving of your forgiveness, until he was worthy enough to worship you.

The voice in the back of his head tells him it was because he once hated you. Once, when he was a fool and a heathen, he spat on your good name, derided it with disgust. Zhongli thought you forgave him for the sins of his past. He thought you still loved him despite it. He thought he had purified himself long ago, but perhaps he still had some rot left to root out. What part of him wasn’t perfect? What part of him wasn’t enough for you?

Zhongli knows he’s only being ungrateful. You’ve done enough for him. Who is he to demand more?

REVERENTIA ; first meeting/as a worshiper

Zhongli did not know what to do with himself when his eyes laid on your figure for the first time.

You were beautiful. Resplendent and illustrious. When you spoke, crying out so timorously, he shuddered involuntarily. He clasped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to steady his breathing, but your voice was infectious. His heart felt heavy in his chest as you looked at him with wide eyes.

Nothing could compare to your stare, to the life that swirled within your eyes.

Zhongli knelt, then, his head hitting the floor. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and straight, keeping his posture as poised as possible.

His first words to you: "Welcome home."

Whether your reaction was volatile or not, Zhongli is at your beck and call. He waits on you hand and foot, staying by your side and keeping close. He acts as your shadow, following your orders, even simple commands, as if the result of his failure will be death. Zhongli is aware that your current form is weaker, mortal in nature; but when you ascend once more, he wants to be known as the one who never doubted you, never thought of you as lesser because of your current circumstances.

Zhongli, despite his worship of propriety, is still prone to decadence. His hands as he helps you dress linger for far longer than they should, brushing against the soft skin of your shoulders. The tips of his gloves burn from where they've touched you, and you notice him wearing them less and less often, now.

In Zhongli's eyes, you are never wrong. You stand at the pinnacle of righteousness, justice and light; anything you say is gospel. He commits all of your opinions, even of the littlest, pettiest things, to memory. His personal thoughts on the matter are meaningless, now— if you dislike it, then it's bad. Simple as that. If you find something enjoyable, then it's good. If your concept of morality is twisted and murky, then he will morph his own to match it; there is no internal struggle, no hesitation in his thoughts and behavior. Your will is all that matters.

When in your presence, Zhongli is perfect. He is courteous, gentle, and benign. He never does anything without your explicit permission. He brews you tea, and tells you anything you wish to know. He worships you with so much vigor it's hard to deny him.

Outside of it, he is barely hanging on by a thread.

Zhongli doesn't know how he lived without you before. He feels vaguely sick even thinking of going back to when you were not present. Just a moment without you is hellish. Every step away from you is like walking on scorching coal. It is an agonizing pain, one slow and tortuous.

He has never felt such pain before. The mere thought of leaving you by your lonesome sends him into a frenzy powered only by his desire to stay by you. He is willing to tear anyone apart should they stand in between him and his god. He can't leave, not when he isn't worthy of your forgiveness yet, not when you're so fragile in your current form.

Every night he rests only barely. Every morning he rises with relief, knowing that once more he is allowed to bask in your company.

Perhaps he's still driven by his insecurity, by the idea of you thinking him unworthy of you.

Zhongli speaks of your grace and elegance, of the light you inspire; he tells you how long he's worshiped you, how long he's loved you.

He tells you of his devotion, of the offerings he's left at your gilded altars, jewels and the finest riches. Zhongli brings them directly to you, now, with an uncharacteristic bashfulness.

He tells you of the wars he's fought in your name, of the blasphemers he's slaughtered— though, conveniently leaving out that he used to be one. Zhongli hopes you're proud of the things he's done in your name, that you will finally embrace him, utterly and wholly.

In the dark of the night, when doubt and searing loneliness so clearly bite at his mind, Zhongli walks to your room. He never dares to walk inside, always conscious of your privacy— but he kneels outside your doors with muted footsteps, only the soft echo of ruffling fabric to accompany him.

He mumbles into the gelid floor unintelligible prayers. He listens for your breathing, for assurance you're still within reach. His unrest is barely abated each time.

When he is particularly nervous, he stands by your doors until morning light, shoulders trembling with unease until you rise from your slumber.

Zhongli is fearful. His muscles are tense as he whispers pleadings that you stay, that you at least say goodbye, should you leave again. He fears one day he will awake and you will be gone.

He fears that he will be left alone again, once more without the tenderness of your guidance. Back to when he had thrown you away, when he only knew of bloodshed and the weight on his shoulders.

You freed him from his self-imposed shackles, whether knowingly or not.

Only when he's assured you're safe will he allow himself peace and serenity.

Only then, will he finally rest in the only paradise he wishes for: being by your side for eternity.

VENUSTUS ; as your lover

Zhongli has always loved you. By virtue of your holiness and sacred being, he has always loved you as his god. As his guiding hand and light, sculpting him into the Archon you want him to be; into a believer worthy of worshiping you.

Faced with your luminous presence, finally able to see what he has only imagined before, Zhongli's love for you only grows. It unfurls like a blossoming glaze lily, petals perfect and serene.

He would never dare presume that his feelings are returned. As his God, you are above him in every way— you are above him in every breath, every step you take. In every slight movement of your fingers, you establish the bridge between you. The line he should never cross.

You are above him. He is beneath you.

Whether it is intentional or not, Zhongli knows his place. He is grateful to be where he is, blessed enough to stand beside you in any capacity. To know that you exist would've been enough, but to care for you personally— to be the one with whom you spend the most of your treasured time with; that is an honor worth dying for.

Zhongli has played with the idea of being your consort before. Of being yours, utterly and entirely. He never lets the thought stay for long. Shame begins to eat at him all too quickly, twisting his stomach into knots of guilt and remorse. He's embarrassed more than anything; of having the gall to dare to imagine himself ever being so important to you.

The thought would've never crossed his mind before, the mere idea laughable. You were untouchable. Above even The Seven, above Celestia. You had not shown interest in any individual for a millennium, and it would be no different now.

But Zhongli knows you now. He's felt the brush of your touch, the zephyr of your breath when he leans in too close. He's felt the warmth running through your veins, the warmth that leaves him flustered, even when you've only touched him for a moment.

The thoughts come more often, now. More vivid. More apparent. You cradle him in your arms, whispering soft words of loyalty and love. You hold his hands in your own, intertwining your fingers, and tell him how you have come to love him. He is special. He alone is yours; no one else.

It terrifies him.

Zhongli is nothing more than your worshiper. He is your servant. He may have been a god, but now he is just your tool. He is content with that much. He should be content with that much. But his heart wants more from you, more than you've deigned to give him.

It wants your love. Your attention. His heart yearns to be special to you; to be the sole holder of your affection.

It's a selfish desire. A nasty one. One that he wishes he could remove, exorcise out of him like a spirit. But every attempt to carve it out of him only leaves him bleeding, and it hurts more to pretend like it doesn't exist. It burns him from the inside out, a fiery jealousy that roars whenever he sees you with another.

It should be me, his heart trembles. It should be me, his heart weeps.

Zhongli is terribly flustered when you begin to show signs of reciprocation. Small things like careful touches, honeyed tones, and words of favor. You compliment him more often, go out of your way to do things that please him; brushing and running your fingers through his hair, listening to him spin tales of old. He is aware that you must know everything already, but you look at him with such big eyes of wonder and interest he can’t help but go on.

He’s barely able to speak when you admit to him your feelings. His heart beats fast in his ears like war drums, his heartstrings tightening as if nocked by an arrow.

It's an uncharacteristic moment of timidity for the wise ex-archon. He's stammering over his words, barely able to keep up his façade of calm. Is that something you truly wish to do? With him?

You assure him— I want this, you say— and Zhongli allows himself to believe you. He follows you when you lead him by the hand into the palace of your heart. He cradles it softly in his hands, gentle and delicate. Zhongli swears to never hurt you, to never let another harm you in any way; but he still fears, still doubts you.

It should be expected for you to have multiple consorts. Multiple lovers, all equally vying for your attention. Zhongli should be happy that you have any interest in him at all— but the thought of being second to another in your heart makes him sick.

Venti, the verdant bard, does nothing but drink. He wastes away his woes in bottles of wine and bourbon; surely, you will not choose him over Zhongli? Ei lorded over her people and took their freedom away. Her reasons do not matter. All for an eternity unreachable by mortals and gods, she attempted to trespass upon your domain. Surely, you will not choose her over him?

The thoughts are foolish. Nearly sacrilegious in nature. He has no control over you; no place to demand that you only love him. But Zhongli has spent thousands of years worshiping you— is it wrong of him to believe himself better than the rest? Venti does not worship you in the way he does, with such fervor or zeal. Ei may pray or rest her eyes beneath your statue, but she has not spoken good of your name like he has, hasn’t hunted blasphemers like he has.

She’d rather her servants deal with them, whenever they so rarely come. Zhongli deals with them personally, knuckles clenched around his blade.

In every way that matters, he is better. As such, he shouldn’t fear, shouldn’t worry of when you will inevitably grow bored— he should enjoy the moments he has with you, the brief time when he is all that you have. When he is still all that you want.

Fear still grips his throat with its tiny, intangible hands. Even if he severs its wrists, it continues to thrive; to suffocate him with its pervasive thoughts.

He must prove himself, it echoes. Or else he'll be deserted. Discarded when another proves themselves his better.

Zhongli won't let himself be thrown away. Whatever he must do to please you, he will do.

Until his mortal form wears down to nothing but dust and bone, until his only coherent thought is how wonderful it is to worship you— until you have no need for anyone else.

Whatever your command is, he will follow. As long as he alone stands in your heart, as long as he alone can kiss the dirt off your feet, he will be content.

He only hopes that he can love you as you deserve.

Zhongli’s zealous behavior worsens to an obscene degree. He never falters in his fervent, almost fervorous veneration— it becomes excessive, almost actorly. Though his obsequiousness appears inflated, it is entirely genuine; he fawns a tad more obviously, smiling with dazed eyes when you kiss his cheeks or lips.

This has always been how he feels. He's only unrestrained, now. And even still, he hides the deeper parts of his worship, the servile and fanatic in him that wants to drool at your lap. It's hard to stop himself every time you sit on your throne to immediately drop to his knees.

Zhongli is happy to give and never receive. He is pleased with being yours, though it never clicks in his mind that the same is applicable to you.

You are not his, but he is yours. If you call yourself his, Zhongli melts. His face blossoms red and it permeates his cheeks for hours afterward. His hands slightly shake and he has trouble standing still in the immediate aftermath. All he wants to do is kneel, and say I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—

If you'd like it, Zhongli would let you do whatever you want with him. Tear him apart with your bare hands, and shred him of any sense; it matters not as long as it's you.

You are everything, your love is everything. Even the softest of your kisses and touches have him breathless and numb, and anything else only serves to make him fall deeper into you.

Only with you is he easy to fluster. Anyone else, and he'd have punished them long ago, if not tore out their eyes for having seen him in such a state.

But it's you. You could crush his heart in your hands, leave him heartbroken and bitter, and Zhongli still would not find it in himself to hate you.

You are the lifeblood that runs underneath Teyvat’s cracked earth, the soft undercurrent that ties it together— and, if only you'd let him, Zhongli would worship you for it.

[rinslutz]

Can i order uuuhhh a dose of second chance romance with satoru? You broke up with him because his ass cheated but now that you guys are starting over, you can't help but still doubt his efforts. (having massive trust issues) but he of course promised to do whatever it takes to gain your trust again. Lots of reassurance pls. We love a devoted Satoru ☹️🤞

ᥫ᭡ “AFRAID” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of cheating, gojo pleads on his knees, gojo is pathetic, reassuances

a/n: anon…you awoken something in me. this is much longer than i wanted it to be and its a bit more than you asked for, sorry.

2 weeks 4 days 15 hours 56 minutes 12 seconds. that’s how long it’s been since satoru last saw you. he wishes he hasn’t been keeping track of the time but it’s the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his sadness. he hates himself for being sad. he doesn’t deserve to feel sad. all of this is his fault.

satoru has been wallowing in his self pity for the past 2 weeks. if he didn’t have a class to teach, he’s sure he would never move from his bed. school and home. those are the only two places you’ll find satoru. so when suguru notices that he hasn’t seen his loser best friend in 2 weeks he “kidnaps” him as satoru claims.

“have you even tried talking to her?” suguru asks nonchalantly. satoru’s nose crinkles in annoyance. why would he ask such a stupid question?

“she doesn’t want to speak to me.” satoru says dryly. this conversation is already starting to frustrate him. he runs his hands down his face.

“did you try though?” satoru is convinced that suguru’s only goal right now is to annoy him. if he wanted to talk about his failing relationship with him, he would’ve called him weeks ago.

satoru sighs obnoxiously, “of course i haven’t. she probably doesn’t want me within 10 feet of her. she hates me.” saying that aloud for the first time makes his eyes burn with tears. he rubs them furiously, not wanting to cry in front of suguru.

“so,” suguru pauses to chew the chips he’s been snacking on the whole time. “you mean to tell me you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” suguru’s statement and the crinkling of his bag of chips send satoru’s annoyance into overdrive. he snatches the bag from suguru’s hands, balls it up, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

“hey, don’t get pissy with me because i’m right.” suguru holds his hands up in defense.

satoru doesn’t reply. he is right though. satoru has convinced himself that he should try to speak to you because you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. in reality, he’s afraid. afraid to face you. afraid to get confirmation that he has lost you forever. but if there’s even a slight chance that begging on his knees would work, he would do it immediately.

you hate him. you hate how even after what he did every part of him, every memory you made with him, every time he told you he loves you, still occupies your brain. the stupid smile still pops into your brain when you’re having a particularly bad day. you wish with some much in you that picturing his smile didn’t immediately make you feel better. it was that smile though. the smile that’s only reserved for you.

you wish you hated him for cheating on him. you’re just hurt. your chest hurts every day. every morning you wake up with sore red eyes from crying yourself to sleep. you hope he’s been crying himself to sleep too, though you doubt it. as desperate as satoru usually acts you expected him to try and contact you. at least once. you got nothing and somehow that hurt more than his infidelity.

the quiet night you’re having is interrupted by the loud and persistent knock at your door. you have no idea who it could be at this hour, so you don’t move immediately. maybe it’s a neighbor wanting to borrow something. if you don’t move maybe they’ll think you’re not here.

“baby?”

your head snaps to the door in surprise. almost immediately, tears spring to your eyes. it hurts hearing his voice for the first time in 2 weeks. you don’t move. you want to open the door but you know you shouldn’t.

“please…can we talk?” it's rare to hear him speak this softly. satoru’s loud knocks begin to soften. you reluctantly get up from your spot on the couch to open the door. you open the door but not all the way, only enough to see his face.

he stands there with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he stands there awkwardly. not sure what to do with his arms, they lay flat at his sides.

“can i come in?”

“leave.” you choke out. you refuse to cry in front of him.

“i can’t.” he steps closer to you. “i need to talk to you. i…i need you.”

you wish you didn’t say that. you wish he didn’t sound so broken when he said it. and because you’re weak for him you let him in. even though you let him in you don’t let him more than 3 feet inside.

you two just stare at each other for moments. his eyes rake over you, taking in every part of you. it felt like an eternity since he’s seen you, he had begun to convince himself that he forgot what you looked like. a stupid thought since he often stared at the small picture of you he kept in his wallet.

“i’m sorry.”

you laugh at that and satoru feels like everything is already falling apart. he’s already messed up. your bitter laugh makes the tip of his ears redden and burn in embarrassment.

“you’re sorry? that’s what you came here to say?”

he wants to tell you that it’s not true, but he didn’t come here to say sorry. he is sorry whether you believe him or not.

“you fucked someone else but you’re sorry so it’s okay right?” your voice is harsh and bitter. and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down your face he would assume you’re just angry. you’re hurt instead and he’s the reason why.

“no that’s not what i’m trying to say.” he shakes his head softly, “it’s not okay. i did the one thing you told me you could never forgive me for.”

if you didn’t love him you would laugh again. if you didn’t love him you would kick him out right now. but if you didn’t love him you would feel empty right and somehow that’s much worse.

“i am sorry. i wish i could explain why i did it-”

“cheated. you cheated. instead of saying “it” say the word gojo.”

he swallows that lump forming in his throat. the way you said his name burned his ears. the bitter tone and the fact that it was his last name.

“i cheated and i regret it so fucking much.”

unconsciously he reaches to grab your hand. when you don’t pull away, he grips your hand tighter. if this is the last time he ever gets to touch you, any part of you, he wants to remember the way your soft skin feels against his. he wants to memorize the way your hand fits perfectly in his and the way your hand warms his cold fingertips.

“i love you so much and i need you. i know you don’t need me but i don’t know what i’m doing. i-i can’t think straight, i can barely breathe when i’m not near you.” he has to swallow again to keep from crying.

“i hate you.”

“i know. i hate me too.”

when you don’t say anything satoru thinks he’s making progress. your eyes don’t hold the anger that they once did. then you pull your hand from his and satoru swears the earth shakes. he pulls his hand back to his side. he clenches his fists, his fingernails pierce his skin. he hopes the pain will distract him from the pain of his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“please,” he says weakly.

you don’t want to give in. he’s done nothing to deserve your forgiveness. you hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you to wipe away his tears. you hate yourself for wanting to forgive. you hate him for sounding so sincere.

“how can i ever trust you again?” satoru doesn’t know how to answer that. you shouldn’t trust him again. satoru is confident that he’d never betray your trust again because the pain of being apart from you like this again very well might kill him. and he’d rather died than hurt you again.

he knows that there’s so way for you to be certain that he won’t hurt you again. you can’t see into his brain or his heart. you can’t see the way his soul yearns to intertwine with yours again, forever.

before he can answer suguru’s stupid voice fills his head. “you mean to tell me. you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” he knows he deserves to beg on his knees. you deserve to have him pathetically beg for your forgiveness.

so, without another word, he bends down on his knees. he grabs both of your hands in his and looks up at you. his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“i will never hurt you again. i promise. i will do anything you want me to in order to prove it to you.” his knees were already beginning to hurt. this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you never forgive him.

“you don’t have to forgive me. you shouldn’t. i’m just asking for a chance to prove myself to you.” he grips your hands tighter, afraid you’ll pull away again.

you’re sure you're making the dumbest decision of your life. you’re weak for him and you may always be. when you left him the night you found out he cheated, you left with your heart still in his hands. tonight, you’ll let him keep it for a little while longer.

“one chance. you fuck up even a little-” before you’re able to finish your sentence, your lips are pressed against him. one of his presses against the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the familiar warmth of his lips against yours makes you melt against him. you slowly and reluctantly wrap your arms around his waist.

a small sob slips from his lips, making you jump slightly. tears fall from his eyes again, wetting both of your cheeks. his arms grip you tighter, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“thank you,” he whispers against your lips

he’s late. for anyone in a normal relationship, this wouldn’t be that bothersome. unfortunately for you, you don’t completely trust your boyfriend. not a hundred percent.

it’s eleven pm and he was meant to be home an hour ago. you tried reasoning with yourself. maybe he is stuck fighting a curse? maybe the higher-ups forced him into doing something? you tried thinking of anything besides the one thing that’s nagging at your brain.

he promised and you believed him. you’re starting to think you’re an idiot for trusting him, trusting that he’d stay loyal. how could you have been so dumb?

you’re staying at his apartment tonight, per his request. he promised that he’d be home in time to catch the new episode of your shared favorite show. he broke that promise so what other promises will he break tonight?

you hear the sound of a key entering the door and seconds later it opens. satoru walks in quietly. there’s a certain look on his face that you cant read. you assume the worst. before you can think critically you shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him.

“how was it?” your voice is bitter and you hate the way it cracks at the end. you hate the way your eyes are already beginning to burn.

satoru look at you, confused. he’s not sure what you mean or why you’re angry. he’s tired and he’s not sure he can deal with this right now. the events of today and the fact that he needed to stay at work later than usual is taking a toll on his body.

“baby, what are you talking about?” he reaches for you and you back away from him. for a second he feels the memories of that day flood his mind. the familiar way you back away from him, the familiar look in your eyes. you can’t possibly think that right now.

“no. hey, don’t let your mind go to that.” he successfully grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his lips. immediately you feel the harsh beating in your chest slow down.

“did you cheat on me?” you ask. you just want an answer now. you need to know if you’ll be leaving tonight or falling asleep in his arms as usual.

“no. i promised you. do you want me to get on my knees for you again?” the look in his eyes is unwavering. when you don’t answer he falls to his knees in front of you.

“a curse attacked a town and killed hundreds of people. it was pretty powerful and it took me longer than usual. that’s where i was. i promise.” he stares into your eyes. there is no hint of a lie to be found.

“i know it’s going to take you a while to trust me again. i will get on my knees every day and promise not to hurt if that’s what it will take.”

you feel like a fool even though you shouldn’t. he understands that you don’t trust him completely and he’s working toward that. you’re embarrassed even though he’s the one on his knees right now. you nudge his hand and motion for him to get up.

“i’m sorry-”

“no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” once he stands he grabs your face in both of his hands. one of his thumbs brushes against you bottom lip. his eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“i promise.” he doesn’t need to say what he promises. you know what he means. he pulls your face towards his and places a sloppy kiss against your lips.

“i love you.” you don’t reply but he knows you love him too.

©rinslutz

[hanggarae]

i want to spend this whole night with you ..

doctor!seungcheol x reader 4.3k words, fluff, minor angst, some jealousy, reader has a broken ankle, this is probably incredibly inaccurate.. based off the one week i spent doing work experience at a hospital, part of waves will take us far away series !

when you’d managed to wind up in the hospital for breaking your arm you were dreading it more than anything, that is until you were assigned to the young doctor who found you too pretty to ignore.

“mom i told you it’s fine. it’s probably just a little sprain it’s been worse before” there was honestly no point in trying to reason with your mother over the phone like this, you know she’d never give in.

you had to admit it did warm your heart hearing the concern in your mother’s voice, but not enough to convince you to head to the hospital. yes, your ankle felt like it was two minutes away from practically falling off of your limbs but you would’ve rather that than spend the next week in the hospital and the next few months having to go to regular check-ups.

“honey, nothing is going to happen to you at the hospital, please stop being paranoid. look, if you leave it any longer your it’ll probably get worse, you’re better off getting it done with now”

she had a point. if you put this off you might wind up having to stay there even longer. a deep breath escaped you as you nodded to yourself, “alright sure i’ll head to the hospital then”

limping as you got out of the taxi and through the hospital doors, you cringed at both the pain and the chemical scent of artificial fragrances hitting your nose. you rubbed the hand sanitizer into your hand while you both stood in a queue for the receptionist desk. two minutes and you already want to go home. great.

“yes, how can i help you?” the receptionist smiled at you, fingers already getting ready to search your name in the system.

“uh hi i booked an appointment for a sprained ankle” you told her handing over your ID.

the receptionist scanned it for a few seconds, the quick clicking of the keys catching you a little off guard. after you’d confirmed the details for her she handed you a small note with the room and doctor name.

you limped walked down the hospital wards, wincing while you searched for the room you were supposed to be in. the hospital was a lot busier today- at least compared to the last time you visited. to be fair that was at least two years ago so you wouldn’t know if this was considered busy anymore.

double checking the room number, you knocked the door pushing it open when, you’re assuming, dr lee let you in. he gave you a cheerful smile, motioning you to the seat while he took his own behind the computer.

“hi miss yn, you said you were here for a sprained ankle?” he waited for your nod, “no problem we just need to run a few tests to see how bad it is, if you’re fine you can be on your way within the hour”

the thought immediately lifted your mood. you spent the next few minutes going through the tests with dr lee, wincing whenever he touched a certain part of your ankle, feeling bad whenever he apologised profusely. he looked confused for a few seconds, checking back on the notes he was given on you, “miss, i’m afraid this isn’t a sprained ankle. from the looks of it i think it may be fractured, we’re going to have to run an x-ray”

he left the room for a few minutes to get everything for the x-ray ready, giving you a few minutes to wallow in your self pity. ‘great it just had to be fractured. walking around on it couldn’t have helped either..’

when dr lee returned he returned with someone else. you scanned his jacket for a name tag eyes relaxing as they set on the ‘dr choi’ in all caps.

‘dr choi’ smiled widely at you before shaking your hand, “hi i’m dr choi, unfortunately dr lee is being called in for something else so i’ll be taking over your x-ray if that’s fine with you?”

oh it was definitely fine with you.

you nodded, turning your head so you could focus on the clock rather than dr choi’s far too perfect face.

the x-rays technically went pretty quick but getting them done felt like hours. dr choi and his stupid too handsome face- “yn? yn you there?” your eyes went wide when you saw dr choi’s face only a few inches away from your own, apparently he’d been trying to get your attention for 30 seconds.

“you’ll have to wait about a half hour until the results come through so for now how about you just keep that ankle raised, alright? i’ll be here finishing your paperwork so if anything starts hurting a lot out of nowhere let me know. oh and i might need to be asking you a few questions too”

“oh that’s fine and thank you” you nodded as he smiled at you, wheeling his chair to the computer and loading up your file. the room was silent for a few minutes so you took it as an opportunity to text back your mom, assuring her everything was fine and that the doctor wouldn’t have to amputate your leg.

“so you thought it was a sprain?” dr choi’s deep voice cut through the silence making you sit up slightly as you answered him.

“oh yeah. it was pretty swollen and when i’d read up on it all i saw was that swelling was usually a sign of a sprain, thought it wasn’t too big a deal” you shrugged your shoulders. you saw an expression flick on seungcheol’s face for a split second; he looked- annoyed?

“if something like this happens again yn please don’t wait until the end to come here” he looked so serious. after seeing his intimidating stare, you wouldn’t have been able to say no if you wanted to.

“you sure you just don’t want to see me more often, dr choi?” you teased in hopes it would lighten the mood. as soon as the words left your mouth though you regretted it- what if you’d crossed a line? surely a doctor doesn’t want to flirt with a patient.

much to your surprise however, the young doctor only shot you a smile before speaking “since we’re probably going to be seeing each other often why don’t you just get used to calling me seungcheol?”

heat rose to your cheeks, dr choi- seungcheol, never wiping the grin off of his face. he only turned back to the computer after you nodded.

“how did you manage to do that to it anyway?” it took you a few seconds to register his question was referring to your ankle but you couldn’t stop yourself growing embarrassed when dwelling back on the memory.

“i uh..” you trailed off, looking to the side. why were you so nervous? you’d easily told anyone else so why were you embarrassed telling seungcheol. “just a little accident, i fell trying to reach something”

seungcheol looked at you unamused and you’d wished you had told him something else, now you just look like an idiot in front of him.

“when did that happen exactly?”

“uh about a week ago? something like that”

“you just walked on your ankle normally for a week?” you looked flustered at his tone, “well no wonder it ended up getting worse. if something like that happens yn you should at least book an appointment with your doctor if you don’t want to head here”

the way he talked to you, it sounded he was so caring. suppose that’s what you need as a doctor. still, even if it was part of his job, you couldn’t help the way he made your heart beat a little faster and cheeks grow a little warmer.

“sorry. the hospital just intimidates me so i guess i was just hoping even if it was a little sprain it’ll heal on its own as long as i don’t put too much pressure on it”

seungcheol nodded at your words, getting something from the desk before turning back to the computer. you could see now that he had a pair of glasses resting on his nose bridge, you hate to admit it but it made him look even cuter than before.

“oh you need glasses?” why did you ask him that? that’s such a stupid thing to ask.

“hm? oh these? nah they’re just blue light glasses” he said with a small smile, continuing his work.

you’d spent the rest of the half hour scrolling on your phone and texting your friends about where you were. your friend jeonghan promising you a bouquet of flowers from the shop when he comes to visit you. you didn’t mention the cute doctor you had that you definitely did not have a crush on. it was just attraction, that’s totally normal.

“oh your x-ray results are back” seungcheol told you, picking it up from the printer and wheeling his chair over to the bed you were on. “alright so it’s definitely a fracture and luckily for you, it’s not too serious. as you can see there only one bone cracked which means you most likely won’t be needing surgery. but considering how reckless you are, we’ll be giving you a cast and i’ll check to see if you can approved for crutches too”

despite all this information there was only one thing you really wanted to know. “so when can i go home?”

seungcheol let out a sigh, “after we get the cast on you and get the okay for the crutches. i’ll send the request in now should take about an hour or two, alright?”

“yeah that’s fine”

it’d been about twenty minutes since you’d gotten the cast on and you can already feel it start to annoy you. this was going to make your life hell for the next- wait how long do you have to wear this thing?

you looked over to seungcheol who was still busy at work, you really did not want to bother him. but then again he did say that you could ask him anything and it’d be fine.

“hey seungcheol?” he turned his head toward you humming, “i was just wondering how long i need to keep this thing on for”

he turned his body completely toward you, “there’s no guaranteed date, usually it takes around 6-8 weeks to heal on its own but it depends on everyone’s own body and how well you take care of it” a teasing lilt in his voice as he told you the last part.

“very funny” you jokingly rolled you eyes at him.

“it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of yourself” he chuckled, spinning his chair around to continue sorting through his files.

eventually you could feel yourself growing more and more tired and before you knew it, you were out cold.

when you woke up there was a blanket covering your frame, the room being illuminated by the small desk lamp and seungcheol’s computer. you groaned a little, stretching your limbs as you rose from your nap. just how long had you been sleeping?

seungcheol heard you and realised you’d woken up, he stood and walked toward you. “sleep well?”

you laughed a little, “yeah i did, what time is it by the way my phones dead” you told him waving your phone that had the red battery sign on it.

“pass it to me, i have a charger you can use it. also it’s uhhh” he looked over at his watch, “just a little past midnight”

“midnight? oh wow how long was that nap” you laughed lightly. “alright well i should get going then”

“do you have a ride?” seungcheol eyed you cautiously.

“after my phone’s done charging i can call jeonghan he usually stays up late” you said more to yourself then to seungcheol.

“yoon jeonghan?”

“yeah.. you know him too?”

seungcheol cleared his throat, “we met a couple months ago. he’s a florist right? we usually get a lot of bouquets from his shop and he’ll sometimes stick around after delivering them. i can call him for you if you don’t wanna wait for your phone to finish charging”

you nodded and mumbled a ‘thanks’ when he handed you his phone. on the fourth ring jeonghan picked up.

“hello? seungcheol you’re up at this hour? usually you’re in bed at 10pm sharp” you heard your friend on the other side of the call.

“jeonghan it’s me”

“yn? what’ve you got seungcheol’s phone for? are you two..?” he trailed off at the end and you knew exactly what he was implying.

“no you idiot. my phones dead and i’m still at the hospital, think you can come pick me up?”

“oh yeah sure. you feeling any better?”

“yeah thanks, text either of us when you’re here okay? bye” you pressed the red hang up sign, handing the phone back to seungcheol.

ten minutes later, jeonghan had texted you that he was waiting outside, reception wouldn’t let him in at this hour. with seungcheol’s help you got to the parking lot, jeonghan parking closest to the entrance so that you wouldn’t have to walk too much.

“i’ll see you again in a week” seungcheol waved you off with a smile.

“see you later, dr choi” you teased him.

when you were completely buckled up in jeonghan’s car and he’d finally left the hospital parking lot he finally asked you what he’d been dying to know for the last fifteen minutes.

“so you and cheol?” he asked you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“he’s just my doctor calm down. i’m not going to try making a move on my doctor” you giggled, “he was pretty cool though.. i guess” you started out the window, trying to desperately fight back the smile when the thoughts of seungcheol flooded your mind.

“oh yeah you’re gone for him already” jeonghan laughed.

“it’s been a day! i couldn’t possibly like him that much after a few hours come on jeonghan i’m not that bad”

“i don’t know, i wouldn’t be so sure. i mean it’s not like you’re the only one who feels like that. cheol could’ve woken you up and went home but he didn’t. he worked overtime to make sure you were alright”

“okay now you’re just being crazy. he probably had his own work to do. what kind of guy would do that for some random person they met two hours before?” you scoffed, throwing him a questioning look.

he shrugged, “i’m just saying what i’ve observed”

you shook your head, remembering what seungcheol had told you, “wait why do you stick around the hospital so much? even after delivering the orders?”

“oh that..” jeonghan was.. blushing? you’ve known him since you were ten and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him blushing, “i’m uh.. friends with one of the surgeons. i usually stick around talking to her and then met cheol and shua. but enough about me what’d they say about your ankle?”

“hm? oh yeah they said it usually takes around 6 weeks to heal, maybe even two months. just gotta be careful with it now that it’s in the cast”

four weeks later you'd returned to the hospital for your checkup, an extra pip in your step despite the crutches. you’d been having regular weekly checkups with seungcheol ever since that day and you enjoy the time spent with him more than anything. the hospital was done up nicely today, decorations everywhere in time for valentine’s day.

your ankle was heeling up nicely, so you’ve been told. if it kept up how it was you’d definitely be out of the cast at the six week mark. when you reached seungcheol’s door you knocked on it a few times before he opened it for you with a smile.

“my favourite patient, how’ve you been? ankle not giving you any new trouble right?” he told you as he helped you up on the bed.

“i’ve been good thanks and no, it’s been the same” you returned his wide grin. it was a long shot but you were secretly hoping he’d do something for valentine’s day. you guys had spent the last few weeks subtly flirting and the chemistry between you both was undeniable.

the checkup went smoothly as usual and seungcheol assured you that you were on a steady path to being completely recovered. as you were about to leave you saw dr hong waiting outside the door, holding a.. bouquet of red roses? seungcheol let him in and took the roses from him.

“jeonghan just left these for you, said you ordered them?” dr hong told him, smiling at you.

“thanks shua” he sighed.

you didn’t want to invade his privacy but you couldn’t help the way that the ‘to you’ card just happened to be right in front of your face. you wished it wasn’t though after seeing who the flowers were really for.

you felt a knot forming in your throat and cleared your throat, “uh i’ll see you next week doctor” you smiled at him tight lipped, not waiting for his response before you headed out the door.

jeonghan was probably around and could’ve given you a ride but you don’t think you could last in a car ride with him. he was far too good at reading emotions and would he able to tell somethings up with you in a minute.

sighing, you opened up the app for an uber and waited in the hospital cafe until you got the notification it was here. the entire car ride you tried your hardest to not think about seungcheol and how sweet he was to you, and definitely not about how the flowers he bought were for someone else and not you.

it’d been a week since your last appointment with seungcheol, and a week after valentines. you felt so stupid and so disgusted at yourself. this entire time you’d been shamelessly flirting with someone who couldn’t want less to do with you. someone who already had a girlfriend that he was buying a bouquet of red roses for.

you had an appointment tomorrow and you weren’t sure how you were going to face seungcheol, it was way too embarrassing to even think about. sighing, you picked up your keys before deciding to go out on a walk. there was a spot you always came to whenever you felt like this. it was past a little public trail near a few fields, everything always felt so calm there.

the only problem was that getting there was usually difficult even when you didn’t have a cast on your leg. it was bound to be even worse now. regardless, you started walking down the trail anyway, trying your hardest to avoid stepping into the dips in the ground too harshly. however careful you were though, the path was too randomly uneven so you couldn’t avoid harshly coming down on one. and it just had to be on your injured leg.

a sharp pain shooting through your ankle as you winced in pain. you sat on some of the grass near the trail and tried keeping your leg as elevated as you could. even if you could get the pain to alleviate, you were still only halfway down the path and trying to go the full way was far too risky. sighing, you stood again to head back home instead, limping and wincing whenever your foot hit the ground a little hard.

eventually the pain was too much so you needed to take a break. even if you could get someone to pick you up, you’d still need to get through this trail to head back to where cars were able to drive anyway.

you stood again continuing your journey back until you heard someone call your name from behind. that can’t be..?

“yn! just because i said your ankle was healing well does not mean you can pull something like this! are you crazy?” seungcheol told you, trying his best to not get mad but you could still tell he was frustrated. “what were you even here for?”

“i just wanted to get to that field” you scoffed, “surprised you even care” you muttered the last part.

“excuse me?” seungcheol looked at you intently.

“whatever, i don’t need to explain myself to you”

“yn i’m your doctor-”

“not right now. right now you’re not working so you’re just choi seungcheol” you told him pointedly.

“yn why are you being like this? did something happen?” seungcheol told asked you hesitantly.

you put some distance between the two of you, “it’s not like i need to tell you any of this. we’re not friends and you’re not my boyfriend, so please do not pretend like you care” you hated how your voice cracked slightly, tears welling up in your eyes. “besides i don’t think your girlfriend would really appreciate this so it’s better i just leave”

before you could leave you felt a strong hand gripping your forearm bringing you back toward him, “what the hell are you talking about? what girlfriend?”

if you hadn’t seen the evidence yourself you would’ve believed him considering how convincing his confused face looks.

“yn listen to me, i don’t even have a girlfriend, if i did i would not have the spent the last month thinking of ways to ask you out after your ankle was fine”

“huh? but- but i saw it! that day- with the flowers! they said to-”

“yn those were for my brother..” he interrupted you, amusement pulling at his features.

“you’re asking out your brother?” you shouted.

“no you idiot! ew! let me explain. my brother needed to get his girlfriend flowers for valentines and i told him about jeonghan. so he asked me to pick them up for him” seungcheol laughed lightly, holding your shoulders so that you knew not to interrupt him halfway through.

“oh.. well- any normal person would assume you were getting those for your own girlfriend!” you pouted trying to turn away from his teasing smirk.

“i don’t really understand why you were jealous though.. hmm” he put his finger on his chin sarcastically. he knew exactly why but still wanted to tease you for it, “oh! unless you’re jealous”

you groaned, covering your face before seungcheol pried your hands away. his gaze on you was too much at once so you turned away attempting to walk away. you’d forgotten where you were though so your foot slipped hard on a whole in the ground again.

“shit- we need to get you back to the hospital. can’t let you walk this whole way though..” you saw seungcheol think about it for a few seconds before he knelt down on the ground in front on you, “get on my back, i’ll carry you back and then you’re headed straight to the hospital, i’ll drop you off”

“are you sure?”

“yes now hurry. can’t believe you were willing to break your leg over something as petty as this” he scoffed jokingly as he made sure you were secure on his back.

it took about twenty minutes to get to the hospital and after they ran all the tests it was decided it was best for you to stay overnight. this time you weren’t in seungcheol’s usual office but one in the emergency ward. you didn’t like this one bit.

when seungcheol walked in he smiled when he met your gaze, “hey, everything alright?”

“well all things considered it’s not too bad i guess” you said sarcastically drawing a laugh out of seungcheol.

“yeah well i didn’t ask you to make the injury worse, did i?”

you stayed quiet for a few seconds, “hey cheol, they won’t need to do a surgery right?”

seungcheol could see the nerves on your face and part of him felt so guilty for finding the pout on your face so cute.

“don’t worry about that pretty, you didn’t manage to break another bone, you just undid some of what was already healed. it’ll take a couple extra weeks to heal that’s it” he said, rubbing his hand over your head to provide comfort to your clearly distressed figure.

there was one more thing you needed to know“and about us-”

“do you really want me to confess to you in a stinky hospital room?” he laughed, “i had a whole plan in mind but now i gotta postpone it because little miss wants to have a broken leg decided she wants to stay in a cast even longer”

“alright, but if you’re making me wait longer it better be good” you tried threatening him, fighting back your giggles.

“get some rest yn, jeonghan said a couple of your friends are visiting tomorrow. sleep well, i’ll be here if you need anything”

during visiting hours the next day you saw seungcheol was right, your friends really did visit you; albeit your best friend was late because she got lost and had to have joshua escort her over.

“oh it feels so good to finally have that thing off” you sighed, “it felt so suffocating after a while i was starting to forget what my leg felt like”

“yeah well make sure you don’t wind up here again or else you might end up in something worse than a cast” seungcheol half heartedly scolded, “try twisting it around. if it feels alright take a couple steps so we can just be completely sure, yeah?”

you did as seungcheol asked more than glad to say everything felt fine and back to normal. you laughed happily, smiling at him when he said you were officially healed and wouldn’t need to keep the cast on.

you wanted to hug him but something stopped you, a twinge of excitement in your eyes when you cleared your throat ready to ask seungcheol, “so about that confession you promised me..”

he chuckled moving closer to you, both of you mirroring each other’s wide grins, “yn. would you like to have dinner with me tonight? i’ll tell you all about my feelings then”

“i would love to” you giggled, finally hugging him.

[cod-dump]

Ah yes hello it’s me again with my antics

one day Nikolai is like doing work in his office (I imagine price and him share an office in the house but price isn’t there right now) and Nikolai is just doing some paperwork for his construction and randomly teen!ghost walks in and says “dad, can you help me with my homework?” And Nikolai is just trying not to burst into tears after hearing Simon call him dad then like two hours later Gaz walks in and nik is like “you need something kiddo?” And Kyle is just like “I just want your company pops” then like later price walks into their shared bedroom and just sees nik crying in the corner is he’s like worried and shit price walks up to him like “what happened??” And nik through tear he just says “they’ve started calling me dad!”

-🫠

Undeserving (teen!Ghost au)

some slight angst (also before Roach’s addition)

———

It was sudden when the boys started referring him as ‘dad’ or ‘pops’ or ‘da’. It was so sudden that Nik had been an emotional mess for a few days since it started. Teary eyed, unable to look at them, wallowing — John was honestly worried about him for the first day.

“I’m fine,” Nik had assured him while looking like he was going explode from the unshed tears.

He didn’t feel fine. He felt so many things, all of them suggesting that he wasn’t fine. He was so happy but terrified. Nik never saw this for himself, this happy, domestic life with a family. He came here to repay his debt with Kate and her people, he never planned on anything like this happening.

He was just supposed to shadow a little boy until he was in a safe environment and in good hands. He wasn’t supposed to still be here. But he was, and it felt like the results from him deciding to stay and see how things would turn out for Simon were undeserving.

He didn’t deserve John. He was an amazing, wonderful man. Perfect in Nik’s eyes. His dedication to caring for Simon even though it was different from his usual work — that was strike one. Nik watched him go from caring for Simon as a basic guardian to loving him as his own son.

Strike two was witnessing the man defend his new life. He strayed from the front lines of hidden wars and bloody battles to something domestic, something soft and simple. Something that men like them tended to never get. And when John had it within reach, he took hold of it and refused to let go.

Of course, strike three was infamously John demonstrating his ability to protect his family and his home. He was a hardened soldier, and Nik witnessed his cold efficiency at his calling. Witnessed how familiar a gun was in his hands, how he seemingly detached himself from the reality that came with placing a bullet in another man’s brain.

John had Nik’s full heart, his adoration and dedication. Of course his children had that, too. Simon technically had Nik’s love first, even though the man still had yet to admit that. He had yet to acknowledge he cared about Simon long before he ever met his soon-to-be father and became enamored with him. It was impossible to deny that now when Simon and Kyle calling him ‘dad’ had him in shambles. He certainly felt he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve any of this.

“Nik.”

John’s voice never sounded sweeter than when they laid curled up in bed. Nik tried to not react but John had that special ability to always get a reaction from him. He shook when he felt John hold him from behind. He was so understanding, he didn’t deserve that.

“You know I’ve seen you cry before,” John whispered, still holding him so gently.

Nik let out a sob and John pressed a kiss to his head. He would hold him until he fell asleep. He would wake not feeling as conflicted. And later that morning when the boys greeted him, he couldn’t help but smile.

[the-original-skipps]

JELOOOO since u wanted more inspo can i suggest a scenario where the reader actually gets found out and was kidnapped what would he do? anyways I HOPE U HAVE A GREAT DAYY

|| WHEN YOU GET KIDNAPPED. || SPY!SCARAMOUCHE ||

wow I didn’t think anyone would read my posts but I’m glad you did. thanks for the marvelous idea I hope you enjoy another dose of spy scara

You have no clue how you got yourself into this situation. One moment you were on your way back home from grocery shopping. The next you were covered in complete darkness.

Though it might just be the blindfold covering your eyes from seeing. With your sight gone you feel your other senses heighten. You can feel your heart beating erratically out of your chest, each breath you take known. The rope rubbing against your wrists leaves an uncomfortable burn. You repeat to yourself that you mustn't panic, by now someone must have noticed you were gone. The first person to come to mind was your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Tears prick your eyes at the thought of him and the possibility of never seeing him again.

Before you could further wallow in your sadness, you perk up at the sound of panicked shouts echoing throughout the room you were held in. You try to make yourself seem smaller hoping they wouldn't notice you. With every bang and shout you flinch in anticipation on when it would end. After a while the room goes deadly silent and you could only hear the sound of what you assume was heavy boots approaching you. You wait anxiously on what's to come next before you feel a hand gently cup your cheek. The sudden touch makes you flinch as your breath hitches, only next to be blinded by the sudden light. You grimace, slowly blinking bringing your sight to focus; you see a blur of black and indigo.

"Hey, are you hurt?"

Only when you hear a familiar voice your body perks up in remembrance, your eyes focus to see Scaramouche crouched down in front of you his brows furrowed with orbs speckled with worry. Your lips quiver as the tears you held back before come flowing naturally at the sight of your lover. He reaches around you to untie your hands, you wince at the burns they left. Once your hands were free you threw your arms around the man, burying your face against his chest. Holding him tightly as if he was just a mirage that might disappear if you let go. Words don't leave your lips, only cries and whimpers. You can feel Scaramouche sigh in relief as his once tense body relaxes at your familiar hold. His arms circling around you to return your embrace. "I...I'm glad you're okay." He whispers quietly as breathes in your known scent. You could only hold him tighter in response, a rush of emotions flooding you. You don't know how you got yourself in this situation but you were glad to know it ended with him.

Too absorbed within your emotions you failed to notice the number of unconscious bodies that lay around you or the stain of red on your lover's hands. No matter, he'll explain himself to you later for now he is just glad to have you back within his arms again. 

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twelve: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, domesticity kink, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, semi-public, bondage, blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking, squirting, cumming untouched, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, murder/blood/gore/drugs(referenced), knife, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is so full of himself that he’s somehow tricked himself into a bit of emotional maturity, Anakin has blooming bromance, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date

August 27th continued.

Anakin climbed through his living room window and shut it behind him, happily humming to himself as he shut and locked it behind him. He spread out two trash bags on the floor after rolling up the rug to get it out of his way.

Armed with a pair of scissors and a few gallon ziploc bags he went to work on the clothes he’d been wearing. Thankfully, he had enough sense to buy jeans and a hoodie from the Goodwill. He can’t fuck you in the clothes he killed a man in, that’s just gross. So he chopped up the fabric in little squares while watching an episode of Narcos for the irony of it.

He planned to drive around the city tomorrow and dump the remnants of his clothes down every sewer grate he could. He already said goodbye to his third favorite butterfly knife, having shoved it into a culvert on his way home. As well as his throwaway sneakers which he chucked into the murky water of the deep river that flowed beneath the bridge he trekked across to get home- the long way.

Anakin was a good citizen, he knew he couldn’t flush the drugs. He couldn’t dispose of them in the trash, he definitely couldn’t keep them, so he did what every responsible person would do: dumped them in the medical wastes slot at the CVS.

The cash on the other hand… over $2,000. That- that he could definitely keep.

With his mind cleared, soiled clothes squared away, and plan in place; he hit the shower and reveled in the faint metallic scent of blood that trickled down the drain. Mentally adding ‘new loofah’ to his to-do list, he scrubbed away at his skin with dawn dishsoap until he felt like his skin was screaming for him to stop. Then he used his favorite smell-good cedar soap, enjoying the steam of the scalding water pelting his back as he rinsed himself clean.

Diary Entry: August 28th

I feel GOOD. I feel better, I feel fresh.

My worries went down the drain along with every scrap of evidence I created. Have you ever felt such a clear and palpable mental reset? I haven’t.

I haven’t had a single negative thought since my visit with Joel. It’s all been rainbows and shittin’ unicorns, I know what it’s like to live completely carefree now. I could go the rest of my life and suffer through whatever disaster life throws our way and do it with a fucking smile.

Gods I just love you. I love you so much.

You’re perfect. I don’t know how the hell you do it princess but you’ve found every possible way to improve my life and you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time! It’s like you know exactly what I need without ever speaking it aloud. You just let the pieces fall into place.

It was your idea to DoorDash the pizza, your choice to wear that slutty pajama set I love so much, your sunshiny predisposition that drew his attention and the bangin’ body that held it. Without that, all of it, I’d still be wallowing in the throes of despair at my untimely death via withering away.

But here I am, having a damn good day!

The only thing that would make it better is me fucking you like a jackrabbit on his third 5hr Energy. However, I love you and as much as I’d like to fuck you within an inch of your life, I will not. I have a hand that works perfectly fine and a plethora of porn starring you that I can drool over until I’ve sated myself enough to act like a semi-normal human.

How will I broach the subject of my unrequited love today? I don’t know. Am I worried about it? Hell no. I have faith in my goddess to deliver what I’m worthy of.

How will I look you in the eye after my late night escapade? With a fucking smile.

Date

August 28th

You traded texts back and forth with Anakin all morning. Something had crawled under his skin and bit him with venomous lust, he’d sent you pretty pictures of his weeping cock, cum dribbling out and down the back of his hand. He’d texted, described in delicate detail what he’d like to do to you with the most vile and disgusting words to caress that sick little minx that lived inside your stomach.

He had you clenching around nothing, gushing slick behind the counter at the diner. Blushing deep, dusty rose petal red across your cheeks and creeping up under your shirt collar. You felt hot, your hands sweaty and mind flustered beyond belief. You hadn’t felt this sexually frustrated since Ghost had stopped torturing you in your sleep.

You were nervous and bashful around customers as if they could see straight through your polite voice and put together appearance. Underneath the confidence that you reserved for waiting tables was a deprived and thoroughly soaked cunt that controlled your every waking thought.

“Princess?” Anakin’s deep gravelly bedroom voice floated over the Formica countertop and wrapped you up in a warm embrace.

You looked up and saw the face of a desperate man. His pretty blue eyes had been completely swallowed up by his lust… love blown pupils. His normally calming cloud of energy was replaced by a jittery, buzzing storm of bottled up euphoria. He couldn’t wait to pop the cork and share it with you.

“Vigo?” Anakin’s voice cracked, his smile only growing bigger when your coworker popped his head around the kitchen door frame. “I’m stealing her.”

“Hey, you gotta clock out!” He shouted after you as Anakin gripped your wrist and whisked you out to his car. Vigo was already on his way to the time cards, punching it in for you to save himself the worry of you forgetting.

“Anakin what’s gotten into you?” You panted, trying to catch your breath while Anakin licked into your mouth and sucked the tip of your tongue. Kissing you as messily as he could short of drowning you via spit swap.

“Woke up missing you.” He groaned, nuzzling your breasts. His nose nudging the valley while he rubbed his cheeks against the swell, pushing them together with his splayed hands.

“Can’t help it.” He breathed out, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your shirt.

“Ani.” You moaned, tugging his head away gently. “You already gave me a massive hickey.” He chuckled as you reminded him of the purplish bruise you’d attempted to cover with makeup.

“True.” He nodded, nipping you again anyway. “You could stand to have a few more though.”

“Shit, not now.” You shook your head and bucked up your hips, wiggling out of your jeans.

“Damn, that’s what I like to see sweetheart.” Anakin growled, smacking your ass lightly as he laid down in the back seat. “C’mere baby let me see my pussy.”

You giggled, complying and gingerly hovering over his mouth only to earn a frustrated groan from him.

“Goddamnit. I-I’ve never seen you this wet.” His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up at you, his enlarged pupils snapping a mental picture of how beautiful you were from your position above him where you belonged.

Both hands suddenly gripped your hips and pulled you down on top of his face. He held on tightly, keeping you in place despite your concerns of suffocating him.

“Don’t care.” He moaned, thrusting his tongue up and swirling it around inside your entrance, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit as he guided your hips to ride his face. “I’d be dying the happiest man on earth.”

“Oh my god.” You sucked in a sharp inhale, your palm smacking the headrest while your fingers hurt from the force of your grip on it.

“Mhmmmm.” You could feel his smug grin beneath you, even in this position he was able to establish dominance with just that crooked smirk and hard look to his eyes.

“Anakin…” moaning, you reached down to play with his hair, his mouth pulling your clit between his teeth to suck harshly, flicking his tongue at a fast pace in hopes to bring you to orgasm quickly. “Anakin please… s-slow.”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head with a chuckle, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass.

“My pussy… my rules.” He mumbled, the words muffled and nearly incoherent.

He slurped and sucked, dragging his tongue in long stripes up your center, dipping the tip into your hole each time it passed over. He’d never eaten you so desperately, never had he sent you spiraling into orgasm this quickly. Heat traveled from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears, your hole quivering around his tongue darting in to lick up your cum.

“Ani- Anakin enough.” You whined, trying to get up but he just brought you back down and laved at you with just as much fervor.

“Please no… hurts.” You hiccuped, sensitive beyond belief and not ready for more in the slightest.

“Shhhh.” Anakin laughed, nibbling on your clit carefully, he slipped one hand beneath you, palm side up.

He tapped your hip and let you raise up for a moment to catch your breath, lasting less than a few seconds before he was one-armed manhandling you back over his face.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch baby.” He whispered, stroking your folds gently before prodding at your entrance.

“Oh sweet lord-“ he moaned loudly, watching your greedy pussy sink down on his fingers from below, your hole fluttering around the two digits.

“You’re so wet.” He whimpered, gazing up at you like you’d hung the moon just for him.

“All this for me?” He asked softly, as if he weren’t really sure what your answer would be.

“All for you Ani.” You nodded, brushing your knuckles across his cheek while he started pumping his finger inside slowly, stretching you out to take a third.

“Jesus, I don’t know what I wanna do.” He groaned, “I wish I could touch you all over all at once.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up for you to see the fruits of his labor, the creamy slick coated his fingers, stringing them together when he pulled them apart. He barely grazed your bottom lip with it before sucking it hungrily from his fingers.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, pulling you back down with such force that you lost your balance and accidentally unlocked the car door, you giggled and quickly corrected your mistake, Anakin chiding you from below.

“Clumsy little brat.” He grinned, kneading your ass cheeks roughly.

His tone might’ve been playful but the look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory. He lapped at your glistening folds with the enthusiasm of a wildcat on a fresh kill, by the end of it he’d be sucking the bones dry.

Anakin hummed at the taste of you, groaning, babbling nonsense more to your cunt than to you:

“Tastes so good.”

“So pink and pretty for me.”

“Poor pussy just missed me so much huh? Is that why she’s crying?”

He switched up suddenly and had you frozen in place, your jaw dropped open as you let out a choked sob, tilting your head back to look at the car’s ceiling. He’d bit down on your raw and sore clit, peeling back the hood to tortuously bully it with kitten licks all while sucking as hard as he possibly could. It was too much, so much, all at once.

You were already so sensitive, you had already begged him to stop, now you had no words left, just pitiful whimpers as you bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your legs quivered uncontrollably as goosebumps pricked your flesh, every hair standing on end as Anakin literally sucked you dry as you’d jokingly predicted.

He drew out a long and reedy noise from the depths of your chest, clawing it’s way through the fire in your lungs and past the torn skin on your lip. Creamy cum gushed from your core, coating his chin and neck.

The main course, what he was really after, was the hot juices that dribbled down the back of his throat as he sucked the nectar straight from the source. You would’ve worried you might drown him if you couldn’t visibly see his heavy breathing, feel and hear each desperate swallow and whimper. You could feel his stomach tensing along with his arms, his hands followed and closed into fists.

Turning his head to the side he bit down on your inner thigh, causing you to jolt and yelp, almost missing the way one of his hands flew to his crotch and squeezed his thick cock through his jeans, running his thumb over the fat, swollen tip as a small and sticky dark patch bloomed on his upper thigh.

“N-no no.” He whined, bringing you back down to his face, he carefully avoided your abused clit in favor of cleaning up your thighs and messy cunt, digging out every last drop of slick with his tongue.

“You… you are so fucking hot.” He panted, whimpering in pain when he sat up repositioned his cock.

“Did you-“

“Cum? Yeah.” He nodded sheepishly, stroking himself in his jeans for a moment before removing his hand and showing you the mess he’d made in his jeans.

“No way.” You whispered, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

“Yes.” He growled, shoving his hand between your thighs to wipe his cum off onto your spent pussy. “I don’t think you understand what you do to me sweetheart.”

“I’d pay good money to find a way to live inside your skin with you. Just to be close as I could get.” He said quietly, helping you back into your panties and jeans, wiping the excess cum onto the inside of his tshirt.

“I’d sell my soul just to breathe the same air as you if that’s what it took.” He said, pulling you into his lap and crushing you in a hug.

“You are like a Ghost that haunts every corner of my mind.” He whispered, licking the makeup off of your poorly hidden hickey.

Anakin didn’t miss the way you breathed in a sharp breath at his words it took a lot of willpower not to smile against your neck when he heard you audibly swallow with nervousness.

“I wake up and I think of you. I go to sleep and I dream of you.” His rough palms caressing the soft skin of your stomach. “Everything I see, everything I do, it all reminds me of you.”

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He said softly. “You’d never doubt yourself again.” His lips grazing your earlobe as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, breaking the heavy tension by cracking a smile and tickling the tip of your nose with your hair.

He gently cupped your cheeks and brushed the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and under your eyes. Staring at you with those unwavering black saucers in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d done drugs. It’s unnatural for a human’s eyes to stay dilated for this long. But you knew Anakin, he was just high on you.

Diary Entry: August 28th continued

I have so much energy and I don’t know what to do with it all. I might try bench pressing a school bus, I could probably make it move alittle. If I didn’t give myself a hernia first.

What I really need is more of you. I thought a little sweet treat might tithe me over but I was WRONG. I’m feeling a new kind of insatiable.

It’s time for Ghost to get back to his old tricks with a new accessory: my rarely worn tongue stud.

Man I love it though, it clacks against my teeth so good. I can hear it in my brain for like, minutes after I’ve done it. Such a satisfying sound. Its crisp.

Which is unfortunately the reason why I can’t wear it often anymore.

I click clacked it around my bottom row of teeth too much and the dentist made me promise not to do it anymore. Turns out abstinence is actually the best method when it comes to prevention. If it’s not in my mouth I can’t fuck up my teeth, but I can play with my lip piercings. Yeehaw I love a loophole.

Anywho. I feasted on my favorite meal today and I desperately need more before I actually go insane. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you til I lose consciousness.

I want you to be awake though because as hot as it is to watch you cum in your sleep, it’s even hotter to see you reacting to the things I say. Deny it all you want baby but you’re my whore.

Ghost, Anakin, both. You’re willing to do anything for my cock.

Date

August 28th continued.

Anakin can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s like he’s been corrupted by an incubus, he’s turned into an insatiable beast that just can’t stop. You’ve seriously considered the possibility that he may have somehow gotten his hands on some ecstasy and a suped up gas station boner pill.

Though logically you know exactly what is happening. He’s just giddy and feeling a weight lifted from his chest after confessing to you. It makes perfect sense. Carrying a secret like that is a burden, you know that very well by now.

Anakin is purely running off adrenaline fumes and endorphins. He’s burning it off the best way possible, by touching you in every direction, position, time, space and dimension that he can put you in.

He’s fucked you twice after taking you home from work today. Kitchen counter? From the back with your legs dangling helplessly, your sweaty skin sticking to the countertop. Coffee table? He pushed you down on it, swiping off the scattered items on it, including the freshly made sandwich and chips you’d brought him. He had said ’F-fuck… you’re just so sexy when you’re domestic.’

Right now on your third go around, he had finally, finally agreed to take you to the bed after you’d formed a triangle shaped bruise from the corner on the kitchen counter.

“M’sorry baby,” He whispered, licking away the dull pain on your hip from between your legs. “didn’t mean to.”

“I know Ani,” you breathed out, “it’s not your fault.”

“It is.” He nodded, pulling you toward the edge of the bed and gently helping you onto you hands and knees. “My poor girl.”

“You’re just so pretty. You’re so perfect. You’re so… you.” He sighed, standing behind and to the side of you to caress your injured hip.

His rough palm glided over the hot, sticky skin of your spine to brush your hair away. His free hand slowly tracing a delicate pattern across the plumped flesh of your ass, all five digits teasing the skin with tingling trails of warmth.

His lips caressed your tender skin up and down your side while he lovingly slipped a finger between your pussy lips. He groaned and made a fist between your shoulder blades to keep control of himself, your wetness feeding his need to be sheathed inside your warm and welcoming cunt.

“Pretty, pretty baby.” He whispered, his voice cracking while he brought his burning hot cheek down to rest against the swell of your ass, toying with his lip piercings to stifle a moan at the sloppy noises his pointer finger made on its descent into your depths.

“You’ve been so good for me.” He praised you, massaging your shoulder with one hand, kissing your ass cheek as he turned his head and rested the other side of his blushed face there, switching sides to watch your expressions change with each plunge of his finger.

“My little girl…” he growled, low and deep in his throat, “letting me take what I need.”

“Just wanted you to feel good Ani.” You sighed, gratefully accepting a second finger from him, feeling him twist his wrist back and forth with each slow thrust.

“Mmm, I did sweetheart.” He chuckled, “trust me, it’s hard to feel anything but heavenly when I’ve got my hands on you.”

“You’ve been so needy.” You whined, letting him guide your hand to your clit so you could rub yourself at your own pace along with his languid fingers.

“I know.” He clicked his tongue. “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“Course I’m okay.” You moaned, leaning back against his hand while his fingertips pressed and massaged your inner core.

“I put your poor little body through a lot today huh?” He cooed, switching his free hand over to your other shoulder to massage it the same as the other.

He smiled widely as he watched your face relax and felt your breathing slow into a steady rhythm. He felt proud. Proud of you, of himself, of his self control.

“Felt good Ani.” You whispered, your fingers tightening around the sheets in your fist while you rocked back onto his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. “I needed it too.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, hearing the content sigh escape your lips. “You think you can cum for me again baby?” He asked softly, kissing the small of your back.

“N-no.” You whimpered, shying away from his gentle probing fingers.

“You sure sweetheart?” He asked, slowing his movements even further. “It’s okay baby, I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

“M’sure.” You shook your head rapidly, “I can’t.”

“Okay baby.” He chuckled, “ready for me to stop then?” He asked.

“No… not yet.” You said quietly. “Lay with me?”

“Oh sure thing princess.” He grinned, removing his fingers just long enough for him to turn off your lamp and help you slide under the blankets, his nakedness pressed firmly against yours.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” you giggled, Anakin’s arms wrapping around you tightly while he kissed the nape of your neck, spooning you from behind.

“Cozy?” He asked with a gruff tone, slipping his fingers back into your messy pussy from behind to continue the slow and gentle caresses.

“So cozy.” You nodded. “I’m gettin’ sleepy.” You said tiredly.

“I figured so.” He nodded, his voice a soft whisper. “I’ll lay with you until it’s time for me to leave for work okay?”

“I’ll make sure everything is all locked up when I leave, I’ll kiss you bye.” He spoke low and soothingly as he gently rubbed your neck, removing his fingers from your folds when he heard your breathing slightly change.

“I’ll text you,” he whispered, sucking your slick from his fingers between words, not hiding his hard-on as it pressed against your ass. “when I get there and when I get back home. I’ll miss you so much until I see you again tomorrow.”

Soon enough you were deep in sleep and Anakin was glad he’d made you take your pills at dinner time, he’d thought ahead and considered the very real possibility that you’d end up being fucked to sleep.

He was right of course.

——————————————————————————

“Anakin what the hell man?” Trevor chortled shoving a handful of ice down the back of Anakin’s shirt in retaliation to the towel-whip he’d dealt Trevor.

“What? Can’t a guy be happy?” Anakin laughed.

“Happy? Nah you’re fucking hyper.” Trevor grinned. “What’d you do that’s got you feeling so good? Gimme some.” He teased.

“Shut up, the hardest thing I do is pot you know that.” Anakin snorted.

“Then what’s the deal?” Trevor splayed his own hand a few inches from his face.

“I’m love drunk baby.” Anakin waggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders.

“Jesus I don’t even know you! Who are you and what have you done with my jackass?” Trevor grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with a laugh, turning to pour a beer on tap for a patron.

“I ate him.” Anakin shrugged and giggled.

“I’m calling your girlfriend. I don’t know if I can be around you anymore.” April said, walking past the two of them with a serving tray.

“She needs a break from me, she’s very tired.” Anakin said with a proud grin.

“Oh my god!” April cackled and made a quick exit from behind the bar to serve drinks at a corner table.

“Fucking freak.” Trevor snickered.

“That’s what she said.” Anakin stuck out his tongue and flicked it with an impish grin.

After an hour or so the bar traffic grew stagnant and Anakin stepped out back for a cigarette, flicking his zippo out to light the flame and swinging in shut. Letting a curl of smoke leave his lips to breathe in through his nose. He leaned back against the brick wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, raising his arms above his head to rest his fists on his forehead.

He was looking up at the hazy city-light polluted night sky, searching for stars, when the back door swung open and Trevor stepped out with a bottle of beer for himself and one for Anakin.

“Trade me.” He grunted, sitting down on an old wood crate and holding out the beer bottle, two fingers extended for Anakin to sit a cigarette between.

“Yessir,” Anakin nodded, going so far as to light it for his friend.

“Anakin.” Trevor said thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Anakin said, tipping up the beer bottle and watching the amber liquid bubble as he took a gulp.

“Did you hate me?” Trevor asked. “When you first started here?”

“What? Pfft, no what are you talking about?” Anakin asked, pushing off the wall with his black leather boot.

“I don’t know, you’re just different.” Trevor said with a shrug. “You just seemed so… excuse my critique; cold and distant.”

“Criticism accepted.” Anakin nodded. “It’s true I guess.”

“Yeah? So what changed?” Trevor asked in curiosity, a rare moment of vulnerability shared between two male friends wasn’t to be wasted.

“Met a girl. Got my shit together.” Anakin said, flicking cigarette ash to the pavement. “I love her you know?”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” Anakin nodded. “I told her. She hasn’t said it back yet.”

“Well damn I’m sorry man-“

“No don’t be. She’ll say it.” Anakin held up his hand to stop him. “She just ain’t ready to admit it that’s all.”

“How are you not all depressed and shit?”

“I was, but I realized… I don’t care.” Anakin said simply. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if I have to wait until I’m dead in the ground. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

“I had myself a bit of a freak out.” Anakin admitted, “but after I cooled off I’ve been… happier than I’ve ever been.”

“That why you’re all…” Trevor gestured to him with both hands.

“Yessir.” Anakin grinned.

“So you’re acting like you’ve won the fuckin’ lotto because your girl didn’t say she loved you?” Trevor raised his eyebrows.

“She doesn’t have to.” Anakin said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, placing the cigarette between his lips, inhaling slowly. Grabbing it between his forefinger and thumb he brought it back down to his side and made an O with his lips, hollowing his cheeks and flicking the dip in his cheek to let a ring of smoke out.

“I know she does.” Anakin said, tilting his head back against the brick and letting it loll to the side to look over at Trevor. “She didn’t run off, she didn’t tell me to get lost, she laid there with me… pretty little head on my chest.” Anakin said, making a motion with his hand above his heart.

“Then today.” Anakin said, clicking his tongue with a smirk. “She sat on my face in the parking lot of the Bluebird during her break n’ let me fuck her all over the house when I got her home.”

“Jesus, here I was thinkin’ you were being sweet.” Trevor snorted, flicking his bottle cap so the it bounced off the toe of Anakin’s boot.

“If that doesn’t scream love I don’t know what does.” Anakin sighed contentedly, stubbing out his cigarette and dropping it into the designated rusty coffee can for cigarette butt.

——————————————————————————

“Hey, look Trev isn’t that the guy uh… the one who did that thing junior year of highschool?” April shouted over the din of the bar from the other end of the counter, pointing up to the smaller tv playing the news rather than the basketball game.

“Uh… hold on I can’t- I don’t have my glasses.” he said walking over and squinting, Anakin walking up behind him to look over his shoulder.

“Mm yeah that’s the guy they called- uh,” he thought for a second before snapping his right hand fingers and bringing his palm down on top of his fist, pointing up at the screen. “Duck! Didn’t they?”

“Yeah! Yeah, him.” April nodded, sucking on a lemon slice she’d dipped in sugar.

She turned back around and shook up the tumbler she was mixing a drink in, pouring it over two glasses and sliding it across the table to their owners.

“Why’d they call him that?” Anakin asked, wiping down the bar, before washing up some shot glasses.

“He’d duck his head up under the bleachers to look up girls skirts at the pep rallies.” Trevor said with a huff, “real shit guy.”

“Tried to sell my brother herbs instead of herb.” April turned around with an amused look on her face.

“Huh.” Anakin said, tonguing the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk. “Real shit guy indeed.”

“Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Trevor said with a chuckle.

“Why’s that?” Anakin asked, tossing his towel over his shoulder, rubbing his palms together while he sucked on the ball of one of his snake bites.

“Like I said, real shit guy.” Trevor scoffed. “Doubt they’re even looking too hard for the guys who did it.”

“Guys?” Anakin asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yeah-“ he looked over his shoulder, “what’d it say April? Four of ‘em?”

“Yep.” She said, tossing her lemon rind in the trash.

“Damn.” Anakin shook his head.

“Yeah, the guy who ‘found’ him graduated with us too.” Trevor said, glancing back up at the tv and seeing it had switched over to the weather. “Supposedly it was a real mess, shit everywhere. Stole a bunch of stuff, some kind of drug related thing.”

“Well shit, poor guy.” Anakin shook his head, “that’d be a real nice thing to walk in on.”

“Well hell yeah it would, looking like the Red Seas in there.” Trevor snorted.

“How do you know?” Anakin asked with a smile.

“The dick posted it on his private Snapchat story before he called the cops.” Trevor said, “I didn’t see it, but my buddy did and he said it looked barf worthy, could smell it through the screen.”

“Goddamn that’s nasty.” Anakin winced, “thanks for that mental image.”

“I had to imagine it, so you did too.” Trevor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Share the wealth or whatever.”

“Trev, I don’t think that applies to murder.” April said, walking past the boys.

“It does now, baby.” He said, tapping her ass as she walked past.

“Hey!” She shot him a dirty look but blushed and smiled anyway. “Told you not to do that at work.”

“Can’t help it.” Trevor shrugged. “Stress reliever.”

“Oh whatever.” She snorted.

“Anyway yeah- apparently the dude, Kyle Spencer, is suspect number one. He was high as a kite when he called Duck’s dad.”

“He called his dad?” Anakin asked confusedly, “not the cops?”

“His dad is the cops.” Trevor said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth before tossing a stick to Anakin.

“Oh shit.” Anakin scoffed, “so what, he called the guys dad to figure it out?”

“Mhm.” Trevor nodded. “At least that’s what everyone thinks. Cause Duck’s dad arrested the guy himself and seemed real ticked off about getting the call. He was at his other son’s house for the grandkids birthday.”

“Well, well, well.” Anakin snorted, covering his mouth to hide a grin as he poured a whiskey. “Isn’t that some good luck?”

——————————————————————————

“I’ve missed this.” Anakin sighed, cradling Boogie in his arms like a furry orange baby while he stood at the foot of your bed and watched you sleep.

“It’s the simple things you know?” He whispered, his filtered voice tapering in and out. He smiled beneath his mask, watching you stir slightly, kicking the covers off your feet.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom, setting your cat down on the kitchen counter and pouring her a third of a bowl of food. He took off his left hand glove to give her some chin scratches, then from the white patch between her eyes all the way to the end of her fluffy tail.

“You know, I used to really despise cats.” He said, leaning over on the counter and propping himself up on his gloved fist, watching her eat.

“The therapist I had as a kid said it was cause cats don’t automatically take to a person like dogs do.” He picked up her back foot and gently squish her paw pad to spread out her toe beans just to see her claws flex out.

“Cause they don’t listen. You can’t make ‘em listen, you can’t make ‘em do anything they don’t want.”

“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded. “You’re sweet, makes me… hmm, I wouldn’t say regretful. Just dissatisfied about before.”

“That’s okay though.” He sighed, “personal growth and whatnot.”

“I hope your momma won’t be too upset. I promised I’d start telling her before I visited, but you know tonight wasn’t really planned ahead and I got side tracked, and then sidetracked again, cause I’m here talking to you!” He chuckled, giving her a head pat.

“So hang out in here, okay kitty? I’ve got things to do.” He chuckled, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the front door, he made sure his socks were pulled up beneath his jeans and his gloves and sleeves were as they should be.

He crept back into your room, shutting the door behind him, thankful that you’d stayed naked after your evening escapade. You’d sprawled out, one leg bent and your arm above your head, the other hidden beneath the blanket along with your chest, middle and other leg. Anakin walked to the window and opened the curtain just the tiniest bit, allowing a sliver of moonlight to cast a pearly sheen across your exposed skin.

He stood and stared for a long while, having missed the scene before him. So many times he’d slunk in the shadows of your room, clinging to the wall to avoid disrupting that very beam of moonlight. He would scowl and chide you in his mind for leaving the curtains open, but he’d always, always, stop and observe the way you breathed under the pale periwinkle tinted light.

Once he’d had his fill of your nighttime innocence, he closed the curtain and returned you to the black of slumber, preparing to drag you with him on his path to midnight madness.

He lifted the blanket and folded it over out of his way, using the pretty patterned top sheet to cover his head after taking off his mask and placed it on the bed beside him.

Just for the extra security he tugged up his hood as well and hoped that he wouldn’t sweat to death before he could make you finish.

Slowly pushing your legs apart, he smiled at the soft breath you took in when he gently held your hip so that you wouldn’t shift out of position. Anakin pulled off his right hand glove and shoved it in his back pocket so it wouldn’t get lost beneath the sheets.

He kissed along your outer lips, pressing his nose against the crease at the apex of your thighs, inhaling the scent of you and dragging his tongue along behind as his nose traveled up that crease until he reached your hip, where the waist band of your panties should be. He took a moment to nuzzle into the softness of your lower belly, showering your satin skin with kisses before returning to your slit.

His mouth hovered over your folds as if he were mentally preparing himself to savor you slowly, compared to the fast-paced feasts he’d had on you earlier in the day.

With his tongue laid out flat he licked up the remnants of his cum and yours, introducing you to the warm ball centered toward the front of his tongue, purposely letting it catch against your clit. He breathed through his nose, leaving his tongue flat to circle and flick the metal ball over your clit, smiling in triumph when you jolted at the first movement.

He circled your entrance with the calloused pad of his thumb, slurping up your creamy slick from your folds. He flexed his tongue to swipe it side to side the bottom ball of the metal bar scraped along his bottom row of teeth, making a dull metallic sound that seemed much louder to Anakin than it was in reality so he halted his movements to listen for a change in your breathing.

After ensuring you wouldn’t ruin his fun too early he continued his gentle licks and prods of his tongue to your leaking hole. He pulled his mask closer to him, he needed to feel your heat around his fingers and he knew it wouldn’t take too long before you realized what was happening. After all, you didn’t drink your tea.

Inserting one finger slowly his curved it upward and flicked his tongue side to side at the same pace of his finger. He felt you stir beneath him, so he placed a sloppy kiss to your clit. Lazily licking across you rather than giving you calculated movements. He pushed in a second finger, groaning loudly at the squelch when your cunt hungrily sucked in the extra digit.

Your hands came down to push him away, trying to close your legs in your half-awake state.

“Ani?” You asked, trying to cover your drenched pussy with your hand when you felt an unfamiliar sensation slide over your clit, smooth and warm.

Anakin’s ego skyrocketed, but his penchant for deviant behavior told him that statement should be punished by Ghost. Although he’d have to make that decision later because you were getting whiny and impatient.

“Anakin, please.” You mumbled. “What’s that?”

Anakin halted his movements and slipped on his mask and quickly shoved his hand in his glove.

“I’ll give you one more guess little doe.” The modified voice cut through the fog of your sleep and you bolted upright.

“Ghost?” You gasped in surprise, pulling the blankets back over you. “You didn’t- why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Don’t be embarrassed baby,” he cooed, tugging the blankets away and running his leather hands up your stomach, stopping just beneath your tits. “This is an emergency visit and-“

“What?” You asked in confusion, your eyebrows furrowed. “What happened? What did you do?”

“Um… ow. Hurtful.” He said in a disappointed tone. “I didn’t do anything except develop a raging hard-on.”

“You ass!” You shouted, smacking at his arm. “You scared me!”

“Hey.” He barked. “Maybe next time let me finish talking yeah? Jumping to conclusions like that’ll strain a muscle.”

You stared at him in a state of… not shock or fear, but a bewildered sort of amusement. Once again: the audacity of this man is astounding.

“What?” He asked, sounding irritated.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“W-wha… hey?” He stammered, confused by your laughter. “Are you laughing? What’s funny?”

“You.” Another laughed bubbled up from your chest.

“Wait- what? You… you’re...” His mouth gaping beneath his mask. “Are you for real?”

“Oh- I’m sorry no… no don’t be mad.” You said reaching out but snatching your hand back quickly after remembering what happened last time you touched him like that without permission.

“Mad?” His voice crackled, the modified voice hinting at hurt in his tone. “Why- why would you think I’m mad?”

“Doe, I’m… that makes me happy.” He said quietly. “This is the first time I’ve made you laugh.”

“What?” You scoffed, “no it’s not.”

“It is.” He said solemnly. “Trust me I keep track of things like that.”

“But-“

“No, no. Trust me.” He said, straddling your legs but not putting any weight on you. “You’ve done that dorky anxious laugh a few times. But I mean… that was a real one.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, your face falling when you realized he was probably right.

“Doe, I’m sure about everything when it comes to you.” He said low and serious, inching closer.

“I’m sorry.” You said, feeling horrible. “That- I’m sorry, that makes me feel bad.”

“Don’t.” He said sternly. “Don’t feel bad.”

“I just had the most fitting conversation earlier today.” He said slowly. “Talking about things and waiting till they’re ready. You laughed cause you were ready.” He said with a defining nod, cupping your cheeks with both hands and carefully caressing your under eyes.

“I’ve always been in favor of positive reinforcement.” Anakin said, smiling to himself. “Do you think you deserve a reward?”

“What is it?” You asked suspiciously, looking him over.

“Something new.” Anakin said simply.

“But,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “You have to promise that you’ll listen to me.”

“Okay…” you nodded cautiously.

“Good girl.” He gave you a curt nod in return, breathing deeply. “Now, I’m gonna give you some very simple instructions. If you do not listen, if you don’t follow them with precision, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” You nodded, frowning slightly.

Anakin very tenderly rested his leathered thumbs over your eyes, gingerly closing them and so, so, so carefully making sure they stayed closed.

“Listen closely.” His voice low and dangerous. “When I tell you it’s okay, I want you to take my mask off.”

“What?” You jolted in shock, this was not what you expected at all, you assumed it would be something much more… raunchy.

“Shut up.” He said sharply. “Quiet, listen to me.”

“Sorry.” You whispered, biting down on your lip and fidgeting with your fingers.

“When I tell you it’s okay, you are going to take off my mask. You’re going to be quiet. You’re not going to talk. You’re not going to hear me talk. You will not move. You will keep the mask in your hands, in your lap, and you will not touch me.” Anakin’s voice was clearly conveying a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes sir.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He dropped his hands immediately and squeaked out the most pitiful unfiltered noise a man could make.

He didn’t hide it when he palmed his cock, he didn’t seem surprised when you moaned after he grabbed your face. He did lean down, eye level to you and lace his free hand’s long fingers with yours.

“Say it again f’me doe.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing length.

“Yes sir.” You repeated in a smaller, less confident voice. You hadn’t expected a reaction like this, you’d meant for it to come out snarky…

“New plan.” He grunted, fisting your hair at the top of your head to pull you into sitting position.

He got down off the bed and grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling out a pretty, pink, silk handkerchief and tossing it at you. Along with a pair of padded pink fabric handcuffs, Velcro, not metal clasps.

“What are you… what’s this?” You asked in surprise, an amused smirk on your lips.

“Well, you know the tape ah- just… oh fuck off.” He huffed folding the handkerchief to make a blindfold and carefully tying it tightly around your head, guiding your arms behind your back.

You heard the loud *skrrrriiip* of the Velcro coming apart, then felt the soft liner enveloping each wrist.

“No gag this time?” You huffed, annoyed that he hadn’t finished his sentence, his explanation.

His belt buckle clanked around and he undid his zipper, guiding you to your knees in front of him. He pried your mouth open and pinched the tip of your tongue between his fingers, pulling it slightly before roughly pushing your head down, forcing his girthy length into your mouth.

“Gag on this.” He grunted, holding your head still while you choked around his fat cockhead, your eyes already beginning to water.

He thrust himself in shallow strokes but made sure to hit the back of your mouth every time as punishment, drool dripping down your bottom lip and onto his weighty balls each time they smacked the underside of your chin.

“I w-was gonna kiss you.” He gritted out, causing you to pull back in an effort to say something, but he forced you back down, fucking into your throat alittle deeper.

“Jesus, just listen damnit.” He barked out at you, tugging your hair. “I was trying to… fuck that feels good- mmph.” A puff of air left his nose and he inhaled through his mouth in a shaky gasp.

“Tryin’ to kiss you, m-make it special and soft.” He grunted. “Tried to get you something alittle nicer than some tape from the junk drawer and an old bandana.”

“Should’ve known better.” He groaned, gritting his teeth while he listened to your labored breathing.

“Bitchy little ungrateful brat.” He spat, thrusting harder after he’d said it just to drive his point home.

“Y-you would’ve still gotten your kiss if you hadn’t of smart mouthed me.” He panted. “Now you’re just gonna get a belly full of cum.”

“When are you going to learn?” He chuckled, looking down at you and red tinted face. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flash and hitting record.

“You were being such a good girl.” He moaned, low and gravely. “Callin’ me sir? Good manners. That was a good job, little doe.”

“Then you you went and screwed it up didn’t you? Hmm?” His condescending tone sent a zap of lighting to your core. “Smart mouthing me like I’d let you get away with it.” He scoffed.

“Apologize to me sweetheart.” He demanded, grabbing you by the neck just beneath your jaw and squeezing when you didn’t answer. “C’mon you know you were bad.”

You breathed out through flared nostrils and blinked away your tears, you spoke as best you could but of course it was hardly more than a few choppy sounds.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk with a full mouth?” He laughed, smacking your cheek gently.

“Oh don’t do that baby.” He cooed, his hips slowing as you tried to wriggle free from your restraints.

“Tell you what…” He pulled up your blind fold and tossed it aside. “let’s play a game.” He grunted. “Just be still for a second okay? Then we’ll talk.” He carded his fingers through your hair and nearly keeled over on the spot when your eyelids fluttered, showing just the whites of your eyes.

He doubled over, accidentally shoving his length farther than he meant to, shooting salty ropes down your throat, a choked moan left his lips as his knees buckled slightly.

“Holy shit- oh fuck…” He panted, doing his best to pull back slowly so as not to hurt you. “Sorry baby.” He mumbled sheepishly, quickly tucking himself back in his boxers.

“You okay?” He breathed out, crouching down and getting on your level after stopping the recording.

“Mhm.” Your lungs felt heavy, coughing from your sore throat. “M’fine.”

“Stand up.” He said firmly, but not in a commanding way, more of a ‘I know what’s best for you please just do it’ way.

You nodded and stood up to face him, waiting for further details but you got none. Anakin spun you around and removed your cuffs, grunting in approval when he saw he’d managed not to mar up your pretty skin on accident with these new bindings.

Then, gentle hands on your shoulders turned you back around. He just stood there and stared at you. You hated when he did that, it was so hard to judge his mood already. But when he was quiet and still? Impossible.

“Do you know what a safe word is?” He asked.

“Yes…” you said, looking off to the side.

“Good. Yours is purple, got it?” He asked, gripping your chin.

“Okay. Safe word is purple.” You nodded, gauging his unmoving form cautiously.

“Put on some pjs.” He said plainly, flipping out his knife, one you hadn’t seen before, just to play with while he waited.

“Is that new?” You asked quietly, trying to make some kind of semi-normal conversation.

“What? This?” He asked, flipping it closed and holding it out to you.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Is it?”

“You noticed.” He said simply, swinging his hand side to side in a gesture for you to take it.

“I’m smarter than I look.” You snorted, taking it from him and carefully opening it.

“We’ll see.” He said in a flat tone, his mood changed slightly now.

“Roses?” You asked, closing the handles back to look at the carved design in black metal with red backing.

“I bought that one just for you. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind it as much if it were pretty.” He said softly, reaching his hand up behind his head to scratch his neck as though he were anxious.

“I- well.” You sighed, stunned by him for the thousandth time. “That’s actually very sweet Ghost.”

You awkwardly handed it back to him, unsure how to navigate this calmer water with him. You gave him a crooked smile and finished getting dressed.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not that. I like that one.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Fine.” You slipped back out of the matching set you had chosen, and tossed it in the drawer without folding it.

“Move.” He grunted, pulling out your bottom drawer and grabbed an old tshirt of Anakin’s and a pair of his loose boxers that you sometimes wore as shorts. “Put them on.”

You scowled, but tried to bite back your words. In some strange way of his own he was being nicer. He was trying. He obviously felt terribly about how he’d scared you into a panic attack, he cared enough to check up on you. You may as well play along.

After getting dressed you put your hands on your hips and faced him squarely.

“Run.”

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Run.” He barked, his voice gritty and dangerous, he stood up to his full height and flicked open his knife again. “Get movin’, go!”

Tag-List:

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THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[rqnvindr]

fountain of tears

pairing: neuvilette x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff/comfort

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: neuvilette finds you standing by the fountain, alone the rain after an argument. his hidden turmoil can only be solved by hearing your voice again, tender, and unfiltered.

warnings: archon quest spoilers, arguments

a/n: I HAVEN'T POSTED ANY WRITING IN AGES BUT I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR MY OTTER HUBBY! enjoy!!

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"this is pointless. i'm out."

your words wound neuvilette, the pain shooting deep into his bones. they ring over and over again in his conscious, louder than any vibration that had ever emanated from his cane to resume order during a trial. he sits in his office trying to work, but his thoughts don't subside, not one bit.

he ponders, staring at the stacks of papers in front of him, documents regarding cases that needed to be reviewed in due time. but not today. the amount of time he had in between today's working hours and the next trial reassured him that he could hyper-fixate on the last thing you said to him before storming out the door.

it's strange that he isn't worried for your safety as much as he is over the feelings rooted in your actions. the chief justice knows that humans are more fragile than those who have lived for eons. those who have experienced centuries of change were capable of adapting to different and unexpected circumstances through changing forms, and bestowing ancient powers of the past that contained the wisdoms and strength needed to guide them. he should be more concerned for where you could've possibly have gone within the last day. but he knows that you are also acquainted with a certain traveler that had recently arrived in fontaine and caused an uproar with the hydro archon in court already, everyone was. there's no way they could've left now, taking you with them on their travels. they still had unanswered questions left for lady furina. it is still a possibility though that you're at least staying with them, since you two were in good graces.

you weren't from fontaine though, and the image of you packing your bags and going home by yourself made him shiver. you did say you were heading "out" after all. he had to consider all of the possibilities.

neuvilette was new to human relationships. how long did it take for humans to draw the line? it varies for everyone, since they are given the freedom to dictate their personal connections to others to a certain degree. but how much was too much for you? when it came to you, he not only wanted to understand humans more, but also just you. he wanted to delve into all of your laughter, all of your worries, all of the sighs that escaped your pretty lips. to grasp it and memorize it all, was his greatest desire.

without you, he would basically lose his purpose for inserting himself into the realm of mortality. you already got him this far, and on top of that, he concluded that you were causing him to feel foreign emotions from removing yourself from his sight. even if it hurt, this was a test included in his journey that he had to endure.

but neuvilette does not want to face the predicament without a resolution. instead of wallowing, he decides to leave his office. he was already working overtime anyway, hoping to just drown in reading the same pages over and over again to keep himself grounded. was he always this sensitive? in his mind, he imagined the beings of the past looking down on him.

it's pouring rain when neuvilette steps outside. ah right. he doesn't need another reminder that his sorrows inconvenience the ordinary citizens of fontaine, who are just trying to make it to work on time, rush their loved ones to the doctor, and just go about their lives without the weather impeding on them. people barely carry umbrellas though, they're all accustomed to this and it's too unpredictable (at least for them it is).

he decides to start backwards, far away from the court of fontaine. he heads to the opera house first, and he finds you on the first try. how could he ever mistake you for someone else? you're the only person he has eyes for. especially when you're standing by the fountain of lucine, and carrying a distinct umbrella in a small crowd of people, most of whom appear to be flocked around the opera house's entrance, probably catching magic shows and other performances.

neuvilette is uneasy when he notices how close you're standing to the fountain. you're inevitably drawn to the grand structure that welcomes audiences from within the borders of the land and beyond to the renowned location. the spectacle that delivers the arts and the law all the same. but beneath its beauty lies danger that erases those who get too close. many fontainians had lost their lives from seeking the wonders of what lay beneath the waters that decorate and surround the hydro region itself. by wanting to delve deeper into it, they subsequently drowned, their lifeforce dissipating into the shackles of the streams. both the knowns and the unknowns of the primordial sea were sufficient reasons to express caution towards the lands waters, even if one was not a native who was subject to becoming one with their origins.

if you were to become the next victim, the rain would proceed to crash down and become one with the fountain in a continuous flow of precipitation. and then fontaine would be known as "the land of storms" rather than "the land of justice".

as he approaches the fountain, neuvilette's desire to pull you away and drag you back to him with no hesitation stirs. yet, it immediately dissipates when you turn your head, and give him what he guesses is a contemplative look. the white-haired man chooses his words carefully. giving you a lecture about the rumored dangers of the fountain's ability to dissolve human beings would only alarm you. he should use the rain as an excuse to find somewhere safer, if you still weren't ready to return to your shared residence.

"it-"

"i know. you're going to ask why i'm standing out here as if it isn't pouring rain." neuvilette barely gets a syllable out before you take the words right out of his mouth. you guys always had a habit of finishing each other's sentences, and even in a moment as anxiety-inducing as trying to make amends when you were mad at him, his heart melts. goodness, why did you have to be so lovely?

"if i were to let the rain impede everything, i guess i'd be a shut-in." you shrug. "it's been raining non-stop for the past couple of days. and no one seems to question it, so i just go along with it as if it's completely normal for it to be bright and sunny one day, and then cloudy and rainy the next day."

when you finish your thoughts, neuvilette still waits for you to continue. he was somewhat relieved that you were able to talk to him normally, but knew that there had to be more you had to say. were you going to officially end things between you two? say that you needed more time to think about the state of your relationship? he wasn't going to talk you out of anything, or start a debate. he respected your decision no matter what, even if it were to sting, he had to hear it. and the conversation had to go somewhere if he also wanted to deliver his side as well.

"i have heard some of the locals say though, that whenever it rains in fontaine, it is because the hydro dragon is crying." you say, as you gaze up at the sky. "i don't know if you have ever heard of it, but if such a tale were to be true, then i wonder what he could be going through for it to be pouring rain every other day."

neuvilette hopes he hid how quickly he blinked. normally he was good at hiding his reactions to hearing this "legend". although he never wanted to hide anything from you, the truth behind the mysterious precipitation was something he hadn't had the best opportunity to tell you about.

"yes, this is an old legend indeed. i often hear parents and caretakers telling this to children, whenever it's too wet to play outside." this was as much as the chief justice could water it down. he really did not want to lie before approaching a sensitive topic.

"as much as i would love to continue hearing the knowledge you have extracted from your time here, i have come here with another objective." neuvilette says. "i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i have also been worried about you for the past few days. you do not have to disclose your whereabouts from the period in which we were apart, but i am happy that you're safe."

"it's alright, really." you reply calmly. "i was also in the wrong for storming out like that and not communicating with you. i was pretty upset, yeah, but i should've just told you that. i'm sorry for being immature and leaving you in the dark."

neuvilette notices tears streaming down your eyes. as your head tilts downward, they drop to the ground and blend in with the rain droplets. instead of offering you his handkerchief, he gently caresses both sides of your face with his gloved hands. you lean into his touch more, until you're wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, letting your umbrella drop to the ground. he reciprocates, stiffly at first, but then holds you with no intentions of letting you go.

you're no longer choking back sobs, and then the sky clears up as the rain comes to a stop. you pull away from the hug to observe the sky, staying connected with your hands intertwined this time.

"wow...the hydro dragon must have been distraught watching us as if we were his new favorite play or something." you laugh.

neuvilette chuckles, knowing that you would of course find the occurrence to be a mere coincidence. "it seems that he must be quite fond of you, my dear."

"well, i'm already taken so i guess he will have to stick to me being his favorite character." you shrug obliviously with a smile.

as your lover, neuvilette has adjusted to being more vulnerable with you. you had seen the good and the bad sides of him, the latter especially during the latest argument that the two of you had now cleared up. and even then, you still let him back in. he doesn't have to worry about baring his entire soul to you now, and will slowly navigate you through his past and identity as the hydro dragon, who entered human society as the iudex. the vulnerable figure whose emotions affect the weather, and struggles to connect with others. you're the one worthy of knowing the truth though, and he makes a promise to himself to never hide anything from you from here on out.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: Milestones

A/N: I was listening to FaceTime with my Mom (Tonight) by Bo Burnham for the entire time while writing this :’)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 2,255

Visual Prompt here!

You’re so screwed.

So, so, so screwed.

Check the second hand on your watch, dodging out the way of passersby, feet practically dancing over the cobbles as you speed-walk toward the restaurant. There’s no way you’re going to make it. Absolutely no way. Gods, you were already marked late last week. One more strike and the consequences will be inflicted on your salary. You really don’t want to have to rely on Azriel to get food in again.

Eyes flit through shop windows mindlessly, hoping the weather will still be relatively temperate after your shift—your hopes are pretty high. The afternoons have been fairly mild recently, the smallest crispness only just beginning to creep in. Frost dusting the leaves, diamond dew-drops glittering in finely spun web.

A flash of white causes you to come to an abrupt halt, backtracking a few steps to peer through the large expanse of glass, the shop name typed out in bold letters across the pane. Contained within the front display are three dresses: pale yellow, white and pale orange, from left to right. Each is held upon a female mannequin torso, the fabric swishing as customers pass by in the background.

The centre dress. It’s lovely. The stitching, the length…the fabric looks like it wouldn’t itch, either.

Shuffle around some mental calculations…size, width, length. All good.

Damn. It looks like it would fit you.

Your watch practically burns into your wrist, searing your skin, urging you to move forward, time ticking away as you stare and stare. Looking at it alone, you know it’ll be pricey…possibly unaffordable, if you get a portion of your wages spliced off. You just have to try it on. Even if it’s utterly out of your price range, you can get to wear it, just to see if it really is as lovely as it looks.

But for now, you’ve got to sprint to work. You’ll just stop by later. Have something to look forward to.

————

You’re in absolutely no condition to try on that dress.

One slightly too-loud word away from crumpling into a pile of tears and washing down a drain, never to be seen again. Left to wallow beneath the city, dissolving into the Sidra.

Velaris is a lovely place to live, but it’s not perfect. Well, its citizens aren’t perfect. Between the male who had insisted his steak wasn’t properly cooked, to the female who sent her food back seven times, to the group of fae who were short on their bill by five gold pieces… Tears well at the memories alone. You got stuck on cleaning up, anyway—punishment for being late. At least your salary will remain untouched for now. The dress still stands a chance.

However, it will have to wait for tomorrow. Cleaning up takes long enough as it is, but having to do it on your own is a whole new level of misery. By the time the chairs are up on the tables, the floor’s been swept and the remaining utensils washed and returned to their rightful places, you’re on the verge of collapsing. Feet aching, wrists aching, head aching. The moment you get home, you’re going to pass out on the welcome mat.

The key clicks in the restaurant lock, finally done with the horrifically long day, and your back slumps, spine aching. What a miserable day.

Footsteps sound behind you, closer than any of those passing by, and you turn. Only to be overshadowed by—

You nearly burst into tears. “Az…” Lips tilt down in the corners, vision blurring as your voice wobbles.

“You were supposed to be home three hours ago,” he says gently, stepping closer, wings flaring to shield you from the partygoers and other currently unwelcome folk. “I thought you might’ve been hit with a long day,” he sighs, arms reaching out, tucking you against him, wings curving round, swallowing you whole.

You whimper as you fall into him, a few tears slipping out as you grip him, pressing into his leathers as his scent encompasses you. Heat warms your bones, sinking into your skin, slowly encouraging your light to start up again. Tears begin to slow, eyes drying as his comfort soothes you out, calming you down from the utterly hellish day. His hand strokes patterns down your back, pressing kisses to the crown of your head, making you want to melt like butter. Melt and splash onto him, soak into his skin so you can always be together.

Sniffing, you step back, wiping your cheeks; drying your eyes as you manage to get a hold of yourself. Azriel’s hands rest atop your shoulders, holding you together while you gather up the strength to do it yourself. “Feeling better now?” He asks, attention solely on you. Head dips in confirmation, though he waits a moment longer before stepping away. “Let’s get home. Then we can get into bed and forget today ever happened.” A sad smile lifts your lips as you look up at him gratefully. “Thanks, Az.”

He shrugs it off, hand swallowing yours as you begin the darkened walk back, faelight illuminating the way. You don’t miss how his shadows dart around you when you reach a slightly unstable part of the cobbles, how his hand tightens on your own. “Want to talk about all the shitty people?” He offers, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “Not really,” you mumble, “I don’t want to give attention to their shittiness.” He nods in the low light, going quiet.

“You know,” he starts slowly, “I think you’re pretty strong for going back there day after day.” You snort. Hand squeezes you, “I’m not joking. Having to interact with that many people, put up with so much bullshit, and keep going back?” He hums quietly, and the tears well again—you turn your head slightly. “Says the Spymaster,” you mumble, “you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“And you don’t see me waitressing,” he counters.

Laughter bursts suddenly from your lungs, blaring through the night air. Tears spill as you laugh, squeezing closer to him, feeling how his wing wraps around you affectionately. “I really love you sometimes, Az,” you half cry, half laugh. You can feel the grin on his mouth as he peers at you, a single brow quirked. “Only sometimes?” You sniff again, praying your nose won’t start running this time. “Okay…all the time,” you relent, “but particularly now. I extra-specially love you.”

He replies with a laugh of his own, making you go all soft and fuzzy inside, heat warming your breastbone as your temperature spikes with pleasure. Hearing him laugh…it makes you happy. Especially when he’s happy from you. That’s the Special Happy—only his kind.

————

“Oh…”

You blink a few times, comprehending the words. It was sold a few days ago.

“Do you know…I mean, will there be another?” You ask, trying not to sound as crestfallen as you feel. The shop assistant shakes her head, curls bouncing as she does so, “I’m afraid not. At least, not that I know of. It was a one-off from the seamstress—she generally doesn’t do dresses like that.”

“Oh…” You repeat.

“I’m sorry you missed it,” she tries to console. “If it helps at all, the male who bought it mentioned it was for his wife—it’ll have a loved home.” You nod weakly. It helps a little. You press your lips together in a tight smile, “thank you anyway, for being so kind about it. You probably didn’t want to have to comfort a moping customer today when you clocked in.”

She smiles gently, “it’s no skin of my back. I hope you’ll find something else at some point.” You nod your head dutifully, then turn, glumly padding out of the shop. Azriel remains where you left him, stood just to the side of the entrance—worried about knocking a mannequin over in the compact shop. “They didn’t have it?” He asks, noting your expression. Shake your head dismally, sighing. “Gods, if I’d been earlier that day I could’ve gone in after work. It might’ve still been there.”

His arm wraps over your shoulders, pulling you into his side while you fall into step beside him. “Oh well,” you murmur, “the female was very nice about it, so that’s something, I suppose. Not a totally awful experience.” Azriel hums in response, squeezing gently. Puff air out from your lips, “anywhere you’d like to go, then?” He thinks for a little, pausing to contemplate the question. As if he hasn’t already made a list ranging from highest to lowest priority of places he’s like to visit today. You know his games quite well.

“What about food? A hungry stomach won’t help with your mood.”

“I asked where you’d like to go. Not where my stomach does,” you reply grumpily. He gives you a pointed look and you sigh. A reluctant smile raising your lips. He’s right.

“Will you at least pick a place you like?” You sigh, leaning into him, taking in his scent. He chuckles at that, already leading you away from the shop, distraction having succeeded.

————

A week later, and the dress still glimmers in the backstreets of your memory.

Eyes have begun checking the store front day after day, just to see if another similar one has been sent over, but—nothing. So far.

So far, you remind yourself. There’ll be other dresses. Other nice things to look forward to. Other things to be happy about. Like your husband having been completely free today. A smile curves you lips as you shuffle through your wardrobe, searching for something nice to wear for him.

Neither of you particularly fancied going out to eat—despite it probably having been easier to do so. But you spend so much time around other people eating, and you’d just be habitually tense the entire evening. Not to mention Azriel wouldn’t find it fun, either. So you’re having a quiet night in, after a loud day out, shared with friends and family alike.

He knocks on your door, stepping in soon after. “Looking for something to wear?” He asks, a lilt to his voice. You roll your eyes, smiling none the less, “how’d you know? And you didn’t wait for my answer. I could’ve been changing.” Tongue flicks out to wet his lips, eyes latched upon your own. Heat warms your cheeks, shaking your head, grinning to yourself.

Azriel walks over, large hands settling at your waist, gently turning you to face him. Lowers his mouth over yours, lips slanting together. You’re surprised at first, caught off guard by the soft display of affection, but then you melt into it, hands cupping his jaw, his own keeping you close against his chest. Pull away to look at one another. “What was that for?” You whisper hoarsely, peering up into gentle hazel eyes.

Lips curve, turning you around to face the bed. A cream box laying atop the neatly made duvet, pretty bow tied atop it. “For me?” You ask, looking up at him, head tilting back against his chest. He nods, gentle pushing you forward, “have a look.”

Smiling, you raise the lid from the box, feeling his gaze warming your skin.

Blink.

White fabric…

Eyes lock on hazel, mischievous and adoring.

Turn back to the gift.

Swallowing, shaky fingers dip into the box, latching on the familiar fabric. Stand from the bed, allowing the dress to unfold in front of you, held up by the seams atop the sleeves. It’s the dress.

Your dress.

Lower it slowly, eyes heating as they connect with his, softened with affection. “You…” Azriel nods gently, expression shifting to something a little vulnerable. “I hope you like it.”

The tears start before you have the chance to even try to stop them, lip wobbling as you set the dress down on the bed, hurrying over. Arms wrap around him, burying your head in his chest, willing your eyes to dry. Hands settle against you, stroking your hair, tracing circles over your back, laughing quietly. Keeping you safe in the quiet of your bedroom.

“You like it?” He asks, making sure he’s gotten it right. He could never get it wrong, but you nod anyway. “I love you and hate you so much right now,” you mumble, sniffing. Pulling away a little—enough to peer up at him. “What have I done to earn your hate?” He smiles, hand still stroking your hair. “How am I ever supposed to top this for you?” You murmur, fingers gripping him tighter. “You’ve set the standard so high, how am I ever supposed to match it?”

Azriel laughs, shaking his head, “go put it on for me, and you’ll have done so.”

You doubt it, but follow his instructions anyway, changing out of your day clothes, shifting into the dress. Soft and gentle on your skin, fitting comfortably, not too heavy; not too light. Utterly perfect. Lip wobbles again as you arrange the fabric to sit how you want, turning to look at him, waiting his opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think I pity everyone who’ll never get to see you like this,” he murmurs, silently walking forward, stopping when his feet are either side your own. “And I think I’m the luckiest male alive because I’m the first you chose to show.” Cups your jaw, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Pulls away to look at you, smiling adoringly.

“Happy Birthday.”

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

[tlkfaerie]

Ribbons ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: Finan x reader

a/n: Response to a lovely request! My first request, actually! Finally doing a solo Finan piece :) A bit soppier than I had originally planned, but I love it and I love Finan soooooo. Also the circumstance / sequence of events aren't entirely accurately in line with the events of the show but we move.

MDNI!18+ : TW finan x reader, dom!finan, virgin!reader, virginity loss, manhandling, kissing, very brief mentions of loss, fingering, p in v sex, confessions of love, slight breeding!kink

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

Things were tense when the men staggered back to the stronghold. They had won their latest battle involving Mercia and Bloodhair, though at the cost of a disastrous curse upon Uhtred's family. You selfishly prayed for Finan's safety, despite the two of you not being together. You were great friends, and though the others were familiar to you too, it was Finan that you truly wished to return in one piece.

You spent your time at home praying for the souls of those who had been lost, thinking about the wise words that Hild so graciously bestowed on you. You felt her absence more than ever, needing her sweet guidance, but aware that she was already spread thin. Everyone was.

As winter crept into your home, you wallowed slightly, missing everyone. But you had a duty, an alehouse to run. It was where you had met everyone originally, and had turned into somewhat of a cornucopia for Coccham. You knew that in order to keep spirits high, you'd have to open it up and welcome everyone in. Your hearth was where you had first met Finan, sitting with Uhtred as the two of them laughed. Hild had introduced you, and your speechlessness was the source of several laughs.

You had sat with them on the table that night, laughing with Hild, who you truly saw as your aspiration. Uhtred noticed this, joking about how you reminded him of his children, which had made you huff slightly. You were embarrassed of this, but Finan assured you that you were alright, muttering some joke about how you clearly had the spirit of a warrior within you to deal with these drunken men.

It had been a slow night, but you would rejoin them when you could, smiling at Finan every now and then. Finan's eyes had scrunched up too, but his lingering look had you blushing all throughout the night. From then on, the warriors had frequented your place. You and Finan would often sit and chat. He loved that he could talk to you. For once, it was not about war, or combat, or blasted shield walls. He was sick to death of hearing the names Alfred or Edward, and you gave him peace from all of that.

It filled you with warmth to see everyone so carefree and jolly, especially as it was your father's wish when he opened the alehouse to make an honest place of it. Every now and then, a regular face would vanish, and you felt it like a sting in your core, but you carried on nevertheless.

You lived just above the alehouse, walking down the steep wooden steps as you tried to alleviate your chill. Nothing seemed to work. Lighting candles and preparing some food for the hungry travellers that would arrive soon. You had heard news that the travelling party were returning from Winchester within the next few hours, feeling sadness at the inevitable loss and pain that would be felt all through the town, but also the deep, hidden feelings of desire that you so heavily pushed to one side.

Every time you saw Finan leave, you felt a tinge of regret within you. After all, he was Uhtred's right hand man by all accounts, and great responsibilities were often given to him. What if he were to never return? You supposed it was silly to think more of your confessions being told than him returning with his life, but you were sick of pushing down these feelings. You felt like some sort of angel when his gaze fell on you, which it did, often. And when he would come in for a final glass of ale, though what you didn't know is that he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to you.

He had seemed grave when you saw him last, trying to keep smiling at you but looking away darkly every now and then. You, none the wiser, had given him a cheerful departure, promising a full meal for him and his friends upon his return. You had assured him that the plate would be waiting for him, only if he came home in one piece. The gesture was halfhearted, though to him it was a challenge. He had left beside Uhtred, meditating upon his horse about you.

You.

Finan really, really loved you. He was always incredibly outgoing, and so you assumed he would just wed someone more like him, but Finan dreamed of you almost every night. It tortured him that he was so quick with his words, and yet they seemed to disappear from him whenever he saw you. Your plump lips, your wide eyes, full of life and unsoiled by the rot of death. You were the exact opposite of what he encountered on his missions and tasks, and though he loved his life alongside his trusted Lord, he wanted something to do it all for. And that something was you. He would make sure of that.

As both of your feelings nearly spilled over each other, it was time for someone to do something.

It seemed like you had wasted your whole day, silently waiting for the evening to come, when finally, you heard some commotion - your heart sent flashes of longing through you. You felt somewhat pathetic, watching the door of your alehouse for that specific person to come through. But, when you know, you know.

Suddenly, a stream of townsfolk walked in. Some came holding hands, some even came with their children, which you didn't mind, offering them some meat pies and ruffling their hairs. You spoke with some of the women, delighted to have their husbands back and eager to get you away to spend time with them soon. You joked about being stuck behind the brewery, handing out copious pints of ale. Within the next twenty minutes, your hands were so sticky that you started flapping them furiously.

Finally, you made your way outside, wanting to do a round of everyone sitting on the benches. There, you found Finan and Osferth. Sihtric was over in the corner, with his wife, the two of them beckoning you towards them.

Giving them quick greetings, you drunk in some of the news from Sihtric, who informed you that Uhtred was still in Winchester for some time with Hild, and that he had suffered a great loss. Your head bowed at that, not wanting or needing to know any more. You wished the both of them and their children well, before granting a weak smile to the two men now before you.

Osferth gave a weak smile, fondly remembering happier times in the alehouse and wishing he could match his previous energy. You hugged him tightly, knowing he was more sensitive and newer to the trade of being a warrior, though you didn't expect him to hold on so tightly to you. You sunk into his unfamiliar embrace for a moment, before Osferth pulled away.

And there he was. Finan. You had never seen him looking more tired, slightly long hair giving him a dishevelled look. Though equally, he was beautiful. No amount of sadness could take away the kind, observant look in his eyes. He seemed to be in his own world, and you didn't want to disturb, but then he looked at you, and the faintest smile stretched onto his lips.

You wanted Finan to hold you. You wanted his warm embrace then and there, but something told you it would take a little more time. His brows are furrowed and a strong wrinkle emerges between them, telling you that he is far from relaxed. You gulp slightly, the promise of a meal still hanging in the air.

With a hand still on Osferth's shoulder, you said nothing as you gave him an empathetic nod, tilting your head and smiling as best as you could. Your chest filled with relief when his little wrinkle disappeared. The shadows lifted just slightly, and there he was. He understood you somehow, an unspoken look flittering between you, and then you were gone.

There was so much you wanted to talk to Finan about. You ached to have your friend back, even if that dynamic did pain you. He still came to the tavern, even when Uhtred returned, though he was unusually silent as weeks flew by. Even as things picked up and spirits were back to normal, Finan seemed to be stuck somehow.

You entertained mostly Uhtred and Sihtric most nights, helping them heal ever so slightly with perhaps a little too much ale. You had even begun watering it down less, which did not go unnoticed by them. You prayed with Osferth too, mostly to keep him company.

It wasn't until a whole month had passed that you could no longer take it. Finan's usual loud voice could no longer be something of the past. You needed to tell him how you felt. You knew that you had to do something tonight.

You spent far too long in the mirror during the hour before you would open. You knew it would be a busy night, as the snow had finally ceased, and people were no longer cooped up in their homes. They would want warm drink and entertainment, and you would give them just that.

"Come on, Y/N." You nudged yourself, looping two ribbons into the two braids that you had meticulously gathered with your unruly hair, pinching your cheeks before letting out a slight laugh. You hadn't realised just how much you truly valued Finan's entire personality until it changed whenever you came near. Surely freshening up a bit would impress him?

Meanwhile, as though he was mirroring you, Finan ran his hands through his hair, sitting patiently in his own company. He had been surrounded by his loud companions all day, laughing and working, enjoying any semblance of peace that he could. The Irishman thought of nothing but you, however, and felt that if he did not do something soon he would combust into a million pieces.

Truthfully, after his last visit to Mercia, he had pulled back from you slightly. He needed you so deeply, but couldn't bear the thought of making you wait around for him, worrying if he would come home or not. There was also the additional danger of his weapons everywhere, his being at Uhtred's side constantly, and the threat of having something so precious to him be so targeted. He wanted you more than he wanted to breathe.

After that first day where you had been babbling to Hild in your alehouse, he was stunned. He was in awe of how you ran the place, even with the death of your father, never allowing anyone to step on your toes, even though he would have been more than willing to help. He admired your trust in things, never fearing of the worst, unlike he had. Since his days on the ship, all he had craved was something, anything, to come home to.

Nothing had filled that space until he saw you prancing around the alehouse, clumsily spilling drinks and shaking your sticky hands in his face to annoy him, your loud laughter echoing in his mind even now as he had tried to pull you into the mess you had made.

The memory shone in his mind, so prominent that he quite literally couldn't think straight. He didn't want to be absent towards you now, but his very existence intermingling with yours was a threat to your life, and perhaps your happiness. Could he do that to you?

As the tavern bustled into life, you couldn't stop fiddling with your braids. Some of your friends had offered to touch them up, which only worried you more, but they teased you still, pinching your cheek when you had confessed to them what you were going to do tonight.

You would your hands into the handles of at least ten cups, delivering them to the table of several hefty warriors who barely fit on your stools, making a mental note to get some warrior-friendly seating arranged.

"Here you are boys," you greeted them lightly, recognising a few, particularly Uhtred, who looked like he had seen better days. His hair was loose, strewn all over his face, but a smile graced his face, which reassured you.

"You might want to slow down, Lord," you teased, anticipating his reaction. He cocked his brow, piercing blue eyes observing you graciously. "Y/N, you're too good to me. Too good." He raised a glass to you, and you playfully rolled your eyes, a renewed sense of confidence overtaking you.

As you were about to turn around, you collided with hard leathers, belonging to a very firm chest. Towering above you was Finan. You quickly fiddled with your braid, hoping he would be enticed by them. So stupid, you thought to yourself.

"Have you forgotten what incredibly handsome men look like, or are you just surprised to see me?" said Finan, voice just above a whisper. Your eyes widened at his question, hand coming up to slap his bare arms. He hadn't been this perky in a while, and it shocked you, to say the least. You were happy to see him back to normal. Though he always carried an air of dominance with him, the softer side of him was always welcome.

There was a strange determination in his eyes, as if he had woken up. "Trust me, with you in front of me every day, I could hardly forget what a handsome man looks like." Your emboldened state of mind matched his newfound confidence, and the two of you were back to being the same people that you were when you first met. Finan forgot, just for a second, about the reek of death and its hanging in the air.

Instead, he took you in. Your fresh braids, which he suspected you had done just for him. He felt so warm, even in the bitter winter, and your eyes gazing at him as though he was the kindest man on earth brought him more security than anything else in the world.

His presence alone was enormous. You had to shake your head to remember what you were really here to say to him. He had laughed at your previous remark, taking the confident proudly.

"You look so beautiful, Y/N." he stated fondly, content to spend the rest of the night with you. Your cheeks heated at his words, and you looked away, but not before his strong hands found your chin, raising your face to meet his brown eyes once more. He simply could not wait any longer.

"You always look beautiful, and I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you aren't", he huffed, acknowledging his own mental absence. You felt the tenderness in his touch, against the rough scarring on his hands. You smiled sadly, wishing he didn't have to be treated so roughly. Your softer hands found his, holding them tightly.

"I suppose I sh-" but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a loud crash. You were quick to inspect the commotion, not realising that the two of you were still firmly holding hands. It hadn't occurred to you until his grip tightened, dwarfing your entire hand in his. You couldn't help but smile, especially when you discovered what the scene before you was all about.

Two women were having at it, fighting like animals. These were women you knew, and so you were shocked to see them go at one another, enough even to draw blood. You considered for a moment why two familiar faces would be fighting, but the two had recently mentioned their escapades with Osferth, who was a babbling mess at the scene before him.

Finan cursed. Truly, he couldn't help but laugh. Of course, this stupid baby monk would intervene in some way, he thought to himself. You giggled at Osferth's expression as the women were finally separated by Finan, who begrudgingly let go of your hand. He felt so juvenile, clinging to you like a crush, but he simply couldn't help himself.

"Umm, I thought monks weren't allowed to hump," was all he said, before leaving the poor boy to defend for himself, returning to you. As he walked over, you felt the life reemerge within him. He was smiling so much you almost couldn't take it.

"Now that's a hero," you laughed as he spread his arms out, congratulating himself. You couldn't keep yourself from moving about, however, unable to stay still in his presence. Your mind constantly filtered through possibilities of what he was about to tell you, meanwhile your own looming confession was being stuffed further and further back in your mouth. You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say to you. Perhaps he was going to tell you to stay away from him . . .

Any suspicions of his rejection, however, were entirely forgotten when both of his hands came to cup your face. The act felt so intimate that your legs almost quivered, and you braced yourself to fall over. His head leaned back slightly, and he breathed heavily, taking you in. Finan, filled with confidence, had bee brought to his knees by you. You and your ribbon braids.

"Can we talk somewhere, please. Perhaps when it's a little less busy, lady?" you understood, but couldn't help the frustration that grew within you as your conversation was prolonged yet again. You simply nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough for him, judging by his widening eyes.

"After closing, Finan, come up the stairs, I'll be in my room." You hadn't realised just how suggestive that sounded until Finan's eyes widened even more, and he cocked his head with a cheeky grin, retorting something about you being more forward than ever. You slapped his chest, mocking his childishness, though before you could fully manage to hit him, he grabbed your wrist with ease.

His arm flexed, and he quickly pulled you in, your feet stumbling to keep up with his strength, until you felt his breath on your face, and you were close enough to be touching his lips.

"Quite the invitation, lady," he half joked, but in reality, he as already counting down the hours. "I will be there, Y/N."

After what felt like the longest night in history, the last of the crowd finally retreated from the alehouse. You were itching to see Finan. Since the two of you last spoke, you had barely seen him. Uhtred was shamefully taken home by Sihtric, who you were amazed was sober. The rest of the men and women left together, and you said your final goodbyes, closing the doors. This time, however, you didn't lock them.

You trudged upstairs, tiredness hitting your body. After hours, you finally took a seat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the silly plaits that you had worried so much over. You sensed Finan's presence when there was a slight moan of old wood being pressed as he walked up to meet you. You had so much to say to him you could hardly contain yourself, rising from your sitting position.

Finan gave a polite knock, but didn't bother waiting, bending under the doorframe before returning to his natural state, giving you an incredibly sheepish look. You stuttered slightly, but told him to sit. You quickly realised that a man had never been up to your room. It was spacious enough, with a large bed of furs and enough space for plenty of candlelight.

"Please, sit, Finan." you held your hand out as if to show him the way, guiding yourself to the edge of your bed. Finan let out a small laugh at your sudden formality, bending as if giving you a mocking bow before sitting next to you.

Even though he had been the one to initiate conversation last time, you made it your mission to get there before him, wanting to get your own point across before he said anything to you.

"Finan, I have to tell you," you started, feeling an awful mist of tension heating up your body suddenly, " I just - I hate," you sighed in frustration, groaning as you could hardly get the words out. Finan seemed heavily amused, beckoning you to continue.

"I just really enjoy when you're here." Pathetic. "And I don't like it when you're gone away for weeks. And I worry for you when you're not here, even though I have faith in you."

Once you break the seal, you can hardly stop. Finan takes in every word as though it is gospel, but you hardly notice as you babble on.

"Obviously you're strong, and umm, and handsome, and you speak well enough to get yourself out of trouble,"

"Oh, do keep going, lady. I've never been so flattered." he raised a hand to his chest, feigning shyness. You glared at him, embarrassment curling itself around your neck, blocking any clear thought from entering your head. Finan quickly sensed your frustration, placing a hand on your thigh to steady you.

But that just made it worse.

"And then I think we're good, but you don't speak to me f-for weeks, Finan. And then you touch my thigh like this!" You could almost laugh at yourself, truly, "and I just want you all of the time, and I think we . . . I think we should be together."

With your final declaration out of the way, you feel a fatal sense of worry overcome your body at his shocked face. The hand on your thigh doesn't move, however. It tightens.

"Y/N," he starts, and you brace yourself for the worst, "Please, I want to be with you too. I stayed distant, because, well because I didn't want anything to happen to you. If I am with you, then I'll have something to actually fight for," he looked down as he continued, clearly stressed, "but then if I have something to fight for I'll have something to lose as well."

You began to understand him clearly. With what he had seen, particularly with recent events, there was always a risk involved. Perhaps what made him so good is that everything he previously needed to protect was always on the battlefield with him. The two of you together would be a constant source of worry for him. You could be kidnapped, taken hostage, injured while he was away.

"But, Finan, every time you've left, nothing has happened to me. I'm here, aren't I? Entirely whole."

"But it's different, or, it would be different," he stressed, hands flying up as he spoke.

"The only difference is I'd be yours. And I want to be yours, Finan."

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. His hand ran through his beard, and any semblance of composure that he had snapped when you bit your lip. Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps he was thinking about things too deeply. After all, he was an entirely competent warrior. If anything happened, he would be able to solve it.

He could barely control himself any longer, when your hand came to fiddle with the ribbons weaved into your loosening braids. You had never looked more innocent and enticing - he physically couldn't stand what you were doing to him.

Meanwhile, you took note of his chest heaving, feeling your own heartbeat gain speed. You decided to let even more out, noticing his gaze shifting to your hair.

"I plaited these for you, I thought they would impress you." The sheepish truth had you looking down, realising that the two of you had been stupidly restricting one another whilst simultaneously trying to impress one another in a hideously drawn out back and forth. Sorrows had settled, and now you wanted him. You needed Finan.

"They do impress me, most definitely," he assured you, teasing you slightly with his reaction. He found you utterly adorable, that you had done some little change to please him, "but you already caught my attention without the ribbons, Y/N."

The cross around his neck gleamed as it dangled, moving slightly as he leaned down to meet your face as you sat beneath him on the bed. The tenderness of the moment had been replaced by burning passion.

"Finan, I-"

"Say my name again."

"Finan-" You couldn't even finish before his lips crashed into yours. Everything melted away when you kissed. Every semblance of a problem disappeared, and it was just you and Finan. He revelled in the idea that you were his woman, spoiling himself with the very thought of it.

You, meanwhile, were growing incredibly impatient. The man in front of you was something else, his muscles straining as his hands trailed down to your waist and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his strong waist, arousal beginning to leak from within you as his grip tightened. He couldn't get enough of you, and he never wanted to let you go.

"I hope you know, love, that I'm keeping you forever." He smiled, adjusting you a little so that you felt the bulge of his crotch just underneath your sex, friction causing you to whine slightly. You weren't entirely sure if Finan was aware that you were a virgin, but the feeling of his body against yours prevented you from saying anything.

"Let me hear you." he demanded as he looked up at you, and thought he was still the Finan you knew, an air of seriousness had overcome him, and the words that came from him were dominating. You understood now how he managed to control armies the way he did.

You buried your head between his neck and shoulder, drooling slightly as you let out a moan at Finan's undying strength. With your undergarments pulled to the side by the stretch of his fingers, he made sure to move you up and down ever so slowly, rubbing against his crotch even more until your naked sex could take it no more.

The fabric of his trousers was an obstacle that you needed to be removed as soon as possible. Though the friction created waves of pleasure, the way he was holding you had you panting for more.

"Please, Finan, take them off." you looked into his eyes, which held an amused stare. He took your worn out image in, unable to believe how lucky he was. Any negative thought about the relationship between you two could be dealt with later, right now he had you securely in his arms, entirely fucked out without him even properly touching you yet.

You fastened your legs around his waist, which made him laugh. "You're telling me what to do now, is it?" truthfully, he would let you do or say anything you wanted. He was wrapped around your little fingers, and he knew it well.

"Love, I can't do what you ask if you continue to cling to me like a pup," he wore a toothy grin on his face, amusement growing in time with your own frustration. You loosened your thighs from his hold, and he set you down gently on your own bed. You fidgeted when you realised what would happen once his trousers were off, if you even managed to wait that long.

You watched him undo his breeches, only to around halfway, not even letting them slide down his legs before he came to you again. You leaned your head into his arm, nuzzling instinctively into his hold like some trained animal. You felt you would burst, declaring "I love you," before he could say anything else.

"I love you too, you and your ribbons." he flicked your braid with his finger, drawing you in to a loving kiss. You were slightly stunned at his lack of hesitation, any precaution having been abandoned by him. Finan felt it as well, the swell of pride that filled him as he announced his love for you, not even questioning the words. He knew them to be true, and he knew that with you as his woman, he was entirely complete.

Your next words, however, did catch him off guard.

"I've never been with a man, Finan." you confessed, maintaining eye contact with him as you waited for his reaction, worrying that he would be less eager to bed you with your inexperience. Finan tried to fight the impure thoughts as they wavered in his brain, unable to keep his hands off you as he thought of a way to reassure you without sounding too patronising, as he usually managed.

When he still didn't say anything, it prompted you to finally look away from him, wondering if he really cared about it as much as you thought.

"Hey, where's my lady gone?" he moved to sit beside you, feeling somewhat of a fool that his bulge was straining against the half of his breeches that still hung from his hips, and you with your dress bunched up so high that all he could think about were the stockings slipping down your delicate thighs. You didn't have the faintest idea of the impact you had on him right now.

He wasn't entirely sure how much more restraint he could exercise. "I don't care about that, I want to be the only man that ever gets to touch you from now on, anyway." he buffed his chest to try and make you laugh, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing, too engrossed in lulling over the words he had just uttered.

"I want to be your only woman, Finan." and with that, you kissed him forcefully, adjusting your body so that you could straddle his frame, his heavy arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you further into his kiss. His hands moved down to your ass, squeezing firmly. Your mouth remained open when he allowed them to slip further down your thigh, toying with the hem of one of your stockings. They were cheap things, made for you with the purpose of convenience, and yet he was treating them like they were pure gold.

"I don't think I'll be sharing you with anyone anytime soon, love," he managed to whisper into your ear, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly when he inserted two fingers into you, the promise of 'getting you ready for him' hanging in the air. The feeling was unlike anything you had experience, a welcome intrusion to your core. You felt his fingers curl, pushing up as far as they could go, meanwhile his thumb also occupied a space on your clit, rubbing ever so gently whenever he could to bring you pleasure.

You felt your thigh muscles trembling as you still straddled him on your knees, his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing your neck, creating his own little mark on you. Finan knew he was possessive. He had to remind himself to be gentle with you, however, removing his fingers and inserting them again, wanting to tease you slightly.

You gave a quick tug to his thick hair in retaliation, which he seemed to like as he groaned and leaned back in order to see your face. You couldn't help a satisfied grin, otherwise looking rather empty as you thought of nothing but pleasure.

"Careful there," he said, returning his attention to kissing your neck, marking it with a slight bite. His warm lips on your skin affected you in ways you hadn't thought possible. You wondered why he hadn't put his fingers back inside of you, but you felt him fidget beneath you, until his cock was fully out, brushing back and forth against your sex. The two sensations together, of his lips and his cock, very nearly sent you over the edge embarrassingly soon.

The ghost of pleasure kept pulsating at your core, his hand moving his cock back and forth ever so slowly, sometimes seeming as though he was about to slip in and then releasing altogether from you. You hated it, the absence and the longing, playing tricks with your mind and turning you into some kind of depraved whore.

"Finan, I swear-"

"You swear what, lady?" he taunted you, still not close enough as his arm adjusted its claim around your waist, your breasts squishing into his own chest as you practically kneeled over the top of him, wanting to push him down to finish the job yourself.

"If you don't hump me soon, I will personally ban you from this very alehouse." shocked at your own feistiness, you hadn't imagined Finan to take your word so literally. Before you knew it, your back hit your bed of furs, and Finan now kneeled above you, playing with himself, tugging back and forth, his hard cock so prominent you felt it would break you.

And break you it did. His tip finally breached your walls, before his entire member felt your insides. Your core was so full, so unbelievably full. The pressure seemed to build before he even began to move, and you released several short pants, biting back a moan that he seemed to want to encourage out of you as he moved his hips just slightly, his muscled core meeting your soft, pliable thighs, now up in the air, hanging from his grip.

You were entirely at his mercy, so pliant for him, and so good for him. "I hadn't expected you to listen well, and you proved me right," he started, moving in and out once, so tantalisingly slowly that you felt every curve, vein and pulse going through him, "I told you to be careful, didn't I sweet girl?"

Though he was teasing, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't move until your face lost the scrunch and your eyes opened to look at him, heavy breathing turning into moans as your impatience move.

"Move, Finan." And that was all he needed to hear, moving in and out of you with some force, his hands clamping into the soft flesh of your thighs, still admiring the stockings that you wore, reminding himself to ask you to wear them more often.

Your lips fell open in a gasp when he sped up even more, soft 'good girls' coming from his lips in murmurs. He let go of one of your thighs, letting your leg fall to the bed, while his free hand now moved to your stomach, pressing down on your core and feeling exactly where he was inside of you. He pumped so rhythmically that you began to think you'd truly reached heaven, the additional pressure applied by his strong hands becoming too much for you.

He watched your face, assessing you to ensure you were still comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way. You felt funny, a strange tingling, almost like a warning, reaching your core.

"F-Finan, I think . . ."

He shushed you, understanding what you meant. Who was he to deny such a lovely maiden what she wanted? "Just breathe, Y/N, don't fight it, sweet girl," he guided you, the pressure of his hand increasing. He maintained his pace, feeling your walls tighten and squeeze around him, clamping so hard he struggled to keep up.

"Come on, there we are," he further encouraged, and normally, you'd tell him to shut up, his words embarrassing you slightly, but you were so filled with delicate pleasure that you couldn't risk losing it. The immense pinch in your core finally snapped, and you were coming around him, pumping him for all he was worth as your arousal came to its peak. Your face made him positively weak at the knees.

"There we go," he cooed, his hand coming to your clit to stimulate you more, though you began begging him not to, trying and failing to grab his wrist in the process. You bit your lip instead, eyes all glossy and strained as you looked at your lover as though he was God. Perhaps he was, because no mortal man should have been able to make you feel so good.

"Please come, Finan." you whined sweetly, and he could never deny you as he had done before. He would listen to you if you told him to do anything, let alone come, which he did gladly, pumping you full of his seed, thinking briefly about the pups you could share. The pups that you would share.

His heart pumped ten times as fast as he bred you, vowing to be the only man to touch you ever again. His possessiveness had seemed to grow in the last hour, and he lifted you suddenly onto his lap, caressing the top of your head as you panted in unison.

"We'll speak properly tomorrow," he began, stroking your now undone hair. Your ribbon barely hung on, and you wound it around his fingers, the fabric reminding him of your sweet confession, something that he knew he would tease you about for years to come, but secretly loved, "sleep for now, love."

He stayed awake for most of the night, observing you every now and then, mostly focusing on the sway of the candlelight. He had seen his lord go through so much, and now he had something too precious to lose, he vowed that the same would not happen to him. Even if it cost him his loyalty.

[rae-writes]

surprise!

bsd boys x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : maybe ooc Jouno- I haven’t seen much of his character yet but I still adore hims

synopsis : welcome back

a/n : I wrote this entire thing in one sitting. No I can’t believe it either. 

part 2 

Jouno 

You were out with a few friends that day, trying to get out more since your boyfriend was still gone on his 3-month long mission 

It was actually a really fun day; you all had just stepped out of a restaurant when— 

“They’re back! Look everyone! The Hunting Dogs have returned!” 

Naturally, everyone in the vicinity snapped their heads towards the group in red, watching them walk side by side and chat leisurely as they came home. 

Fighting your way through a small crowd, much to the confusion of your friends, you frantically scan the men in search for one person. 

“Y/n, what’re you- Y/n!” 

You’d broke out in a sprint, not bothering to even slow down before you jumped into his arms, locking your legs around his waist, “SAIGIKU!” 

And despite his cynical nature, even Jouno had trouble hiding the smile that wanted to break loose at your obvious thrill of seeing him again. 

Murmurs filled the area, especially within the hunting dogs, who were absolutely baffled at the display. 

“Hello, my love. Miss me?” Jouno chuckled at your weak attempt to hit his shoulder, cheerfully bouncing you in his arms like a toddler, “No need to be like that, now, I’m only teasing.” 

Huffing, you smile against your will, swiping his hat off his head and putting it on your own, “You are the literal worst.” 

“You’re going to kiss me anyway.” He tipped the brim of his hat, effectively making it fall past your eyes. 

“Unfortunately, you’re correct about that.” 

Hearing your friends cheer as you finally got to kiss his stupid mouth again made you break away with a laugh— much too soon for his liking, though he wasn’t complaining at getting to feel your smile against his lips after so long. 

Chuuya

Your red-headed boyfriend had been sent overseas for six months to handle something for Mori 

Currently, you were dressed in one of his button ups and a pair of his boxers while you cleaned up (cause what else did you have to do anyway?) 

The sound of a door opening made you grab the gun he kept there for your protection, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be back for another 2 weeks…

“I come home early to surprise my lovely partner after being away for so long and this is what I get?” 

You drop the gun in shock, staring at Chuuya like he was a ghost. The red aura around him fades and he catches the falling bullet you’d just shot at him casually. 

“Can’t be mad, though, at least I know you can protect yourself, yeah?” He laughs loudly at your rushed ‘I’msosorryohmygods’ and easily picks you up, “Don’t worry, doll. Didn’t even leave a scratch. Love the outfit, by the way, where on earth did you get it?” 

You give him a disbelieving smile, hands cradling his face softly, “I can’t believe I just shot at this pretty face,” you pout and pepper kisses everywhere, not stopping until the apples of his cheeks are practically glowing. 

“H-hey—!” Chuuya’s cut off by a real kiss, staggering slightly when his knees almost give out at the sensation. 

“Missed you s’much pretty boy. Was lonely without you.” 

His mouth tugs into a frown, reaching up to grasp your hand tightly and place a kiss on the back of it, “I’m sor-“ 

You interrupted with another kiss, “It’s okay, Chuu, I know it’s your job. Though next time I might be inclined to bully Mori into letting me come too.”

Chuuya let out another laugh, already imagining the scene, “I’d love to see it. Let’s both just stay here for a while, okay?” 

Dazai

He threw an actual fit when you had to go on a three week mission with a few of the others and refused to do any work since

His mood was a real bummer around the agency (though Atsushi tried his best to cheer him up everyday) 

While wallowing in self pity, though, it seems like he lost track of time 

“Dazai-saaaan!” Atsushi sounded like he’d just won the lottery, “I have something that’ll make you feel better!” 

Dazai did nothing but silently wave off the boy, grateful at the offer but feeling more miserable at the same time. 

“I mean, I can just go back if you don’t want me.” You watched him bolt up from his chair with amusement, opening your arms widely, “Come on then.” 

With no regard for height differences or his body weight, Dazai jumped at you, not even noticing how hard he smacked against the floor, “Belladonna! You’ve come back to me! I’m saved!” 

Despite his theatrics, you noticed his trembling and labored breathing, “Osamu,” you cooed sweetly, rubbing the crown of his head where he’d bumped it when you both fell down. 

He nuzzled deeper into your touch, whining when you moved to sit up. 

“Oh, you big baby-“ you cradled him once more, realizing you probably wouldn’t be able to get off the floor for a while. 

“Your big baby,” Dazai mumbled grumpily, invading all of your space until he was practically sitting in your lap, “I missed you.” 

The gentle smile on your face nearly sent him to the moon, “missed you too, ‘Samu.” And the soft kiss you gave him almost sent him into an early- happy - grave, “I love you.”

Fyodor

While you were not an actual member of the Decay of Angels, by proxy as Fyodor’s partner, you were basically an honorary member

Meaning you could lounge around base and go to meetings as much as you liked— the latter of which you were on your way to after discovering your boyfriend had just gotten back from his five week absence 

and no one told you. 

The doors slammed open, sending Sigma nearly 10 feet into the air, and making everyone else crane their heads around. 

Sending an apologetic look to the two-tone haired man, you continued on like you owned the place. 

Nikolai jumped up, ready to begin his usual antics, when you swiftly snatched his hat and swatted him upside the head with it, sending him dramatically reeling back into his chair. 

Your boyfriend watched in amusement, raising an eyebrow when you stopped just short of his reach, “Milaya.” 

“I don’t like you.” 

Many of the members choked on air at the clear disdain in your voice, not believing that someone was talking to Fyodor like that. 

“Is that so?” 

You pouted, making your bottom lip tremble for a little more flair, “Yes.” 

And despite knowing you were simply messing with him, he still didn’t like the glassy look in your eyes, “Come.” 

A bright smile quickly replaced the pout and you happily clamored in his lap, “You’re so mean to me, Fedya. Nik got to see you before me!” 

Fyodor chuckled, petting your head calmly, “Now, now.” His eyes twinkled when you basically purred at the affection, “None of that nonsense.” 

You kissed the corner of his mouth in retaliation, settling down in your rightful spot, “I’m going with you next time.” 

“You are?” 

“I am.”

[fangsyouverymuch01]

Just friends

Summery: The hero of Baldur's Gate greatest battlefield is now drunkenly returning home from the tavern because your connection to the arcane world is dying, and it has been for months. Adding to it, is your unresolved feelings from a certain vampire you've sworn to forget.

Rolan and Lia, aiding you in your search for answers, are determined to divert your mind from troubles. Unbeknownst to you, this night is destined to change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav, Astarion x f!reader , Rolan x reader

Warnings: Fightning, sort of depressed reader, drinking, Astarion being a prick

Tags: Slow burn, friends to lovers

Note: This took way too long to write, and tbh I'm scared to publish it. Had a hard time coming up with a plot that would make sense (and yes this is the underdark/menzoberranzan fic)

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy and stick around for more parts in the future.

In front of you is an array of literature varying from books, scrolls and notes. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Picking up yet another scroll and unrolling it, the words painted on it turns into a blur. Arcane symbols dance before your eyes but the contents of the page escapes your fleeting mind and it drifts to past memories of Moonrise Towers. 

“...And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he pauses, searching for the right words to continue. “You’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Stunned by his confession, your own voice momentarily failed you. The Elf spoke again, revealing a truth that cut through your heart like a blade.“Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

Astarion further explains his train of thought, you could see his mouth moving but not a word reached your ears. Sadness, confusion, happiness and anger; the emotions mixed and collided within you. Was your relationship built on lies? Had you somehow forced him to sleep with you? It was all so much.

“I don't know how else to be with someone, No matter how much I’d like to.” 

You’d decided to remain just friends, and it had felt like the right choice. Liberating even, seeing Asterion grow into a person no longer controlled by fear. But now, you wallowed in selfishness due to your aching heart. Now it is the thing that keeps you from focusing on the task ahead. Now it is the thing keeping your from nights embrace, your body twisting and turning when the moon shone through the curtains. Now it is the numb feeling whilst faceless men sing your name between your legs. The decision, made with the intention of preserving your friendship, now felt as liberating as a chain strung to your neck. 

Moreover, you haven't seen him in weeks -  or could it be months? The passage of time blurs and certainly eludes you. Yet, effortlessly, his image flits into your head - bouncy white curls, piercing crimson eyes, a sharp nose and that godsdamn smirk. Interchangeable in your memory - forever young - he remains a vivid specter that refuses to fade.

Breaking your train of thought, there is a tap on your shoulder, a figure crouching over you to peer at the discoveries revealed in the scroll. 

“Found anything of interest?” Rolan spoke, eyeing you from above. 

“Ehm no, just lost in thought.” you replied, attempting to shake off the lingering memories that had clouded your focus. 

“Well, neither have I.” he puffed out a breath of air, “My best bet is to return to the House of Grief for more answers so I could study the mirror you spoke off.”

“I’m not sure they’d warmly welcome me back after my latest visit.” you let out a strained chuckle, struck by a memory of  Viconas lifeless person as Shadowhearts struck the merciless final blow to her chest. 

Since your time in the House of Grief, your bond with magic has slowly dwindled. The once-familiar currents of arcane energy now seemed distant. Magic had been an extension of you, and its absence felt akin to a cruel mutilation and you were desperate to feel magic coursing through your veins once more. Your desperation had led you here - Sorcerous Sundries, for any clue or hope that you might become whole again.

"Anyhow, have you heard from Gale yet?" you inquired, seeking a distraction from your thoughts.

"He deemed Waterdeep fruitless in our search and should be arranging plans to continue in Neverwinter as we speak," Rolan replied, his eyes pacing the floorboards beneath him. "Maybe we should pause our search for today; the sun is setting, and you, my friend, are in desperate need of a drink." His suggestion hung in the air, a respite offered amidst your futile search for answers. 

You had no energy to protest, you truly wanted to go, you really did. But what you needed was to dive into the mountains of untouched texts sprawled in a ring in front of you. 

Lazily tracing the arcane figures, partly lost in deliberation you answer “Thank you for the offer but I shouldn’t, you go and I’ll stay here.”

"Come on, just one drink. It won't solve all our problems, but it might provide a momentary escape," he insisted, recognizing the heaviness in your gaze. "We can resume our search tomorrow with clearer minds. Trust me, it's what you need right now."

A defeated sign escapes your lips “Fine, one drink but no more than that”. 

Laying a victorious touch on your arm, the tiefling grinned, "That's the spirit!" Helping you up, he proceeded, "The Elf Song in an hour; I need to run something by Lia first." With determined steps, he led you away from your search for answers in the pile of books. 

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

The warm light emanating from the Elfsongs' painted windows cast a glow over your figure as you linger outside the bustling door. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses weave together, that should beckon you inside but it doesn't. Nothing seems to pique your interest these days. The hero of Baldurs Gate was but a mere shell of what bards sang about and the thought of being recognized, of eyes filled with anticipation that lingers for extraordinary tales to be told - you can't stand it. 

Adding to your dread, are the invasive questions about your companions - about Astarion. Head spinning and lips slowly drooping to frown, you instinctively recoil from the entrance. 

With a heavy sigh, you reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around a familiar flask. The cool metal brings a small comfort, and in contrast your throat burns as you gulp down liquid courage. 

Stealing yourself against the prying questions and the weight of everyone's expectations, you push open the tavern door, stepping into the warm embrace of the tavern, where Rolan and Lia await, immersed in their own stories. You offer them a weak smile as you approach the booth. 

“There you are, I almost thought you wouldn’t show but I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Come, sit!” Lia urges, patting the cushion beside her. As you settle into the booth, you can't help but notice the curious eyes around you.

Gods no.

Instinctively, your finger twirls and you mutter a spell to cast disguise self, only to be reminded of your uselessness. A tinge of frustration tightens your jaw, quickly masked by a forced smile. You divert your gaze, hoping to shield yourself from the unwanted attention. 

“What’s your poison for today?” Lia asks, a mischievous smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Her breath smells of alcohol; Lia and Rolan had clearly begun drinking ahead of you. Not that you could judge them, having indulged in your trusted flask outside the tavern minutes ago. 

“I’ll have what you’ve had.”

“Coming right up!” Lia responds, her enthusiasm undeterred. She signals the bartender, and soon enough, a trio of drinks arrives at the table. 

Rolan is the first to grip the glass and then clear his throat, “To us,  and Gale - and hope that tomorrow will give us more answers.” 

One drink turns into four drinks, and at some point, you lose track of both time and the units you’ve allowed to warm your gullet. Honestly it’s quite funny, why did you worry so much before? Silly you with silly thoughts! Almost as silly as Rolan’s eyes focused on your neck. He looks funny with his eyebrows furrowed, and a chuckle escapes your lips at the sight.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep staring at my neck like that, Rolan.”

“I did no such thing!” he retorts as a flush creeps up on the tiefling's cheeks.

Lia heartily laughs, swaying a bit, and offers her hand to you. “Join me for a dance, will you?” The music in the tavern entices you and despite the blurred lines of inebriation, you take Lia’s hand and step into the lively dance floor.

Lia practically dragged you through the crowded tavern, Rolan following closely behind to his best abilities. The dance floor was filled with twirling bodies, in rhythm with the bard's melodies. Pulling your arm up, Lia spins and chuckles as you reach the bards scene. Rolan, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, reaches the two of you and joins the dance. The world seems to sway with the music and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spreads across your face. 

As you moved to the music, you sensed Rolans’ proximity. His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you through the intricate steps of the dance. The unfamiliar warmth of his hand against your skin was a stark contrast to the memories of Asterion's cool touch.The bard's music kept on playing, the tunes bouncing off the plucked strings, the odor of alcohol on his breath, and hot uncontrolled bodies clashing against your person -  Gods, its too much. You can't stay a minute longer or you might suffocate. 

“I need some air,” you mumble and offer an apologizing smile, excusing yourself as the dance continues without you. 

“Wait!” a muffled voice calls out, but you pretend that you’re too far off to hear. 

Faces blurred into a sea of strangers, and the lively chatter became an indistinguishable hum. Your breath quickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling of faceless men and women judging your every step. Because now they know - they know that you were no hero of Baldur's gate, just another drunk who couldn’t even cast a simple spell to disguise herself from embarrassment. 

Pathetic. 

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast between the warmth of the dance floor and the refreshing chill outside sent shivers down your spine. Crouching down you plant your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath and ease your mind. 

A moment later, the tavern door swung open abruptly, an curly haired man emerging as he wrestled with another almost feral one. The creature thrashed and snarled at the curly haired man as he strained against the frenzied movements. Caught off guard, you stood up in the shadow beside the entrance, your breath hitching again as you observed the scene unfold. 

Seizing the opportunity to make sense of the situation, you assertively approached the struggling men, dagger clutched and ready strike if needed. The curly-haired man's eyes flickered toward you and your gaze met his.

Deep crimson eyes, ivory curls, and are those fangs?

No, that can't be.

"Astarion?" you uttered, your voice a hushed whisper that sliced through the night, your eyes fixed on the elf's face in utter disbelief. There he was, right before you.

Astarion's attention shifted to the rabid man, deftly maneuvering to subdue him. He restrained the creature, halting any further erratic movements. With precision, Astarion extracted a flask from his belt, causing the man's struggles to intensify. Despite the increased resistance, Astarion's actions remained calculated and exact.

With the man momentarily contained, Astarion secured him in place with one hand, the other retrieving a flask. He raised it to his mouth, a subtle glint of fangs emerging as he skillfully removed the lid with his teeth.

"Hello," the rogue spoke, pausing to inject the man with the unfamiliar substance. The feral struggles ceased, and Astarion continued, his tone now imbued with a nuanced warmth, "darling."

Stunned you remain constrained where you stood. This is real, Astarion is here after days, weeks and months of him plaguing your thoughts every waking moment. Your mind races, trying to process the surreal present. A rumble in your stomach seems to pull you out of your trance, nausea spreading in your throat. 

Keep. it. down. 

“Care to help or do you intend to stand there and just gawk?”

Once more the door beside you swung open, a tall figure emerges with swaying strands of long hair catching in the wind, intent on reaching the paralyzed man and Astarion. 

“We said no killing, remember?" he spoke.

"Oh, my apologies, brother. I must have forgotten our little agreement when I was wrestling the feral dog whilst you were nowhere to be seen.”

At that moment, you recognized the man - Leon. His expression remained stoic, though a flicker of irritation crossed his features. "Your theatrics aren't amusing, Astarion. We need to keep them alive; this is not the time nor place for you to display your unique methods."

You finally had a surge to act, fumbled in your bag and searched for any potion or scroll that could help. A glass vial of what seemed to be a healing potion met your fingers, and you pulled it out, unscrewing the cap with shaky hands. 

“Here take this,” you called out, holding the potion aloft, offering a forced smile amidst the charged atmosphere. 

As you step forward to give Leon the vial, Rolan stumbles out the tavern door, tipsy and eyes searching for something in the night. You’d completely forgotten about Rolan and Lia, they’d probably been worried since you hadn’t returned. His eyes widened at the chaotic scene before him, and he instinctively moved to stand in front of you, a protective gesture. His hand flickered with a small flame, ready to defend against any potential threat. 

"What in the hells is happening here?" Rolan demanded, a mix of concern and bewilderment in his voice.

Before anyone could respond, Astarion let out a small laugh, one that you couldn't seem to decipher the meaning of. What was so funny? Rolan certainly wasn't amused, and the flame rose higher from his palm at the elf's dismissive laugh. Leon's gaze moved to Rolan, his hands raising in a gesture of peace, showing that they were no threat to him or you.

“Got yourself a knight in shining armor, have you now?” Astarion remarked, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Knight in shining armor? The words stung, and a spark of anger flared within you. Rolan didn't need to save you nor did you want him to. Opening your mouth to retort, Leon interjected, his voice firm and commanding.

“Astarion, don’t,” Leon snapped at him, a stern edge to his voice. He then looked directly at you, his expression softening. “We don’t want to fight you. Let's find a quieter spot to talk, and we’ll explain everything.”

You nodded, the tension in the air making it clear that this was not the time for confrontation. Rolan, still wary but trusting your judgment, lowered the flame in his palm. With cautious glances exchanged between the group, you began to move away from the chaotic scene, guided by Leon's lead to a more secluded spot where answers awaited. 

[norrizzandpia]

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: With time apart, will Lando and Y/n set aside the mistakes they’ve made to make room for their love or will the fights take over and, in turn, their love become a story of the past?

Warnings: basically depression, getting evicted? Is that a trigger (lmk if i missed anything as always xx)

The months following Y/n walking out on Lando were pure hell for both parties involved. His performance in races plummeted as he stopped showing up for training sessions, meetings, and everything else in between. It didn’t matter how many pep talks each driver gave him with the end goal of at least getting him out of bed, he stopped being funny, charismatic, and optimistic Lando. The 23-year-old male became a shell of a human, completely swallowed whole by the void Y/n left in her wake. No one had seen him in that kind of pain ever. Most of the time, Lando would take a day to wallow, but he always ended up picking himself back up and trying again. But, with hours spent crying alone and days spent on autopilot, no one saw an end in sight.

Y/n, on the other hand, took the louder approach at trying to rid herself of the saddened feeling. Going to parties and drinking until she couldn’t walk straight became the norm for her. She was so afraid to be left alone to her thoughts, with her phone, with herself. She didn’t want to find out how excruciating the pain of losing Lando was once the alcohol stopped flowing and the music stopped playing.

However bittersweet, what it took to get her life to catch up with her was the day she held eviction papers in her hands. She had gotten home at 2 AM only to find a neon yellow sheet taped to her door. Honestly, she had been waiting for it to happen. With being unemployed and distracting herself from thoughts of Lando and everything they could have been, she stopped paying her bills. While dangerous, she couldn’t care what happened to herself. With news of Lando not doing well after they parted ways, she blamed herself for both of their pain. So, she clutched the bolded words in her small hands as tears welled in her eyes. Sobbing, she had called Daniel that night, pleading with him to come over and help claw her way out of the biggest hole she had ever dug for herself.

“Y/n?” Daniel’s groggy voice filtered through the speakers of the phone.

“Daniel.” Her choked sobs woke him up immediately, coincidentally jolting Heidi awake as he jumped out of bed to throw some clothes on, waving goodbye to his girlfriend and letting her know he would explain later.

By the time he was out of the door, her tears had quieted and she began filling him in on everything he had missed in the few months she had gone silent, “I’ve been evicted.”

His heart stopped, “What?”

Her tears returned, “Yep! I’m homeless now. I guess this is karma. I’ve ruined Lando’s life, I’ve ruined mine. I just ruin things. I hurt people and I destroy relationships and I stop everyone around me from being happy. God, I suck, don’t I? I mean, I had it all. I had Lando, he was telling me everything I wanted to hear. Jesus, he was begging me to stay and I still left! I can’t let myself be happy!”

Daniel’s heart broke for the girl on the other side of the phone as he sped to her house, “Y/n, none of that is true. You didn’t ruin anyone’s life. Your feelings were and are valid. You don’t destroy everything around you. You never have and you never will. Everyone loves you, Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He continued to reassure her as he drove to her. Listening to her cries of anguish only reaffirmed the fact that someone, anyone, had to force the couple to make amends.

—

“Lando? You in there?” Carlos asked through the door. A quiet murmur told the Spaniard his friend was, in fact, resting within his driver’s suite. Opening the door, he was met with Lando, sitting on the floor with the contents of his backpack spilled out in front of him.

Brows furrowed, Carlos crouched down to meet the London boy’s level, “What are you doing?”

Lando’s hands flew over the pile of contents, “I’m looking for a birthday card.”

Carlos shook his head, “A birthday card?”

Lando nodded frantically, seemingly in immense panic, “Yes! A birthday card! Y/n gave it to me last year and I never take it out of my backpack because I usually want to read it over again before a race! But, I can’t find it, Carlos! I can’t fucking find it anywhere!”

His breaths picked up as his voice broke. Carlos, gently, placed his hands over his friend’s swinging arms and held them tightly as to stop their flailing.

“Lando, you need to breathe.” Carlos said pointedly as he stared at the blue eyes across from him, filled with so much pain and regret.

Lando always tried to hide his tears from other people. Knowing that he was the happy and joyful one, it always felt wrong to show feelings of sadness in front of others. However, Y/n had shown him that showing that specific feeling was okay, that it allowed others to be able to connect with him on a deeper level. So, this time, he didn’t try to hide the tears that fought to fall from his face.

Lando’s hands rubbed over his eyes as he quietly said, “It’s the last thing I have of her and it’s gone, just like she is. I can’t take this anymore. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. The thought of never seeing her again…” Carlos squeezed his shoulders, “That couldn’t have been the end of us, right?”

Carlos shook his head, “I don’t think it is, Lando. I think you’ll find your way back to each other, whether that’s tomorrow or in 50 years.”

Lando sighed, “But, I can’t wait 50 years.”

“Then, you have to fight for her.”

—

“What happens if she walks out?” Lando asked Daniel as they made their way toward Daniel’s front door.

“Then, you follow her.” Daniel retorted as they came to a stop in front of the large slab of wood, “Listen, Lando, it’s going to be hard, but you just have to be persistent. That is until you’re sure she doesn’t want to hear from you. But, I don’t think that’s a possibility. Ever since she’s moved in with me, I’ve gotten to catch her scrolling through old photos of the two of you or text messages you used to share. Trust me, mate, she’s still head over heels for you.”

Lando blushed and nodded his head, “Thank you for everything. For helping me plan all of this and allowing me to talk to her. I know how much you want to protect her from our lives.”

Daniel sighed, “You’re right, I do. She’s like a little sister, you know? But, I do know that, without you, she’s miserable and that’s worse to watch than her going through paparazzi.”

Pushing the door open and taking a deep breath, Lando whispered a thank you to Daniel before making his way through the foyer.

“Daniel? Is that you? I’m finishing up dinner right now!” Her voice yelled throughout the house and when it met Lando’s ears, he was hit with a large feeling of comfort. After all these years, she had become his home, it wasn’t a physical place or written address, it was just her.

Stepping into the kitchen, Lando stood and observed her while she had her back to him. The way she moved about the space with a small sense of confidence. The level at which she was carrying herself didn’t match the amount of self-assurance she used to have, but he had also been informed by Daniel that her mental health had taken a hit after all this time apart, something that hurt him more than her walking out on him could ever have.

As she turned around and her eyes landed on the boy she had dreamt of for so long, she faltered.

“Wha-” Words were lost on her, “What are you doing here?”

Lando breathed deeply, “I know everything that happened between us before was messy and we thought that was it, but I refuse to let you go that easy.”

She shook her head, “I’m confused. What are you saying?”

He took a step toward her and, thankfully, this time, she didn’t take one back, “I’m saying that I love you. I always have. Since the moment we met in the McLaren building where you asked me where Zak’s office was, I’ve been in love with you. I’m so sorry for everything I said in that interview. I never wanted to tell you about my feelings that way because I’ve always known you deserve so much. If I could take it all back and redo that moment over again, I would. If I could do it again, I would’ve told you how in love with you I am when I realized it which was, like, 2 months in. I was stupid to think I could stop my feelings for you by dating around and seeing what other people were out there because, in the end, I won’t ever be able to help falling in love with you.”

At his words, she took a step closer, so did he, “Not being with you is like if someone took cheese off pizza.” The two chuckled, “See! It’s ridiculous! Absolutely, positively stupid because they go together, they always have. That’s how I am with you. Without you, I’m not the same person and, now that I know that, I’m going to keep fighting for you, for us, until it works out. I love who I am with you, so does everyone else. It’s always been written in the story of my life to be with you because it’s a necessity. You have always been written into the story of my life because I’ve never loved anyone as hard as I do you and I’m incredibly sure that will never change.”

Now, standing so close to each other, Y/n looked into the eyes of the man she had missed so much and found herself forgiving him for the mistakes he made. With glass eyes and a quivering lip, she pulled him into her arms, “Lando, I’ve missed you.”

His arms squeezed her waist as he nuzzled his head in her neck, “I’ve missed you too, my love. You’ll never understand how much.”

They stood like that for a few moments before Lando’s head tugged backward and he captured her eyes with his, “Wait, you never said it.”

Tilting her head, Y/n asked, “Said what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “You know!”

She was about to protest until she realized what she had failed to say back in the heat of the moment, so she smiled and kissed his lips lightly before pulling back, her breath fanning across his face as she said, “I love you too. Always have and always will.”

Finally, the words that brought the light back into Lando’s life.

So, take my hand.

Take my whole life too.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.