#the moment they reach the sweet talk threshold this happens

[thatsmyassbrostop]

Read.

[alvojake]

Scream For Me | Y.JW

「paring」 : ghostface!bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.4k

「synopsis」 : word of a masked serial killer spreads like wildfire in your small town, but it never fully sets in until you come face-to-face with the very killer who just so happens to be your sweet boyfriend and he has an ulterior motive.

「genre」 : pure smut with some plot, horror/thriller, angst, serial killer au

「warning」 : jungwon is a killer, blood, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, knife play, cursing, fingering, petnames (baby, princess, my love, slut), won is MEAN, messy, oral (f. receiving), jungwon is kinda manipulative in the beginning, degradation, dacryphilia, choking, minor hair pulling, making out, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding, teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, marking, breeding kink, creampie, passing out, slight manhandling, I feel like I def missed a few things, pls lmk!

「note」 : so I kinda went a little crazy with this one... this has been a serious brainrot so I hope you enjoy it! also, it's only been lightly edited!

The room suddenly felt ten times colder than it did just moments before, your heart was racing and you could hear it through your ears. Your phone was tightly clutched in your hand as your eyes scanned all of the windows in your house, his words still ringing in your head.

“It’s such a shame, a pretty thing like you left your doors unlocked…”

Word of a serial killer in your small town had gotten to you, but you never really thought much of it because, of course, you were always with your boyfriend. However, the one night that he had family matters to attend to was the very night this killer decided to make his move.

Tears had already pooled in your eyes, terror filling your veins. The person had used a voice changer so it wasn’t like you could try to figure out who it was by their voice. You stood in your kitchen racking your brain for possibilities on who this masked killer could be, all while your front door creaked open quietly.

The sound of your floorboards creaking caught your attention, head turned in the direction of the noise. Without a second thought, you started slowly walking down the hall. It was almost like the fear had made you lose all your common sense, doing things you swore you’d never do while watching horror movies. 

“Hello?” Your meek voice called out, bouncing off of the empty halls, gaining no response besides a small echo of your own voice. 

A scream tore through your throat as a vase next to you fell and shattered, glass fragments scattering all around your bare feet. Looking down with wide, teary eyes, you try to tiptoe around the broken shards without cutting yourself. 

‘What did I do to deserve this…?’

The tears finally spilled from your eyes as you made it to the end of the hall, seeing your front door wide open. This was actually going to be the end, wasn’t it? You’d never get to finish school like you planned, you’d never get to hang out with your friends anymore, see your parents at dinner, or volunteer at the animal shelter with Jungwon. Jungwon. Oh, how you wish you could talk to your sweet boyfriend one last time, tell him that everything would be okay and that you love him.

You were torn from your thoughts as a loud crash was heard from upstairs causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. Cries fell from your lips as you looked between the open door and the stairs, debating on whether you should just run for it.

‘Why the fuck am I even asking that?’ 

You turn, making your way to the front door, however, before you could step through the threshold you heard a voice.

“Y/n? Baby?” 

Your heart dropped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, why is he here? Turning away from the door, hands trembling as you reached for the railing of the stairs. “Won?” Your voice cracked as you tried peeking up the stairs, but saw nothing.

“Baby, help me please.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and it broke you, tears streaming down your face, sobs falling from your lips. 

Whether it was the fear or the need to save your boyfriend you turn and go back down the hallway, stepping over the glass once more. As if luck wasn’t on your side at all, you ended up stepping on a stray piece of glass causing a sharp pain to shoot up your leg. A loud cry left your lips as you leaned against a wall, the phone falling from your hand.

Tears continued to stream down your flushed face as you grabbed your foot to look at the damage done. Biting your lip you grab the shard before pulling it from your foot, a trail of crimson blood following after it.

Another crash from upstairs reminded you of the situation once more and you scrambled to the kitchen, straight to the knife stand. Grabbing one of the bigger knives, your hands trembling as you made your way back to the stairs, walking through the living room so as to not step on any more glass. 

You call out for your boyfriend once more as you take the steps slowly, leaving a trail of red behind you. However, you were met with silence.

Terror struck you as you got to the top of the step, there were boot prints on the ground that you hadn’t noticed before, leading straight to your bedroom. Holding the knife defensively in front of you, hands trembling, you move to the ajar door, pushing it open.

Your eyes went wide as the door swung open, there was your boyfriend, on his knees in the middle of your room.

“Jungwon!” You quickly made your way towards him, throwing all caution to the wind to make sure he was okay. The knife fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees in front of him, the sound of soft cries falling from his lips. “Hold on, I'll get you out of here.” Panic and worry surge through you, going to untie his hands from behind him, only to realize. He wasn’t tied up.

“Oh y/n, y/n, y/n.” The cries turned into laughter as he lifted his head meeting your eyes. Jungwon watched in amusement as the worry on your face morphed into terror. You try to reach for the knife that you discarded, but you aren’t quick enough. Jungwon snatched the object off of the ground, “Ahahah now my love, don’t act too rash now.” he chuckled as he towered over your trembling form.

The sight of the tears falling from your beautiful doe eyes as you looked up at him caused his cock to twitch behind his pants. 

Your eyes trailed from his blood-speckled face down the length of his body before falling on the mask in his left hand. The same Ghostface mask that the police have reported the killer to always be wearing. Looking back up you met Jungwon’s eyes as realization set in. The man before you, your boyfriend, the same man who would never hurt a bug, was a cold-blooded killer.

Jungwon smirked as he crouched down in front of you, moonlight gleaming off of the knife in his hand. You watched him in fear, fear of what he was going to do with you. Was he going to kill you? Or was all of this some sick joke his friend put him up to, but with the curfew in town set you knew that'd be hard to pull off.

“Why are you so surprised, my love? I thought you were smarter than this.” His voice was cold, nothing like the warm and sweet one you were used to. Then his words registered in your brain, what did he mean? Taking in your confused expression he brought his hand with the mask, taping a gloved finger to his temple, “Use that pretty head of yours.”

As you thought more and more about how the killings always lined up when he wasn’t with you, the more you started to realize that it had been right under your nose. 

Jungwon watched with a sadistic smile as he noticed your shaking die down, as well as your breathing evened out. Even in this insane situation, your body was subconsciously relaxing in his presence. 

“It was really you?” Your voice shook as you looked back up at him, tears silently flowing down your face.

Jungwon just hummed with a nod, “Yep.” he popped the ‘p’ as he brought the knife closer to his face, inspecting it. “It’s therapeutic honestly, you should try it sometime, I know how stressed you get.”

You swallowed thickly as you watched the light bounce off of the sharp metal, your fear was slowly melting away. Noticing your lingering gaze, Jungwon pointed the knife towards you, the sharp point barely a centimeter away from your nose. Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you looked from the weapon to your boyfriend's dark eyes.

“Don’t be getting any funny ideas now, princess.” His tone is dark, making your stomach flip. 

“I wasn’t…” Letting out a shaky breath you reach forward cautiously still believing that he would never hurt you, grabbing his wrist and pulling the object away from your face. “I wasn’t going to, Won, I swear.”

He chuckled darkly before dropping his mask to encase your throat in his palm, squeezing hard enough to limit your oxygen. Pushing your body down roughly until your back was flat on the cold ground, his body caging yours underneath him. He traced the knife down the side of your face, a crazed look in his eyes causing a whimper to leave your lips, rubbing your thighs together.

Your head started to spin as so many emotions started to spiral, but fear and lust were the ones to overthrow the others. Why was this turning you on? You were supposed to be fighting to get his hand off your throat, but you only hoped he’d squeeze more. The knife that was so close to cutting your skin only excited you more. Then his face, god his face covered in blood was a sight you didn’t know you needed.

Noticing how you started to squirm underneath him, Jungwon smirked, squeezing your throat more. A broken moan tore through your lips as your eyes screwed shut, heat pooling in your lower gut.

“Are you enjoying this?” He leaned closer to your face, warm breath brushing across your lips. Your eyes fluttered open to show him the need and lust that swirled in them causing him to smile, his teeth peeking out from between his lips. “Such a dirty slut,”

He pulled away slightly to trailed the blade over your collarbone, before moving to hook the knife under your shirt. You whined as the sounds of your top ripping filled the room.

“And you’re not wearing a bra, such a naughty girl.” He teased as he placed the blade back on your bare skin, tracing the tip down the valley of your breast leaving goosebumps in its wake. A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your boyfriend, whose gaze was already on you, studying your reactions.

When he brought the blade to the sensitive skin of your nipple, you cried out, head falling back. Jungwon could feel himself growing even harder in his jeans, never knowing his sweet little girlfriend would enjoy something so dirty. Then he got ideas of how he could torture you until you were begging for his cock.

A broken ‘please’ fell from your lips causing Jungwon to look at you with a sadistic smirk, dragging the blade away from your boob, and down your stomach. When he got closer to your core, your hips bucked causing the knife to puncture your skin. Your head fell back with a moan at the sudden pain, it ignited a new kind of flame in your gut.

“Fuck.” Jungwon cursed as he watched in amazement at how your body was reacting. He pulled the blade away from your skin resulting in a whine from you. Blood trickled from the small cut flowing down your side before meeting the band of your sleep shorts, dying the fabric red.

He chuckled as he watched you squirm under his hold, your hands trying to reach him. Letting go of your throat you let out a gasp before he grabbed the back of your head, his lips smashing into yours. A small yelp of surprise fell from your lips before melting into his lips, matching his pace, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

His free hand trailed down your sensitive skin making you moan into his mouth, his fingers tracing circles on the inside of your thigh as he got closer to your core. Your hips buck into his hand desperate for his touch.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Jungwon whispered against your lips before biting your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. You whimpered at the pain before he pulled your lip into his mouth, sucking harshly making your head spin.

His fingers slipped past the waistband of your bottom, smearing blood on your abdomen in the process. Your jaw fell slack, a moan falling from your parted lips as his finger brushed against your slit.

“Such a dirty, dirty girl, I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so wet.” He berated you, watching you whine, tears pooling in your eyes because your body felt so hot and he wasn’t doing anything to help, just watching with that same smirk on his lips.

“Please, Jungwon, please please.” You sounded like a broken record begging for him to do something.

However, he pulled his hand from your pussy and moved away from your body altogether. You moved yourself to sit up, watching him with wide eyes as he walked towards your bed, pulling the gloves off of his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed before looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Get over here.” His voice was rough, with a hint of annoyance as he watched you continue to sit on the ground. Seeing anger flash across his face made your stomach turn causing you to scramble to your feet. 

Jungwon watched as you meekly walked towards him, your boobs bouncing slightly with each step you took. When you stood before him, he looked up at you taking in the sight of you looking right at the bulge in his jeans shamelessly.

“If you wanna cum so badly…” His voice broke your trance making you meet his eyes as he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. You whined as you felt his bulge press right against your clothed core. “Then ride my thigh.”

“But-” “It’s my thigh or nothing, princess. I’m not lifting a finger to help you get off.” He cut you off, getting ready to push you off of him, but you grabbed his shoulders telling him to wait.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, he’s never asked for anything like this any other time you’ve had sex. He was always sweet and making sure you were taken care of, but seeing this new side of him was a sort of whiplash.

As you moved to straddle his thigh, he removed his hands from your hips using them to support himself as he leaned back. Watching as you started rocking back and forth on his thigh, hands fisting his shirt trying to ground yourself. Sigh-like moans leave your lips as you spread your legs further trying to gain more friction.

Jungwon watched in amusement as your body shuddered in pleasure, trying to keep yourself balanced. However, the closer you got to your climax the more rushed your movements became and the volume of your moans increased.

“Wonnie please…” You whined as you slumped forward, legs growing numb due to the overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon knew you were close because of the way your jaw fell slack and your knuckles turned white due to gripping his shirt so tight.

“Oh come on baby, you’re not tired already, are you?” He mocked you as you continued to whine out, rocking your hips furiously. Wanting to prove him wrong you sat up a little bit more, your head falling back. 

Your high was so dangerously close that you could taste it, “W-Won!”

“Go on, cum on my thigh like the desperate slut you are.” His words had you tipping over the edge, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm. Jungwon sat up taking your hips in his hands once more, pulling them further down on his thigh, a loud moan leaving your lips. He continued to rock you against him, forcing your body into overstimulation.

“W-Won- fuck, ‘s too much.” You whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck, hand on his bicep.

“But you were so desperate to cum baby, I’m just helping you.” He chuckled as he felt your body shudder, face still buried in his neck. Leaning forward a bit he pressed a kiss to your shoulder making your body tingle. 

You could feel another high creeping up on you, “Won… I’m close.” Another, softer moan left your lips as you kissed his neck. He flexed his thigh underneath you causing your body to tremble as another orgasm washed over you, groaning against his neck.

Jungwon didn’t give you a second to rest, picking you up and laying you on the bed. Not even a second later his lips were on your neck sucking harshly leaving bright red marks in his wake. A loud moan broke through your lips as he bit down on your collarbone, hand flying to his head. 

He left a trail of his marks down your chest before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, your back arching pushing further into his mouth. Your fingers tugged his hair against his nape causing him to groan against your skin, hands on your hips pulling your body flush against his.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” He raised his head, his eyes holding an animalistic gleam, “but I bet your pussy tastes sweeter.” Your head falls back as he cups your core, pressing against your clothed core. With a devilish smirk, he lets his lips trail down your tummy, licking your wound and letting the crimson liquid coat his tongue. 

Looking down you felt like you wanted to combust at the sight of him tracing his tongue along the trail of dried blood. When he got to the hem of your shorts he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he tugged them down your legs. Watching the way you held your breath, eyes following his hands until the cloth was completely off of your body. 

Throwing them to the side, Jungwon turned back to you taking in the sight of your body, completely bare before him. Grabbing your ankle he brought it to his shoulder pressing a kiss on your calf watching as you squirmed under him, your lip between your teeth keeping from letting any sounds slip.

“Why are you so quiet now baby?” He asked as he trailed to your inner thigh listening to your breath hitch. Getting closer to your core, he blew on it watching the way your hole clenched around nothing. Chuckling darkly he laid your leg over her shoulder before licking a long stripe up your slit collecting your juices and cum on his tongue, humming at the taste. Your hands go to tangle in his hair, but he stops you. “Ah, hands behind your back.”

“But-” “Now, or I’ll tie you to the headboard and you won’t get to touch me at all.” He threatened and you whined but followed his instructions nonetheless. Arching your back enough to place your arms underneath before laying back down, trapping them.

Satisfied with your actions he goes back down on you, harshly sucking on your clit, eliciting a loud cry from your lips. He hummed against you, finally getting you to release your sounds again. He continued to devour your pussy like a starved man, broken moans and cries fell from your parted lips, hips bucking against his face.

His hand that was holding your hip moved to press down on your stomach, keeping you in place. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his tongue against your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit deliciously. 

“You taste heavenly my love,” He groaned against you, making your head spin, a cry of his name leaving your lips, fingers digging into the sheets under you. When he pressed two fingers into you so easily you felt like you could cum then and there. 

His pace was relentless as he pumped his fingers into you while switching between soft and hard sucks on your clit. The sensation was driving you insane and you felt like you could scream. 

You didn’t even give him a warning when you came as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot. Your vision turned white as you screamed his name, everything becoming extremely overwhelming, but he didn’t let up on his pace, dragging your orgasm out as long as he possibly could. You tried to get away from him as you felt another orgasm creeping up quickly, but his grip was too strong.

“Scream for me again princess, let the neighbors know who’s making you feel so good.” He smirked as he looked at you, his lower face glistening in your juices. His fingers continued to abuse your sweet spot until your whole body shook.

“OH MY GOD!” You cried out as your fourth orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave. Jungwon watched smugly as you rode out your high on his fingers before pulling them from your needy hole.

You whined softly at the sudden empty feeling and he laid your trembling leg down on the bed before leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, he pulled your arms out from underneath you.

He grabbed your hand before leading it down his torso before groaning as your fingertips brushed against his clothes cock.

“You feel that baby?” He hissed through his teeth as you pressed your palm against him, “It’s all because of you and you’re gonna help me right?” He asked as he nipped at your jaw earning a whine from you, “gonna let me fuck this slutty pussy right?” You moaned as he moved your hand to your own sopping cunt. 

“P-Please.” You begged looking at him, eyes pleading with him.

“Please what princess?” He brought your hand to his mouth, licking your juices off of your own fingers, “you want my cock?” You nodded, biting your lip, eyes never leaving his. He grabbed your other wrist before pinning your hands next to your head, rolling his hips against yours, a moan tore through your lips. His lips ghosted over yours, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

His eyes bore into yours, your bottom lip quivering. With another roll of his hip, your brain turned into mush. Your hands balled into fists, eyes screwing shut, “fuck, Wonnie please, I want your cock in me so bad, fuck me please, Wonnie, please.” You rambled on as Jungwon watched you lose yourself smugly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t try this earlier, this was the hottest he’s ever seen you and it made him ten times harder. 

Releasing his hold on you he moved back to pull his shirt over his head leaving you to ogle at his bare torso. Reaching out you let your finger brush against his skin before he gave you a look making you retract your hand worried he’d deny you of his cock for longer.

Undoing his belt and unzipping his pants he pulled them down along with his underwear letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, yearning for it even more. Noticing your gaze Jungwon smirked, moving closer to you and grabbing your thighs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

“I haven’t even put it in yet and you already look like you’re about to cum.” He teased as he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit making you whine and squirm. A smug smirk tugged on his as he lined his tip up with your entrance watching your eyes roll.

“Fuck.”  You cursed as he pushed in before stilling and grabbing your hips to keep you from moving them, a whine leaving your lips.

Without any warning, he thrusted into you stealthing his length in you in one go causing you to quite literally scream his name, nails digging into the sheets. He smiled sadistically as he leaned down next to your ear, pushing deeper into you.

“You just love getting fucked by a serial killer don’t you y/n?” He nipped at your ear, “I bet you’d love it even more if I wore the mask huh?” Your brain was foggy, not able to voice a single thing, but your body did the talking for you. Jungwon groaned as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing his dick like you never wanted him to leave. “You’re such a dirty slut.” He berated you with a smile before he pulled his hip back until only his tip was left in you.

He thrusted his hips back into you, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes rolled back. He kept the brutal pace, his hand that was on your hip traveled up to your neck, squeezing and making you squeak. Tears fell from your eyes, drool spilling from the corner of your lips as you babbled nonsense. 

Jungwon could feel himself grow even harder at the sight of your fucked out state, taking in your teary eyes that would look at him before rolling back when he hit a particular spot in your cunt.

“God, you feel so good, princess.” He groaned as you squeezed around him, he had been hard for so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not if your pussy kept squeezing him like this. “Fuck I’m not gonna last, I need you to cum for me, baby.” He breathed out as he grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. The new angle had you seeing stars, your vision quite literally going dark, a pitiful squeak falling from your swollen lips. “I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum and you’re gonna take every last drop like the good little slut you are.”

His words were your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and Jungwon groaned loudly as you squeezed him so hard, pushing him over as well.

His cum painted your walls white as he continued to fuck it into you and you were milking him for all he was worth as your walls continued to pulse around him. He felt your body go limp against his making him look up at your face seeing that you had passed out.

“Aww, how cute…” He cooed as he continued to roll his hips into yours until he went completely soft inside you. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.”

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[golden-cherry]

the way you like it - c. leclerc

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: winning twice does something to Charles - in a good way

warnings: basically porn without plot, smut, fingering, overstimulation, slight choking, mentions of creampie and somnophilia, unprotected sex, poorly translated french

word count: 550

a/n: hello friends. I haven't written in a long time and this just happened and I couldn't keep it to myself. enjoy!

"Si bon pour moi, mon amour", Charles groans into your ear, his hand on your stomach sliding down to your thighs and feeling how sticky they are, stained with both of your cum. "Regarde combine tu es venu pour moi." so good for me, my love. look at how much you came for me.

"Charles, please." Your voice is barely more than a whisper. With your eyes closed, you blindly try to reach for his hand, his skilled fingers slowly circling your swollen clit. "It's too much. I can't-"

Charles carefully pushes your hand away and you're too exhausted to do anything about it. "You can and you will." You feel his sweaty skin against your back as he drapes your leg over his hip, his front pressing against your back. "Je Saison sue tu en as encore un pour moi." I know you've got one more for me.

You couldn't have known that his second Grand Prix win in a row would not only increase his self-confidence, but his stamina by one hundred percent as well. Right after his victory celebration and all the formalities, Charles had dragged you into his hotel room and you hadn't left the bed since. That was several hours and several orgasms ago.

Your pussy is sore, your thighs ache and the thin skin on your neck is visibly red from his beard scratching over it. But Charles doesn't care. As his fingers gently circle your most sensitive spot, his other arm wraps around you and his hand gropes your tit. As he rolls your nipple between two fingers, you lean your head back against his shoulder, moaning.

"Charles, I-"

"What do you want, ma belle? Huh? Do you want my fingers?" The fingers that were just circling your clit glide lower and he gently slides two inside you. "Tu sens comme tu es mouillée?" do you feel how wet you are for me? He curls his fingers, touching that sweet spot inside you that makes you squirm and see stars. "Ou est-ce moi qui fuis de toi?" or is it me that's leaking out of you?

You can't talk, can't even think as he spreads soft kisses on your neck and slowly fucks his come back into you, his fingers bringing you once again to your climax. Completely overstimulated and close to the pain threshold, you grab his wrist to push him away, almost whining, and indeed he lets you.

Only to then press you even closer to his muscular body and slide his cock home for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Your eyes roll back, your breathing is ragged. "Dètends-toi, ma belle." just relax, pretty one. Charles' hand, which was on your tit a moment ago, gently rests against your throat. As you moan, he can feel the vibration and his cock twitches noticeably.

"I know you're fucked out and tired, but I'm not finished with you yet." He places his thumb on your jaw and tilts your head so he can take a look at your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips swollen and you're so exhausted that you can only breathe him in. He loves what he does to you.

"And I know that you don't mind me fucking you when you're asleep." His thrusts are slow, but hard. You feel him everywhere. "Go to sleep, mon amour. I'm right here." Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, before nuzzling his face back into your neck, his hips slowly rocking you to sleep. "And when you wake up, I'll still be inside you. Just comme tu lahmes." just the way you like it.

[really-fanny-longbottom]

SECOND CHANCE - PART TWO

Pairings: Inner Cirlce x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Summary: Feyre finally meets Rhysand's favorite person.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive and tons of fluff.

Words: 2.9k

Author Note: Hi everyone! So, as promised, here is part two. I hope you like it just as much as the first one. I also want to thank you guys for your support and comments. It made me really happy. Enjoy!

The flight to the House of Wind was a quick one. Feyre recently learned that she loved to fly. She loved the light of the sun on her skin, the sweet breeze on her hair, but most of all, the view. Feyre was in Rhys' arms. He held her tight against his chest while she gazed at the city below her. She would never get tired of this view or the sounds. There were children laughing and playing by the Sidra, musicians playing melodies while some couples danced around, artists painting and people walking through the market buying fresh vegetables, flowers, among other things.

Cassian was flying ahead of them, and he, too, was enjoying the view of the city of starlight.

A few minutes later, the House of Wind came into sight. They made their way towards the house and landed on the balcony that was connected to the kitchen. Rhys set Feyre back on the floor, and the three of them headed towards the threshold of the balcony and entered the House.

As soon as they entered the kitchen, they could hear the laughter and the voices of the Inner Circle through the hallway that led to the main living room. Cassian was the first to move, Rhys went to follow his brother when he realized that Feyre hadn't moved from her spot by the entrance of the balcony. 

He turned around to approach her, and a frown made its way to his face. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I...hum..." Feyre realized at that moment that she was nervous to meet you. You weren't just someone. You are Rhys and Cassian's little sister. You are Azriel's best friend and probably something more. Rhys didn't mention your relationship with Amren and Mor while they talked about you, but she had absolutely no doubt that you were equally loved, cared, and important to them as well. 

She didn't want to make a bad impression. She didn't want to disappoint you, but more importantly, she didn't want you to dislike her. She hadn't thought about these things before, but now that she was here, only a hallway and seconds, maybe minutes away from meeting you? Feyre couldn't help but wonder what would happen if things didn't go as well as she wanted. What if she said something wrong and ended up hurting your feelings? She had no doubt that Amren would rip her head off if she dared to hurt you in any way. 

Rhys hand waved in front of her face and broke her from her worries and doubts. She met his violet eyes and saw concern in his face. Rhys spoke before she could. "Are you ok? I just called you three times, and you didn't even move." 

"I'm fine," Feyre said with a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes. The look on Rhys face told her that she didn't convince him. 

"Are you sure? You look a little pale, and your heartbeat is really fast." Rhys insisted, trying to make her talk to him so he could help her with whatever was troubling her.

Feyre bit her lower lip, something she had always done when she was nervous since she was a child. "I think.." Feyre paused, releasing a long breath before she continued. "I'm nervous to meet Y/N. What if I make a bad impression and she doesn't like me?"

Rhys gaze softens at her worries, and the frown is replaced by a smile on his lips. Putting a hand on her shoulder in order to provide her a little comfort, Rhys replies, "I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about. Y/N is sweet and kind, funny and sometimes a little loud" Rhys chuckles, earning a giggle from Feyre, "she's very talkative, like really but really talkative, your only worry should be at the fact that there's a very high chance that once she starts talking with you, she'll never shut up." 

Feyre can't help the laughter that erupts from her, smacking his bicep. She says, "Stop it."

"I'm serious! She talks a lot, she also loves to hear herself talk but," Feyre laughs more and Rhys joins her, a big smile on his lips "that's one of the reasons why she's such a good emissary. But seriously, Y/N gets along with everyone, even Beron, believe it or not. In all the years that I have known her, she never disliked anyone." 

Feyre relaxed immediately, her worries and doubts completely forgotten. "How old is she, by the way? I meant to ask you that earlier, but Cassian came into the room before I had the chance." 

"She's 122. She's still young." Rhys says with a hint of irony in his voice.

Feyre chuckled, replying with the same irony. "Right, young." 

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a new set of laughters sounded from down the hallway, making both of them look in the direction of the sound. Rhys turned again and met Feyre's gaze. "Ready?" 

She gave a firm nod and added, "Yes. Let's go meet the girl that gave you those." Feyre mentioned while gesturing to his hand where the tooth bites lay.

Rhys could only chuckle before he turned around and guided the way towards the living room where his family awaited, Feyre following him.

When Rhys passes the threshold to the living room, Feyre stops just for a second to give a deep breath before doing the same.

The moment she walked in, she saw you immediately. Your back was facing them. You were in the middle of your family, and you were talking with Amren while pointing at a jewelry box she held in her hand. A pair of earrings shined inside of the box. Rhys was only a few steps ahead of her when he called you by your nickname, "Little star." Feyre couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. She knew that the only thing on his features at that moment was love.

You turned your head around at the sound of your big brother's voice. "Rhys!" Was the only thing you managed to say before you started running in his direction.

Rhys opened his arms, and you jumped into his embrace, holding him tightly around his neck while he held you back, spinning you around in the process. 

Rhys put you down and kissed your cheek. "I missed you." He said.

"Rhys, I have only been gone for six days." You responded with a scoff and rolled your eyes. 

Rhys chucked at your antics, "How was Winter Court?"

"Cold and snowy." You answered, earning chuckles from your family at your irony. "It was good, you'll have a report on your desk tomorrow morning."

Rhys nodded before asking you, "Why did you return earlier? We were expecting you in only a few hours," Rhys questioned.

"Because I'm amazing at my job," you said. Amusement all over your face, your family scoffed, and Rhys lifted an eyebrow at you, clearly knowing there was another reason for your early arrival. You sighed, accepting defeat, "And because Kallias and Vivienne are newly mated, and I didn't want to be a witness of their frenzy bonding in case I ended up seeing something that I really shouldn't." 

Your family laughed, and it was now Mor's turn to talk. "Oh, you poor baby, still traumatized from walking in on Cassian with that pretty nymph?"

"Ugh! Please don't remind me of that. I swear I had nightmares because of it." You protested.

"Hey, no one told you to enter without knocking first. Lesson learned, sister." Cassian told you while ruffling your hair.

You swat his hand and look at him. "What are you talking about, Cass? You guys were in Rhys office. You weren't even supposed to be there in the first place." You turned to look at your other brother who happened to have his mouth open at the new information, obviously unknown to him. "I hope you cleaned every surface and thing you have there." You paused for a second before speaking again. "You know what? Thinking better, you should just replace everything. It may be safer that way." You finished with a disgusted face.

"What?!" Rhys asked with a firm voice. His High Lord voice. 

Cassian shot you an irritating look. "Dammed you Y/N. He didn't know that." Your only response was an innocent smile.

Rhys moved to his left in order to get an explanation from the events that occurred in his office, making Feyre enter your camp of vision, and that's when you locked eyes with her.

You approached her and started the conversation. "Hi, you must be Feyre. I'm Y/N." You said while extending your hand to her and offering a sweet smile.

Feyre grabbed your hand and shook it. "It's so nice to finally meet you." She told you while smiling.

Now, with Rhys out of the way, Feyre was able to have a better look at you. And Cauldron, Feyre couldn't take her eyes off you. You were beautiful, your white hair was loose and curled down to your waist, your blue eyes, and your slightly pale skin. And then, your dress. The dress was white and light blue, the skirt reached your feet and had a pattern in waves that reminded of snow, the sleeves went all the way to your wrists, fluffy white fur laid at the ends of your skirt and sleeves. You looked like an angel. 

"Thank you." You answered with a warm smile, and it was only then that Feyre realized she said that out loud. A hint of confusion settled at your face when you asked her, "Did Azriel tell you to say that?"

Now, it was Feyre's turn to be confused. Why would you think that? "No, he didn't. Why?"

"Oh, it's just...hum," you paused, your cheeks starting to blush a little. "That's what he calls me. It's his nickname for me." You answered, a little more blushed than before.

Feyre laughed. Azriel was right in calling you that. "I thought your nickname was 'Little star'." Feyre responded amused.

You chuckled and replied, "That's the nicknames the others use for me. Except Amren. She keeps calling me 'child'." You said with a roll of your eyes. 

"Because you are a child." Amren answered you from her place next to Mor while she was contemplating the earrings in the jewelry box. Rhys and Cassian are still arguing about the office events and Azriel watching them amused.

You turned your head to her. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Granny." You said with amusement in your voice.

Feyre stilled for a moment. Thinking that Amren was about to launch herself on you for what you just called her, but then she saw Amren laugh with a genuine smile on her lips before returning to stare at the earrings. Feyre relaxed and joined the laughter while looking at Amren's earrings.

You followed Feyre's gaze, and that's when you remembered. "Oh, right." You returned your eyes to Feyre. "Wait for a moment." You told her.

Feyre saw you turn back around towards the couch from where you pulled a dark purple bag and a small box.

You walked to Rhys and extended your arm to give him the bag. "Your gift." You said and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Rhys thanked you for your gift, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead, and returned to argue with Cassian. You made your way to Feyre, and when you reached her, you gave her the small box. "Here. It's for you."

Feyre accepted it, with surprise all over her face. She studied the box for a moment. It was a simple box made of wood and on top of it had a mountain with three stars above. The insignia of the Night Court. She looked at you again. "You brought me a gift?"

"Of course. I couldn't just bring gifts to everyone else and not one for you." You explained with a smile.

Feyre returned your smile, at your kindness, she asked with curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What is it?"

"It's a music box. To help you with your nightmares." Feyre stilled at your words, and after a few seconds, you continued. "It has all of Velaris' melodies. There's a few from the other courts, too, but it's mostly Velaris. It's enchanted so it can play for as long as you want or need. The melodies are soft and calm, so it will help you sleep and keep the nightmares away." Feyre had no words. She didn't know what to say. Just a few minutes ago, she was worrying about you not liking her, but here you are, offering her one of the best gifts she has ever received. Those worries and doubts seemed silly now. Her eyes darted to the music box again, but she looked up at the sound of your voice. "Azriel gave me one a few years ago. I used to have nightmares about my childhood and also from some of the things I saw over the decades as a consequence of being part of this world. I had hard nights where I couldn't sleep, haunted by those nightmares. So Azriel, ever the Spymaster, gave me one of these," you said, gesturing to the box. "I have played it every night since. It brings me comfort and reminds me that I'm safe and I'm not alone. I gave one to Rhys after he came back from Under the Mountain. It helped him a lot, so I thought of doing the same thing for you." You ended with the warmest smile.

Feyre's eyes were filled with tears at your gesture, she couldn't get any words out, so she just nodded and then opened the box. A soft and sweet melodie reached her ears, and Feyre immediately recognized the sound. It was the music that Rhys showed her that night on the cell Under the Mountain. The music that saved her life.

Feyre closed the box and launched for you, involving you in a tight embrace, one that you didn't hesitate to reciprocate. She still didn't have any words, so she said the only thing she could at the moment. "Thank you." She squeezed you even more. "Thank you so much." 

You held her for a few more seconds before letting go. You grabbed her free hand and said, "Mor and I are going shopping this afternoon. Why don't you come with us? I'd love to get to know you more."

"Yes. I'd love that, too. Thank you." Feyre answered, her voice trembling a little at the emotions she was still feeling. You squeezed her hand one last time before releasing and moved to stand next to Azriel. 

Rhys approached Feyre. "So, how did it go?"

Feyre could only smile, "Amazing. She's amazing. You and Cass raised her well."

Rhys chuckled, "Thank you, but we can't take all the credit. That's just how she is." Rhys nudged her with his shoulder, "I told you, you had nothing to worry about." 

Feyre smiled and squeezed the box that she still held. "Yeah, you were right." She said while looking at him. He was indeed right. You were sweet, kind and funny. Feyre noticed when she first walked into the room, how comfortable and relaxed everyone seemed around you. How little of an effort you had to make in order to make them laugh or smile, how the air was lighter and brighter, and how you illuminated the room just by your presence.

They fell in a comfortable silence, Feyre looked forward, and that's when she saw it. She couldn't believe it at first. She blinked her eyes a couple of times to make sure it was real and it was. Feyre remembers Mor telling her about Azriel. How he is more quiet, reserved, discret, and colder than the rest of them. Always with a stoic and indifference in his face and a rigid composure, she even saw that Azriel in the last days since she arrived in Velaris. But that's not the Azriel that is standing just a few feet away from her. No, this is a different Azriel. His shoulders are relaxed, there's a bright smile on his face, a softness in his eyes and his arm is around your waist with his hand resting on your hip, holding you close to him while he's looking at you talking about your last days in the Winter Court. This is not the Shadowsinger or the Spymaster. This is Azriel, just Azriel. The shadows are dancing around your feet and ankles, like they are happy too for your return, happy that you are safe and back to their master's side. Feyre knows at this moment that you two are not just friends and that there has to be something more going on.

Her suspicions were confirmed a few hours later at night when she decided to go to the library for a book so she could practice her reading before going to bed but ended up finding you and Azriel instead. He was sitting on the couch with his hands on your hips while you sat in his lap, straddling his waist, your hands on his hair while you two made out. And by the way both your cheeks were flushed, Feyre knew that you had been kissing each other for a while.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! I was thinking about mabye making a part about the night the batboys found the reader? Let me know in the comments if that's something you would like. 😊 Also, the beautiful dividers belong to @tsunami-of-tears

Prequel Part One

Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii

[dreamsinarcadia]

Pillow Talk

In which Son Heungmin can’t seem to let his girlfriend wiggle her way out of his arms

pairing: sonny x gf!reader

warning: tooth ache kind of fluff with mentions of smut

She loved her boyfriend—she really did. He had her whole heart in the palm of his hands and she trusted him with it; trusted him not to squeeze too hard on it—not to shatter it into fragments of love.

And she was certain that the feeling was mutual—he'd told her so himself, proclaimed it with eyes that were practically shaped into hearts as he gazed at her with a heart achingly deep sense of adoration; one that never failed to make her feel so unbelievably loved.

However... she’d be lying if she said he couldn't get a little frustrating sometimes. Like now, for instance.

“Heungmin, move.”

“No.” His response was instantaneous and very much final.

“I need to get up.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

His sass had one of her brows arch up, and she was sure she would've crossed her arms too had he not restricted her movement with his own—much stronger, might she add—limb. The man knew that her work schedule had been cleared for the entirety of December, and was determined to take this rare opportunity by the reigns.

Her lips parted—very much ready to have a go at him for the unwarranted attitude—when, instead of actual words, a light gasp left them; practically inaudible from how soft it was, but that didn't make what happened any less surprising.

His lips had found their way onto her neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses across the exposed area with an occasional—and very intoxicating—nip here and there. His arm, banded securely around her hip, pulled her closer to his side. The heat of it all practically flooded her vision with pink and she almost melted right in that very moment.

"Just a little longer," he muttered into her skin, lips making contact with the already hickey littered surface in a repeated pattern that shot tingles straight down her spine, "a month away from you was torture."

Work had forced her to return to Seoul for a good portion of November. She had, of course, missed Heungmin a great deal, but hadn’t been aware of how much he’d missed her until she had stepped past his threshold tonight only to be swept off her feet.

She genuinely couldn’t remember if he’d even managed to close the front door.

His hand slipped under her thin cotton t-shirt; cool palm resting against the flat of her stomach as he whispered sweet nothings into her ears in hopes of saving himself from a lecture–and she was afraid that it was very much working.

She was an absolute sucker for sweet moments like this.

But she was also recovering from a strenuous night, barely having gotten any sleep between multiple rounds of heaven sent pleasure. The man had been positively insatiable upon her return, and though this delighted her to no end, she was slick with sweat, peppered with hickeys, her legs felt like jelly and she wanted nothing more than a warm shower. The saccharine scent of sex was strong, and the air around them was stiflingly thick, despite the air conditioning being on full blast.

“Heungmin.”

“Hm?” His head tilted up, gaze focused on her with a sense of endearment only she was privy to receiving from him; the twitch of his lips showcasing his lovestruck smile in a show of vulnerability that, once again, only she had the pleasure of seeing on him.

His gaze was softened and practically swirling with that domestic love she knew he held for her; the one that would instantly ease all his muscles and have him actively seek her out just to hold her in his arms, to love on her like he always claimed she deserved.

When she didn't respond immediately, his grip tightened and he pulled her further into his side; to fit against him like she was meant to be there, like he was incomplete without her—and her, without him.

Ah, she was so stupidly weak to him when he got like this. Her hand reached up to brush cool fingers soothingly on the apple of his cheek.

“Aren’t you tired?” A valid question, seeing as though the man had only a few hours of rest between his match and her return.

“With you in my arms? Never.” His voice was soothingly calm, but when he propped an elbow on the pillow to look down at her, his eyes were blazing, pinning her to the spot. It raked over her appearance - the mussed hair, the love bites adorning the delicate curve of her neck, the rise and fall of her chest, the adorable flush of pink on her cheeks. The corner of his lips stretched to a wide grin.

When her hand dropped from his face, he was quick to catch it and press a kiss to her palm. He held it close to his heart. “Why?” He asked, knowing damn well the answer. “Are you tired?”

“…maybe.”

“Oh no! Rough night?”

She had to fight the urge to kiss the damn smirk off his face. He looked so damn pleased with himself.

“…okay fine, we can stay here a little longer.”

And then he was kissing her, his hands moving quickly to hook her legs around his waist and move her underneath himself. And suddenly, her arms and legs didn’t feel like jelly anymore. Instead, she’d felt as electrified—as if struck by lightning…only better. Much, much better. Because she couldn’t wrap her arms around lightning, or feel lightning’s heart skip against her own.

“Not for too long, we’ve been in bed for hours,” she protested weakly into the increasingly heated kiss. “I’m melting.”

“Mmm.”

“We have to eat.”

He pulled away to grin at her, a mischievous twinkle alight in his eyes. “Great idea,” he said. “Let’s do just that.”

Just when she was about to open her mouth to steer him clear of the inevitable course of action, he’d lunged straight for her neck to attack her with another fit of adoring kisses—ones that made her sigh in what she could only describe as contentment.

And then her t-shirt was back on the floor.

They didn’t leave the room till sundown.

[unabashedcandymaker]

Uncertain 01

Summary: When you find yourself unexpectedly pregnant, your future with your partners starts to feel uncertain.

Natasha x Reader x Bucky

Warnings: Uh, idk, lots of pregnancy talk, lots of doubt, lots of sexy times. It’s shameless, but it is what it is.

Words: 3.9k

Uncertain Masterlist

“Okay, you can do this,” you try to talk yourself up as you stare at your reflection in the mirror of the guest bathroom. “You can do this! They love you! They won’t…It’s not …” you take in a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop being a coward! Stop. Being. A. Cow-” You were cut off by the urge to throw up, yet again, and dove for the toilet. 

When you’re sure you're finished, you rinse your mouth out for good measure and chance another glance up to yourself. 

Now or never.

Nat and Buck, you’re partners, loves of your life, the most caring and loving people you’ve ever known, they’ll be up by now, probably waiting for you in the kitchen. Both had just come back the night before, back early from being gone all week. Both still blissfully unaware that you were about to turn their lives upside down.

“Okay, champ. Let’s get this over with.”

You clutched one of the dozen white plastic sticks lined up on the sink and made your way out of the bathroom.

Natasha was the first one to greet you as you crossed the threshold into the kitchen. “Good morning sweet girl! Are you feeling ok?” She stood from her seat at the bar, kissing you on the cheek as soon as you were within reach. “We were worried that you weren’t in bed when we woke up this morning.”

Bucky didn’t say much, but you could see the worried furrow of his brow above his coffee mug as he took a long sip.

“I’m good. But, uh, maybe you two should sit down. There’s something I need to say…” you said as you took half a step back and gestured to the couch in the living room. “Please.”

Sharing a quick look, so quick you’d almost missed it, they moved quietly, taking a seat beside each other on the plush couch. You start pacing, keeping yourself separated from them with the coffee table, pacing a line back and forth in the small room. Every several steps, you pause, giving them a meaningful look, even opening your mouth to force the words out, but you can’t. The stick still clutched in your hand still goes unnoticed by the other two.

“Are you breaking up with us?” Nat teases, a smirk ghosting across her lips.

Bucky whips his head towards the red head, then back to you, eyes wide and his whole body tensing. 

“Is that it? Do you want to break up?” He asks quietly.

“Fuck. No, of course not. But it’s serious! I’m…shit…well, I’m…” you sigh heavily. “I’m pregnant.” With a huff, you hold out the pregnancy test you’d been white knuckling.

Natasha is on her feet first, leaping gracefully over the coffee table and prying the stick out of your hand with ease.

“You’re sure? This is, this is for real?” She whispers as she examines it for herself. Bucky, who moved so fast, you didn’t process his movements at all, appearing as if out of thin air, is pressed behind Nat, his head nearly resting on her shoulder as his eyes are glued to the little pink plus sign on the test.

“As real as the other dozen I left lying on the sink in the guest bathroom,” you assure them both.

It’s silent. It’s silent for way too long. So long that your skin feels like it's going to crawl right off your body if someone doesn’t say something soon.

And you can’t wait for them anymore.

“Listen, I don’t know how this happened. We’ve always been so careful. I’ve stayed diligent on my birth control, even though we assumed you both were…sterile…and I swear there’s been nobody else…”

“Stop it,” Nat whispers, tears brimming in her jewel green eyes. “Nobody thought…no…nobody thought you’d…” she shudders for a moment before regaining her composure. “We know better than that. Right Buck?”

She looks back at him only to see a blank expression on his face. He’s not looking at her. He’s not looking at you. He’s not even looking at the test anymore, his gaze locked somewhere just beyond, on the carpet beneath his feet.

“Buck?” you whisper, taking a step forward to reach out to him, but he steps back, flinching involuntarily at your outstretched hand.

Your hand immediately falls to your side and it feels like your stomach has turned to lead.

“Bucky…” Natasha admonishes quietly, which pulls him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

His eyes go wide, almost fearful, and then just as fast, they go soft, and then he looks guilty.

“No…I…” he croaks, but shakes his head, as if he can shake off what looks to be an impending panic attack.

“Bucky, this doesn’t have to be anything,” you offer, voice barely a whisper. “We don’t have to let this be anything. I could, I don’t know, I could just…”

“I’m sorry,” he says as he skirts around you and Natasha, so graceful despite his upset. You barely hear the door click over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears as he closes it behind him.

He left. 

Fuck. 

Oh god, he left. He’s upset. You’ve upset him. You broke him. He’s never going to forgive you for this. You should have known better. Oh god, why did you have to tell them? Wouldn’t it have been so much easier to have taken care of this problem on your own? You shouldn’t have told him. He’s mad. And he should be. You’ve done this to them. You’ve done this to them both.

Natasha has your face in her hands, gently cooing, but you can’t understand what she’s saying.

“...hey, stop it, you did nothing wrong…” her gentle voice breaking through the ringing in your ears.

“Tash…I…” you barely manage to croak out.

“No! You’ve not done anything wrong. These things happen,” she assures you, kissing you gently on the forehead. 

You must have been thinking your thoughts out loud.

“But…Bucky?”

“He’s fine. He’s gonna be fine. He’s just…he just needs a little time.”

You aren’t convinced. 

He was so upset. 

“What about you, sweet girl? How are you? How do you feel? How long have you been sitting with this on your own?” She asks.

“Just, uhm,” a long breath shudders in and out of your chest. “Just today for s-sure, but, uh, it’s had to have been a few days I think. I don’t r-really know.

Your noncommittal shrug must give you away which earns you a pointed glare.

“Maybe a week,” You answer.

She nods. “The whole time we’ve been gone?”

“I didn’t buy the tests until this morning. I wasn’t brave enough on my own.”

“Listen to me, no decisions need to be made right now, right? Just give it a few days, let everyone process. You still need time to process.”

“He’s so upset. I’ve upset him.” you whisper, your hands coming up to hold her wrists.

“No, you’ve not. He’s not upset. At least not with you. This was just…a surprise. A wonderful surprise, but a surprise no less.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until her thumb swiped a tear from your cheek.

“What do you say we get you in the shower, my love? That might help you feel a little better.” She suggests.

“Yeah, ok, I guess that does sound nice.” You agree, nodding your head slowly. 

When she lets go of your face, you hold one hand close, bringing your lips to her palm, kissing it. She smiles so beautifully, then disappears into the bathroom.

She’s only gone for a minute, then she’s in front of you again, helping you undress, just like any other time. You stay quiet, barely sniffling anymore as she strips you, then watch as she bares herself to you. She takes your hand and gently leads you into the shower that is now running hot, the steam billowing up around you.

“I’m sorry,” you finally break the silence.

“Hmm?”

“What if he doesn’t come back? What if I’ve ruined e-everyth-thing?” You admit your fear, screwing your eyes shut as more tears stream down your cheeks. 

“No.” She says sternly as she pulls you into her body, your face nuzzled in her neck as she strokes your hair. “You should never be sorry for this. This is a beautiful thing that’s happened, don’t you see that?”

“But what about Buck?”

“He’s scared. But he will come around. He always does, doesn’t he? He just needs a little more time. He’ll be in this with us, 100%.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“But what if he does? Sweet girl, just take a minute to breathe. He’s going to come back through that door, just like he always does. He just needs a little space to process.”

Natasha has always been perfect like that. Always knew exactly what to say. She always knew exactly what to do. You think that’s what made your time together so special, when it’s just you and her. She knows you. Truly and completely. 

You live for moments like this with her. Her hands soothing down your back and up into your hair, her steady fingers massaging your scalp so perfectly. She knows how to touch you, where to touch you, when to touch you. Everything with Nat is always perfect.

It must be the same when it’s just her and Bucky, you assume. There’s no doubt that she devotes the same attention and care to both her partners. She always has this magical way of making every moment, every interaction, so unique and exquisite…like you, and only you, get to see this tiny sliver of herself that she saves for you, and only you. It is always in these moments where she is so soft and delicate. And you cherish it. And her.

She washes your hair first, not letting you lift a single finger to help or return the favor. Then, she grabs the special body wash, the one she’d specially ordered from France as an anniversary gift. She uses only her hands, bringing the soap to a rich lather, then starts with your shoulders, down your arms, across your back, and then lingers around your belly.

It’s not like there’s anything there yet, no noticeable change in any way whatsoever, but she slows her movements, lingering just below your navel, where the small cluster of cells that is to be your baby are supposed to be. Her fingers linger there, tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Her touch is so warm and so soft, so distracting that you barely notice she has dropped to her knees in front of you.

“Tash…” you moan.

Then she’s kissing you, from your belly button, and down to your mound. Your release is so close, so alarmingly close, as her tongue dips to your slit and prods teasingly. Her hair is wet and silky slick as your fingers tangle in it.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m gonna-” you choke out as you are throttling closer and closer to your climax.

“That’s it, my love, come for me,” she coaxes, bringing your knee up to prop over her shoulder, opening you up wider for her exploring mouth.

Her fingers part your folds and then she slips two inside you, pushing all the air out of your lungs. She barely has a chance to curl them as she sucks your clit into her mouth, causing your release to crash over you. Waves and waves of white hot bliss thrum throughout your entire body.

She doesn’t let up until you’ve stopped shaking.

Her lips make their way back up your body, not leaving a single inch untouched. When they find yours, you moan as you taste yourself on her. She moves slow, unhurried, gently guiding you back under the stream of water, rinsing off the rest of the bubbles from your body.

“You taste different.” She purrs as she rests her forehead against yours.

You try to touch her too, to let your hands roam down the curves of her body, but she tuts as she brings them back to wrap around her shoulders.

“Please, Tash, I wanna feel you,” you beg.

She moans, your words affecting her just like they always have.

“Yeah, but not here. Let me get you dry and in bed, then I’ll let you do whatever your sweetest little heart desires.”

In a whirlwind of movement, you’re both out of the shower, mostly dry, and tangled up in one another, rolling around on top of your shared, unmade bed. Your hands can’t get enough as they grasp and caress every inch of her flaming hot skin. You dig into her curves, greedily exploring her body as if it were your first time all over again.

But, before you can get between her legs, she’s got you on your back, your hands pinned under hers beside your head, and one thigh slotted between yours. She meets you with a fiery gaze that has you reluctant to even breathe.

“I love you. You and Bucky, you’re my heart. And I need you to know, whatever happens, I’m with you. Always. If it were up to me, which I know it’s not, but if it were, there’s no question…I’d keep this baby.

“I never dreamt I could ever have any of my own. That part of me was taken away so long ago, and I try not to dwell on it, trying to never let myself linger over what was denied me…before I met you. The very first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew you were it. I could see a future with you…with us, all of us. I saw a family. Not in the traditional sense, but it still would have been so good, because it would have been ours.

“I want this with you. And I have a feeling that deep down, Bucky will too.”

Aaaaand you’re crying. 

Your previous attempt at a sexual conquest is forgotten as you cling to her. She settles down beside you, pulling you close, tucking you under her chin. The blankets are brought up and cocooned around the both of you as she holds you just as tight as you are holding on to her.

There’s a dip in the mattress behind you and another warm body is pressing against your back.

Bucky. 

He smells of sweat as he nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his nose grazing along the length of your neck before settling into the curve.

One of Natsha’s hands move from your middle and up into Bucky’s hair, carding her fingers through his dampened locks.

“M’ sorry,” he mumbles into your skin, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. I know I’m a moron. I shouldn’t have left you…shouldn’t have froze…I was…I was so fuckin’ scared…still am…I’m gonna fuck this all up, I know it…I’m not gonna be good at this…not at all…but I need you to know, if this is what you want, I want it too.”

You sob as you struggle to roll over, Nat having a good chuckle as she helps you untangle from blanket so you can reach Bucky. She ends up curled around your back as Bucky shimmies his large body down the bed and nuzzles into your bare chest.

Being settled between your two loves, warm and content and safe, you let your emotional exhaustion take over, pulling you into a dreamless sleep.

There’s no way to tell how much time has passed, but when you open your eyes, the golden light of the sun setting outside your window tells you you’ve slept the entire day away. Your body feels heavy and languid, but blissfully satisfied. Sleepily, you reach an arm out to your side only to find that side empty and cool. Your brows furrow, reaching out for the other, finding it warmer, but equally as empty.

There’s rustling around your knees, and as you continue to wake up, you note a heavy pressure between your thighs, and then warm, wet heat scalding you almost from the inside out. With a great amount of effort, you pry your eyes open to see a large mass under the blankets near the bottom of your bed.

“Sh-shit,” you moan as you feel a thick tongue push through your folds.

“Different, right?” Natasha’s muffled voice comes from under the blanket.

Bucky hums in agreement and you can feel it vibrate all the way up your spine, earning another wanton moan to spill from your lips. Hands on your thighs, one warm and calloused, another smooth and cool, is spreading you wide open. Another swipe of his tongue has your back arching off the bed, your hands scrambling to rip off the blanket, reaching to tangle your fingers in his hair.

Natasha crawls up beside you, her fingers caressing the swell of your breast, trailing down over the hardened nipple before pinching it.

“Does Bucky’s mouth feel nice, sweet girl?” She coos in your ear, her lips ghost over your sensitive skin, before she takes your lobe between her teeth.

Your thighs clench and Bucky moans as he spreads them back wide. He released one knee just to bring his fingers to your soaked entrance, teasing one finger inside, and then two. And that’s all it takes to send you careening off the cliff and into your release just as quick as the first time.

“What a sweet girl,” Nat beams proudly, still thumbing one nipple, and then moves to the other.

Bucky is climbing up your body, his scruff tickling all along the way as he places sloppy kisses all over your belly and chest, until he reaches your neck. His mouth is hungry and demanding against the sensitive flesh of your throat, threatening to suck a mark there. His cock is hard as it bobs just above your mound.

With weak hands, you push at his chest, and he automatically falls back on his heels, looking only a little concerned that he might have hurt you. You whip your head to Nat and pull her face to yours, searing her lips with a scorching kiss.

“What do you want, my love?” she asks, your teeth clashing with hers.

“Mmmm, wanna see you ride Bucky’s cock.”

It’s rare you ever take the reins in the bedroom with these two natural dominants, but oh god, for you, and only for you, they’d do anything you asked of them. They might as well have been putty in your hands, the way they bend to your will at any given moment.

Bucky takes your hands that you hold out towards him and pulls you up, pulling you against his chest and plants a kiss to your lips, then lets you push him onto his back where you’d been laying. You straddle his thighs, pulling Natasha with you, her back to your front, and you guide her down onto the thick head of Bucky’s cock. With one hand around her waist, you can feel her breath hitch, just like every single other time either of you try to take his thick length even with proper preparation. But she manages beautifully, just like always.

Your other hand trails down between her legs until you can feel where both of your loves meet each other.

“Tell me, baby, how does he feel?” You whisper in her ear, holding her tight as you roll your hips, then up, then back down, pulling her along with you, until she is settled down on his entire length again.

Bucky’s hands are on her waist, helping her follow your movements. Your fingers dance along her folds until they swipe across her clit, earning a heady moan, her head falling back onto your shoulder.

“How does it feel to have him so deep, baby?” you ask her. She can only shake her head as moans spill from her mouth. “Will you come for me? Both of you? Will you come like this?”

Your voice is soft, and oh so sweet, exactly the way that makes them melt in the palm of your hand.

You roll your hips, again and again, fingers flicking over her clit in time with your movements, speeding up their speed as you start bouncing faster and faster. Bucky has a white knuckle grip on Nat’s hip, looking terribly pained as his back is starting to arch up off the bed ever so slightly. He’s so close, you can see it in the screwed up expression on his face, and you can almost hear his silent prayer for Nat to finish before he does.

You pinch her clit between your fingers and slam your hips down with hers maybe a little too harsh, but it does the trick. Tasha is screaming her release as Bucky groans his own as well.

Holding her shaking body against your own feels as if you also came again.

You ease your fingers from her, moving slowly to bring her down easily. Bucky helps by guiding her up and off his length, his cock falling out of her with a slick ‘pop’. You try to lean to the side, guiding her to lay down with you, but she's too fast. You’ll never know how she moves the way she does, but somehow she has managed to switch places with you, rolling you to the middle as your head hits the pillow, secure between both their bodies.

And it’s nice, feeling them on either side of you. It feels safe. And warm…maybe a little too warm if you were honest, but it was comforting nonetheless.

Arms and legs and hair are all tangled into one large mess as the three of you lay together, not a stitch of clothing between you. The quiet that settles is comfortable, and for a moment, you forget about everything else that happened earlier today.

“Are you ok?” She asks you as she burrows into your sweat damp hair.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I think so. What about you?”

“Mmm, perfect,” she answers.

“And you, Buck? Are you ok? I know what you said, but you don’t have to be. If this isn’t the right time, then it’s not the right time.”

Natasha freezes on your other side, but doesn’t say anything.

“Nah, I’m good. Really. Steve knocked some sense into me,” he chuckles, also snuggling into the mattress and you to get more comfortable.

“You mean he kicked your ass for being so stupid,” Nat grumbles, nuzzling deeper into your hair.

“Hey now, he wasn't stupid,” you admonish weakly. “It’s a big deal. This is a potential whole ass brand new human being we are talking about.”

“Nah, she’s right, I was being stupid. I mean, yeah, I’m scared. I’m more terrified of this than I have been about anything else in my entire life. I don’t know how to be a father…I’m barely a good partner, but…” he takes a deep breath and smiles as he releases it. “But as long as I have the both of you, I know everything will be ok.”

“Like I would ever let you fuck this up,” Nat quips, words still muffled as she softly kisses the soft spot under your ear..

You giggle as Bucky blindly swats at Natasha, earning a slap in return. Which quickly escalates to the two of them flailing at each other over your body, hitting each other in a playful manner while you can only lay there and laugh between them.

“By the way,” Bucky adds as everyone calms down again, “Steve says congrats. And that he’ll be exceptionally upset if we don’t name it after him.”

“Oh my god,” Nat groans, earning another peal of laughter from you.

And at least for this moment, your future doesn’t seem as uncertain as before.

Chapter 2

[azrielhours]

Stolen Away

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Az and reader are in a new and secret relationship. They keep trying to have intimate moments together, but someone always interrupts them. Eventually Az acts up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One thing you loved about the early morning was how much intimacy it offered with little to no effort. You closed your eyes, basking in the sun, and felt an even greater warmth when Azriel silently snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into his strong torso and let yourself relax as he placed kisses into your hair. After months of dancing around each other with your feelings, it was a dream to finally be able to claim him, though it was still new, still undisclosed to the rest of your friends. With Azriel being such a private male, you didn’t mind; it also made you cherish the moments you two shared outside the confines of your bedrooms all the more, as fleeting and few as they came.

You set about making some food, and Azriel went to make the two of you some coffee in comfortable silence. You hummed, enjoying the domesticity of it all when suddenly Az perked up as his shadows whispered in his ears. “Someone’s coming,” he said. The two of you put distance between yourselves and acted naturally. Sure enough, Feyre entered the kitchen with a warm smile.

“Morning,” she greeted. The two of you returned the greeting. She had two coffees in her hand. “I brought you one, (Y/N). Sorry Az, I didn’t think I’d run into you, otherwise I would’ve gotten you one too,” she explained apologetically. You had to school your features to hide your hesitation, smiling at her.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet.” You took the cup she gave you, and avoided looking in Azriel’s direction as he subtly put the mug he’d pulled out for you back into the cupboard. You felt a small hurt in your heart at the action, but you brushed it aside for now. You and Feyre shared a deep love for the drink, and with her typically being awake early to tend to her work, you should have anticipated this. When you finished making the food, the three of you sat at the table to eat. You glanced at Azriel, and he gave you a small smile and shook his head faintly to tell you he didn’t mind what happened, though you still felt a minuscule sense of loss.

When you all finished, you lagged to let Feyre leave first. Az also discreetly slowed as he walked behind Feyre and in front of you, knowing what you needed. He silently reached his hands to you behind his back, which you happily took. You leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss in the middle of his back, minding his wings, and the two of you let go as you left the threshold of the kitchen.

~

The two of you didn’t cross paths much throughout the day, but you could always look forward to the quiet evenings you tried to have in the library. Azriel being a bookworm just like you made this perfectly justifiable to the rest of the group, so it required far less sneaking. You were seated by the hearth, reading as you waited for him. Upon hearing the door close, you perked up in excitement. Sure enough, Azriel’s beautiful face found yours across the room, the two of you smiling in adoration. He made his way over. You stood and let him greet you; he placed his hand behind your head and pulled it directly into his chest, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. When he pulled away, you placed your hands behind his neck and he had to bend from the force of you pulling him down to make up for his towering height, and he chuckled deeply as you peppered him with kisses, making you laugh as well. “I missed you,” he said. You looked down, blushing, and he laughed again at the sudden shyness that overcame you.

“Me too,” you said. The two of you sat in your seats across from each other and began talking about the day you had. You loved these evenings, loved hearing him open up to you more than he did in a larger crowd, and you enthusiastically nodded along to his rare display of animation. His shadows snaked their way around your ankles and wrists playfully, and you admired how he glowed in the dim light of the fire. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the two of you halted your conversation. You peered over Azriel’s shoulder and he also turned to see who interrupted you. Elain stood in the doorway curiously at the sight. Despite the twinge of disappointment you felt knowing your intimate moment with Azriel ceased at that exact moment, you smiled at her and beckoned for her to enter. She made her way over. As she did, Azriel picked up the book near his seat to play the part he needed.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said.

You smiled and shook your head. “You didn’t.” You patted the seat next to you to invite her to sit, and she smiled back as she took her place beside you.

“Nesta’s been trying to get me into her reading habits lately,” she explained. You nodded along. You looked over at Azriel to find him reading his novel, that outspokenness from before concealed once more. You and Elain chatted for a few more minutes before she turned to her book, so you did the same, the three of you reading in silence. You snuck a glance at Azriel over your book. You caught his gaze over his book. He gave you a wink, and you had to turn back to your book to suppress your smile. A while later, Elain announced she would be retiring for the night. You also got up to leave with her, lest she suspects anything or feels excluded. As you followed her out, you let your hand graze Azriel’s shoulder, and he lightly caressed you with his wing in return.

~     

The next day, you went to Feyre’s studio in the morning, coffee in hand to return the favour from the day before. You walked around, admiring the new art in the light filtering through the window. You felt the familiar feeling of shadows snaking their way around your ankles in greeting, and you looked up to find Azriel smiling at you warmly from across the studio. You smiled back and made your way over to him. “How’d you know I was here?” you asked. You got on your tip toes and leaned forward, and he bent down slightly, giving you access to kiss his cheek, hands lightly placed on your hips to support you.

“Spymaster, remember?” he said with a cheeky grin. You laughed and swatted him. “I got you something.”

You perked up some more. “Really?”

“Yes.”

You waited expectantly, raising your brows. He raised his brows back, mimicking you, and you laughed again. “What are you waiting for?”

He tsked. “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’m virtuous enough.” He chuckled. Then he stopped, clearing his throat, and stepped back. Your heart fell slightly knowing what was happening yet again, but you tried not to show it. You turned towards one of the paintings nearby.

“Well, well.” Rhys’s deep voice rang into the studio as he sauntered in, and you couldn’t help but blush. When you turned to look at him, feigning composure, you weren’t shocked to find a smug look on his face as he took you two in. “Lovely running into you here. Both of you.”

“Morning, Rhys,” you said. Azriel grumbled something under his breath, making you smile to suppress your amusement.

“Here I thought I’d come and find one lovebird, imagine my surprise when I find two.” Despite his teasing, his smile turned genuine. It almost made you feel a twinge of guilt at the hiding. Almost.

“I was just coming to drop off some coffee for Feyre,” you explained.

“Ah,” Rhys said. He turned to Azriel to hear his explanation.

Before he could speak, you thought you’d cover for him. “Azriel came to find me because he had something to give me.”

Rhys’s smile turned feline. Shit. So much for a cover. “Do tell, Azriel. What were you going to give sweet (Y/N)?”

“I was just about to show her,” Azriel said calmly.

“My apologies,” Rhys purred, amusement unabashed.

“Rhys – oh,” Feyre walked in and stopped at the sight of everyone crowding around. She looked at you, then at Azriel, back at you. You felt your blush deepen, and Feyre smiled in a devilish manner that matched her mate’s.

“This was the only lovebird I thought I’d find,” Rhys smiled at his mate.

“I just came to give you your coffee,” you offered weakly to Feyre.

“Yes, she just so happened to run into Azriel on her way here,” Rhys added. They smiled knowingly at each other, and you glared at your High Lord.

“Well, we’d hate for you two to be interrupted,” Feyre said. Rhys looked over at you again and winked, to which you flipped him off. Rhys laughed as he sauntered away, taking Feyre with him.

You looked over at Azriel, who gave you a small, defeated smile. You smiled back, and the two of you made your way out of the studio, following your High Lord and Lady.

~

That evening, you all ended up having a late dinner to make sure Cassian would be there for it, with him returning from a long mission. After eating, you all sat in comfortable silence in the lounge, swapping stories and catching up. You were sat next to Feyre and Elain, the males were sprawled on the other couch. Elain announced that she would be heading to bed, to which Feyre agreed. She got up and took her mate’s hand, leading him upstairs to their room. That left you, Cassian, and Azriel. Cassian turned to you. “Feyre was telling me that Rhys has been giving you trouble,” he smiled.

You smiled back. “He’s a busybody through and through.”

Cass laughed. “Only when it matters,” he said, wiggling his brows at you suggestively.

“Go back to whatever Court you just came from,” you quipped.

He laughed again. “Let’s go out, come on. I just got home and they all want to sleep,” he gestured upstairs.

“Cass, it's late. Aren’t you tired?”

He shook his head. “Let’s do something fun.” You shook your head no, laughing. “Fine, let’s at least go to the backyard to breathe a little” he stood and offered his hand. You took it and made sure not to glance at Azriel as you did, allowing Cassian to lead you outside. He continued to tell you about his mission, and as much as you loved Cassian and his company, a small part of you remained aware of the fact that Azriel stayed indoors. As the night continued, you assumed Azriel had also retired for the night since he was nowhere to be seen.

You gave up on your hope that you’d finally have a moment alone with him, sighing to yourself in disappointment as you watched Cassian gesture dramatically in his storytelling. You started to slump in your seat, not feeling the need to be alert due to Azriel’s absence, when you suddenly heard the door to the house open and close. You and Cassian turned to see who it was, and you were stunned to see Azriel frustratedly marching towards you, eyes hard with determination.   

“What –” you began, but you gasped in shock when Azriel suddenly swooped down to you and placed his arms beneath your lower back and knees, and powerfully shot skyward. You yelped, wrapping your arms around his neck at the sudden ascension, and you heard Cassian’s laugh bellow beneath you as Azriel flew away with you in his arms. You just held on as you felt your heart race, letting him take you away. His flight became smoother as the distance grew from the Town House, and he finally neared the House of Wind, gently descending. As he landed, he finally looked down at you, his gaze softer but still serious. You gazed up at him tentatively, waiting for him to say something. He finally offered a small smile and gently released you to stand.

“I’m tired of hiding,” he finally said, his baritone voice making you shiver.

You swallowed once and gave it a thought. “Me too.”

He nodded once, and the intensity in his eyes made you break eye contact. He gently placed his fingers beneath your chin and guided you to look back in his eyes, which now held some amusement, making you relax. “Sorry.”

You laughed lightly. “It’s okay. You know how Cassian can talk for ages,” you said. He nodded. The two of you usually operated perfectly in silence, though this time around, something felt different about it. You broke eye contact again, wringing your fingers apprehensively in the tense air. When you looked at him again, he seemed to understand. He kissed your forehead and stepped back a pace.

“I just wanted to give you your gift.”

“Oh – oh, yes,” you said.

He smiled somewhat roguishly, and your heart skipped a beat. You could never get used to how devastatingly handsome he was. He reached behind and pulled out a small box, handing it to you. You opened it and gasped in shock to find a necklace inside. A gold necklace with a beautiful sapphire gemstone, the same colour as his siphons.

You looked up to find him smiling sweetly at you. “Baby steps,” he said gruffly. You gave an inquisitive look. “To let everyone know you’re mine.” You felt your heart swell with pride at his words, and you threw your arms around his neck. He laughed as he caught you, his steps unfaltering, squeezing you to his chest. You stayed there for a long time, breathing in his scent, savouring the way his body moved beneath you as he breathed. When you finally let go, you had no words to say. You just smiled up at him with tears in your eyes, your heart overflowing with affection. He kissed your forehead once more, took your hand, and led you into the house. On your walk to your bedroom, all you could think about was how freeing it was, to love someone so deeply that it made life feel abundant, how freeing it was to live your dreams of loving him outside the confines of sleep, how freeing it was to let the love be known. To not hide.

~

The next morning, as the two of you entered the Town House late into the morning, hand in hand, cobalt siphons on his hands and a sapphire gemstone on your chest. You felt nothing but that sense of abundance as you smiled at your friends who took the two of you in.

“We are, um, together,” you announced.

“Yeah, no shit,” Mor said.

“Very unexpected,” Feyre said.

“Shitting my pants as we speak,” Cassian said, earning a smack from Nesta.

You two took your place at the table, and you glanced at Rhys, who smiled smugly. We’ve known all along, he said. You blushed.

Some Spymaster he is, Feyre added, making you laugh.

You finally looked at Azriel, letting your affection show openly, and it only increased when he did the same.

“He literally stole her away last night,” Cassian said to the group, making a swooping gesture with his hands.

Azriel didn’t miss a beat. “Do unto others what was done unto you.” That earned laughs all around.

“It would seem he’s stolen her away a long time before that,” Feyre said. Stolen your heart, at least, she said mind to mind. You nodded. We’re happy for you.

Yeah, you said back. I’m happy too. 

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

ok so i'm gonna try posting fragments of longer fics that probably won't see the light of day elsewhere.

this one is from a fic about cytherea's ascent to lyctorhood, from loveday's point of view.

this particular scene is titled "cristabel being a manipulative weirdo" in my drafts.

Loveday had yelled at God. It was an accident. Mostly.  

She had gone to talk to him about Cytherea. It was preposterous to her that there was nothing he could do. He was God, wasn’t he? He was supposed to be able to fix things. God should be able to keep one girl from dying.  She had tried to reason with him, and then she had begged, and then she had called him a series of increasingly blasphemous names, and then she had thrown one of his teacups at the wall. Now, she was curled up in a disused corner of Canaan House, like a child, trying not to hyperventilate too loudly. 

She knew she had made a mistake. She knew that she had been stupid and impulsive and maybe ruined Cytherea’s chances of staying here. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she got Cyth packed off back to the Seventh.

But goddamn, that teacup had made a good sound. 

She heard footsteps behind her. She dug her face further into her knees, which was useless, she was in full view. Just her fucking luck, she supposed, that she would be caught like this. She could tell who it was, too. Cristabel Oct’s weighted net clinked when she walked. 

“There you are,” said Cristabel. She passed by Loveday’s shoulder and then turned and dropped, cross legged, in front of her. Loveday’s forehead had been pressed to the tops of her knees, but she lifted her chin to look at her. Cristabel was smiling at her. Cristabel had a very sweet smile, actually. It was a smile that spoke of kindness and wisdom, with pleasant crinkles around her stormy eyes. Part of her dared to hope, for a moment, that she was actually about to be comforted. “I heard about what happened,” 

“From who?” It was a genuine question.

“I just thought we should talk about it.” Cristabel paused. “I’ve heard your adept call you ‘Lovie’. May I call you ‘Lovie’?”

"Nobody calls me that but Cyth."

Cristabel cocked her head, birdishly. "Understood."

Loveday had nothing to say in response to that. Instead, she said, "You talked to John, didn't you? He's the one who told you about it. Did he ask you to talk to me?"

"You've really been struggling to settle in here, haven't you? It's understandable, given the circumstances."

Loveday wanted very badly to believe this. She had seen Cyth talking with Augustine, the way they got along, the way he offered her an arm when she needed one and the endless tact with which he discussed her illness. Augustine had given Loveday hope, thin and rare as it may be. She had seen Cytherea laughing with Pyrrha, and hanging onto Mercymorn's shoulder, and playing chess with Anastasia. She had seen Casseopeia sit with her while she rested, chatting comfortably as old friends. 

"What do you know about my circumstances?"

Across from her, Cristabel's smile didn't waver. "I know that you love her. You're not the only person here who loves her, you know. She's among friends with us."

But she had also seen the way Cytherea looked after a day spent with these people, rumpled and wilted and barely conscious as soon as she was in the privacy of their room. Loveday usually had to help her into bed, in a way she never had back home. She sagged the second she crossed the threshold into privacy, aged thirty years, was usually unable to speak in sentences. "I know that some of you care about her," was all she said. 

She pulled her hand away. "Yes, it's like that. I just–"

Cristabel reached out and grabbed one of Loveday's hands. Cristabel's hand was warm and calloused and strong. "But it can't possibly compare to how you love her, can it? Cassy loves Mercymorn, but nobody loves her like I do. It's the same for you two, isn't it?"

"You just what?" Cristabel's voice was very gentle. When no more was forthcoming, she said, "You just hate to see her hurting, don't you?"

Loveday found herself nodding, silently. She was choked up, actually choked up. She hadn't cried in front of another person since she was a child.  

Cristabel sighed. It was a sigh which suggested that the heart of the issue had been found; the indulgent sigh of a parent who had discovered the cause of a tantrum, and understood. "I know it's difficult, Loveday, but you have to trust him."

Loveday's head snapped up. "What?"

"Teacher has big plans for her, for all of them, and it might not make sense right now, but one day all our suffering will mean something. I know that. I am asking you to trust him."

"What if it was Mercy?" asked Loveday. "Would you be saying this if Mercymorn was coughing up her own lungs? Would you watch Mercy die, would you watch her lose the ability to take care of herself, would you watch her body eat itself alive, and give me platitudes about faith? Would you sit back and watch her die and trust him?"

Loveday did not deck her, but it was a near thing. Instead she stood very abruptly, taking her sharp, conciliatory pleasure in Cristabel's flinch, and walked away.

Cristabel seemed to genuinely consider this. Eventually, she said, "My love for God and my love for Mercymorn are the same. There is no separating them. If it was his will that I care for her the way you care for Cytherea, then what else could I do? I know that he loves Mercy, and he loves me, and he wouldn't ask us to suffer unless it was really necessary. God demands things, Lovie. It's what he does. It will always be unpleasant, but we have to try."

[lilyrachelcassidy]

For your one day request - what about

"Don't look at me like that...please."

Words: 635

Warnings: None:)

Coming home 

Tommy entered the threshold of his vast mansion, all smeared in mud and soaked in rain. It was already after midnight, and so he tried to make the least noise he could, carefully closing the door behind him and minding his steps as much as he could.

After all, he had promised his wife -- Y/N -- that he wouldn’t be returning home late at night, seeing as it peppered her mind with many redundant thoughts. He had told her to do his best to keep up to this oath. And try as might he had tried to, business was business, and some things came prior the others.

So he had broken his word, tonight.

Taking a few long strides, he nearly reached the bottom of the stairs when he heard a voice from upstairs: “Tommy, is that you?” Then a sound of trot reverberated in the mansion, and soon, freshly bathed and dressed up in a black silk negligee, Y/N appeared within his vision.

At first, she opened her mouth to say something -- perhaps a rebuke, perhaps a loving greeting at his final return. However, at the sight of her husband, she froze, startled, her mouth slightly agape and eyes fixed on his filthy attire.

“Don’t look at me like that... please,” said Tommy, nervously picking the bridge of his nose.

“Wh- what... what happened to you?”

He deflected his gaze, instead glancing in the direction of his office; a place where he kept, as for now, all of the needed equipment -- a bottle of Irish Whiskey, and a supply of tranquilizing pills. “Matters of business.”

“Oh, how so?” said Y/N, incredulously. “Did that involve a wrestle in clag too?”

“Somehow... Involved Russians and guns."

Sighing, Y/N’s stern look turned now into something on the verge of worry and compassion. “Tommy.” She started walking down the stairs, quickly reaching downstairs, right where her husband was standing. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head in response. “Not tonight.”

Understandigly, she nodded. After all, it was something she had to deal with daily and maybe she wasn't even supposed to be feeling surprised. "Okay..."

Finally, for the first time this night, a soft smile welled up on Y/N’s lips, and not minding dirt or the fact that she had just taken a bath, she clasped her hands around his neck and laid her chin on his shoulder. Intuitively, his arms snaked around her waist, his head lolling to the front so that he got a sweet, coconut whiff of her shampoo.

Such a soothing scent for home. The scent of familiarity.

“You know, I’m dirty,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly with a tiny shrug. He enjoyed the embrace but, with his better judgment, decided to remind her of that fact.

It was Y/N’s turn to shrug. “I don’t mind a little bit of dirt. And I missed you. A lot.”

“Back to you, sweetheart,” he replied swiftly, happy he could hold a woman he unboundedly loved in his arms. “As hell.”

For a minute or two, they stood in the middle of the room, in a welcome hug and ecstatic with each other’s presence. Not before long, however, the moment was interrupted by a blaring wail of Charlie upstairs and, though grudgingly, Y/N forced herself to pull away. She glanced at Tommy, knowingly, and grunted.

“How about...” she started, an idea inkling in her head. “I go check in on Charlie. And you...” She pointed a finger at him. “go and prepare a bath. For both of us.”  

An idea was accepted with a nod. “Shall do, Mrs.Shelby.” Tommy smiled at her and winked.

Then she walked away in the direction of a playroom. And happily, Tommy reflected on how grateful he was for having such an understanding woman by his side.

_____

A/N: To @notyour-valentine, thank you for sending in your request!:D I enjoyed writing that so much and I hope you’ll enjoy reading as much. Also, JUST A REMINDER, there’s still a possibility of sending some requests in. In case you are interested;) 

[comandersprings]

On Deaf Ears

Note: I want to thank a friend of mine for helping me come up with the title. They go by x_They_Who_Remain_x on AO3 (you can find this fic there too) and their writing is awesome, please go check them out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,148

Summary: Kieran calls out Carmine for having bonded with Ogerpon behind his back. Carmine tries to reason with Kieran and make him see she meant no harm. Looks like neither is getting the other.

• • • • • • •

“You sure are lively for someone with an upset stomach!” Carmine complained as she strode behind her brother, trying to catch up with him.

Kieran had been acting off even before boarding the plane that would take them both back to Unova. He refused to come out and bid farewell to Juliana under a claim of dealing with an upset stomach. Carmine thought nothing of it because she knew her little brother would sometimes eat too many sweets, so it was only natural that his stomach hurt if he did. It wasn’t the first time it happened, either.

However, his behavior during the plane trip made Carmine think that wasn’t the actual reason why Kieran didn’t say goodbye to his new friend. To begin with, when his stomach hurt, Kieran would sort of curl into a ball, yet he was sitting perfectly fine in his seat. He also avoided eye contact with his sister, his eyes always fixated either on the floor or on the window next to him. 

Kieran was awfully silent too. Despite his shy nature, he always had something to talk about when it came to Carmine. After all, she is one of the people he trusts the most, along with their grandparents. Carmine tried to get a conversation going at several points during the flight, but her brother would only respond with monosyllables or—even worse—not respond at all.

So there she was now, trying to find out what was actually wrong with her brother before he entered his room. She had a feeling he wouldn’t leave it for the rest of the day and if they were to talk, it had to be now.

“You can’t keep giving me the silent treatment forever, you know?” Carmine was walking closer to Kieran now, but they were also getting closer to his room.

The boy only looked ahead of him and tried to pretend that his sister wasn’t there, but her constant nagging was making that harder with every passing second. She should know why he was acting that way. To Kieran, while Juliana committed the greatest offense, Carmine was to blame, too. He didn’t want anything to do with his sister at the moment, but it appeared to him that she didn’t get that.

A few seconds later, the siblings finally reached Kieran’s room. The boy took the key out of his pocket and opened the door. 

Seeing how her brother wasn’t going to say anything, Carmine got serious. She folded her arms across her chest. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or what?” the girl insisted. Kieran crossed the threshold and tried to close the door, but Carmine put her foot in the way. “I swear I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”

Kieran clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, but he knew that’d be useless. Instead, he just stood aside so his sister could walk into the room. He didn’t bother restraining himself when closing the door, slamming it shut before standing in front of it in a not-so-subtle invitation for Carmine to leave as soon as possible.

“You know I don’t buy the ‘upset stomach’ thing, right?” Carmine rested her hands on her hips. “Although I’ll admit you almost fooled me.”

Kieran exhaled and shook his head. “I’m too tired for this. Just come see me later.”

“No, I won’t wait until later. I’m tired too, but I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until you tell me the truth about—”

“You’re talking about telling the truth?” the boy glared at his sister. “Maybe you should apply that to yourself first.”

“I knew it.” Carmine’s gaze flicked upward. “All this is because I didn’t tell you that Juliana and I met Ogerpon, isn’t it?”

“It’s not just because of that.” Kieran approached Carmine with an almost defying stance. “You knew Juliana wanted to keep Ogerpon to herself and you let it happen. I’d even say you made sure it happened,” Kieran accused while pointing a finger at his sister.

“Hey, stop right there!” Carmine raised her hands. “We were just helping Ogerpon retrieve all of her masks. It’s not my fault she and Juliana ended up bonding.”

“Don’t talk as if you didn’t bond with Ogerpon, too!” the boy turned around to hide the way his chin trembled. “You excluded me from that experience despite knowing full well how much I always wanted to befriend her.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Carmine leaned back. “I didn’t know things would turn out like that, so don’t blame me for any of it.” 

Kieran faced his sister again. This time, his eyes were glossy. “But you could have done something to stop it.”

“Stop what?” the girl spread out her hands. “What did you want me to do, handcuff Juliana to a radiator so she didn’t catch Ogerpon?”

“Don’t try to be funny!” her brother clenched his hands. “You clearly have no idea how hurt I am by all this.”

“And you have no idea how hurt I am from seeing you act this way,” Carmine retorted. She crossed her arms once again. “Trust me, I do understand your frustration, but things don’t always go the way we want them to. You must accept that.”

Kieran’s whole body tensed up as he heard her words, but Carmine didn’t take notice of that until she was done talking. She also noticed the way he stared at her: it was a hard, cold glare. Carmine had never seen that look in her brother’s eyes and she took a step backward without realizing.

“So what you’re telling me is to just deal with it, right?” the boy questioned, his tone just as stony as the look in his eyes. “If that’s what you think I should do, then… Leave.”

Carmine couldn’t believe she was in such a situation. She was the one clenching her hands now. “Do you realize how irrational you’re being now? This is not like y—”

“Leave. Now.” Kieran cut her off as he pointed at the door with a sharp movement.

His sister raised her hands and went silent. She walked past him and shot him one last, worried glance before opening the door. Carmine intended to close it herself, but she suddenly felt Kieran yank on the doorknob from the other side and slam the door shut so harshly that the glass in a nearby window trembled. 

The girl still stood in front of the door as the bang of it being closed echoed on her mind. Kieran was already too deep into his anger and disappointment. It was clear he wasn’t open to listening to others, but she wasn’t going to abandon her brother. Getting through him would be difficult, but Carmine would find a way. Damn right she would find a way. She wasn’t the older sister for nothing.

[laindtt]

I recently went through the Easter egg mission in Far Cry 6 offering the players a big wink to the Seed family (yes, this particular one), and my goodness did it throw me in an emotional roller coaster! A single screenshot had already spoiled me a while ago, so I knew there was something to look for, but I didn't know where... and I was not prepared for what was coming.

That's such a sweet and unexpected surprise, especially few days after Far Cry 5 5-year anniversary: even if I joined the party a bit late, a piece of media never had made me this emotional ever, deeply moved to tears by a small tribute. As many fans around here, this game has deeply changed my life and will always be a huge part of it, never ceasing to enthrall me to no end. So I take the opportunity of this message to thank you all so much for being such great mutuals ♥ Thanks to your hard work, your creativity and your analytical skills, every day is an opportunity to live the dream a little bit longer, to rediscover the desire to create and the humble joy of being a small part of this incredible community.    

A very very very happy Far Cry 5 anniversary everybody, and thank you for being amazing ♥

(if anybody is interested in any info concerning how you can reach this very specific place in Yara, feel free to pm me ; I’m sure many details can easily be found on youtube or on walkthrough blogs, but if you’d like some spoiler-free tips I’ll gladly help)

Btw, this blog has reached the astonishing number of 200 followers, that’s a crazy threshold I’d like to thank you all for too! To celebrate this milestone, I’m still hesitating between organizing a small fic (ficlet?) giveaway as I did for the 100 follower level, or dedicate you all a happy Seed family moment story based on a Top Gun watching night that I will write someday whatever happens (I can’t remember with whom from the gang I’ve talked about this wonderful idea @yeetslovescheese​ @afarcry5fromstraight​ @josephslittledeputy​ ? and can’t find the post anymore to properly credit you, I’m so sorry my memory is playing tricks on me) ; as I’m in any case extremely slow to write something, this small project will follow its own pace, and news will be dropped from time to time, so feel free to express your preferences for one of these two options :)

Can’t wait to enjoy this new year with you all and a little bit of writing, take care everyone ♥

[sevensins-stuff]

Here's a rewrite I did of the last moments from the vampire even that happened almost 3 events ago, lol. It has my mc in it which uses she/her Pronouns!

The little home they called theirs was just up a small hill, just a few more steps till she reached the front door. Coming home from the castle never proved to be a challenge and tonight was no different.

Her hand had just barely touched the handle of the door before swinging inward, revealing the other that lived in the little house with her. His silver hair swaying gently from the rush of the opening door. If she would be happy to see anyone, it would be him.

"Solomon," she said with a soft smile.

"Welcome back, Aqua." His voice, deep and soothing, was a welcoming sound to her tired ears. "How’d your chat with Diavolo go?"

"Good, but that’s all I’m going to say about it."

She stepped past the threshold as he hummed, closing the door behind her.

"Huh, did you guys talk about something you can’t tell me? Well, magic has ways of getting people to spill the beans."

She turned to look at his mysterious smile and raised an eyebrow in response. A moment of silence nearly took hold before he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nooooot that I’d ever do that to You, of course."

"Uh-huh…"

Aqua couldn't help the smile that stuck on her face as she turned from him. She found humor in him from the strangest thing. Would it have been anyone else, they would've considered him untrustworthy. But not to her. If he had wanted to follow through with anything he's said, he would've done so years ago.

She plopped herself down on the black velvet couch in the center of the living room and nearly pooled over the armrest on the right side. For better or worse, today was just a very long day.

"For someone who’s still stuck at half-power, you did a really great job. Not to mention while under immense pressure to prevent a total crisis." And here he was. Not only lamenting over their long day, but praising her (somewhat) as well.

"That sounds like I deserve a reward for my hard work today," she half joked.

"I was thinking the same, however…there’s one thing that’s been bothering me." Solomon took his place on the couch next to her, resting an arm over the back of it before he slowly leaned in closer to her.

"You smell like a vampire."

"That's a thing!?"

Aqua sat erect in her seat immediately when she heard him, taking her sleeve to her nose to try and pinpoint the scent, to no avail.

"What would a vampire even smell like?"

"You won't be able to tell, but vampires give off a pretty distinct scent." She slumped slowly in her seat again as he continued. "That smell just reminds me of how the brothers were fixated on you the whole time."

"I’m not going to turn into a vampire from just a smell, am I?"

"No, you don’t need to worry about that. It’s just…it probably rubbed off on you from the brothers, which I’m not a fan of."

Something in his eyes darkened for a fraction of a second, but left just as quickly as it came. Just fast enough for her to miss it. But she can sense the jealousy all the same, just not the full extent of it.

"I don’t think it’ll have any adverse effects, but I’d rather overwrite it all the same. To keep any vampires-or demons-from setting their sights on you. So, would you mind if I held you? And left my own mark instead?"

Those words made her heart jump. The sudden addition of 'demons' really made her feel the other side of him that he kept under wraps for so long. Spending most of her time with the brothers, Aqua thought she was used to the jealousy within them. Hell, being a roommate to the literal avatar of envy should have her over any type of jealousy that anyone shows. But Solomon's was different. Enchanting, almost. She couldn't find herself saying no to his request.

"I'd much rather smell like you," she spoke softly.

Soon, the pair found each other in their arms. Aqua resting her head in the crook of his neck and Solomon taking in the sweet scent of her hair as his lips just barely touch her skin. A magnet in her own right. He whispers to her now that they're so close.

"Vampiritis doesn’t affect me, but… With you in my arms like this, I think I’ve got an idea of how those brothers were feeling." Her lashes tickle his neck as she looks at his angled face more clearly. It does something to him.

"This soft skin of yours really does look…invitingly biteable."

She responds with a chaste kiss to his neck and a feather of a whisper.

"I wouldn’t mind if you did it."

[fireandblood-xxii]

Home.

Post-rumbling building off of this post.

Spoilers, maybe? Sfw. JeanMika fluff.

It was nearing the evening hours as Mikasa began the trek back to her and Jean’s shared home. The likes of which would normally have been a cake walk but was now far more taxing on her pregnant body. She made frequent stops along the way to catch her breath but still found herself fatiguing at an annoyingly fast rate.

Finally, just as the sun had set over the horizon, Mikasa reached the front steps of their humble abode. And as she stepped thru its threshold, huffing and puffing, porcelain complexion washed with red and beaded with sweat, she called out to her fiancé to announce her arrival.

“Jean. . . I—“

“MIKASA!” Her (understandably frantic) fiancé called out whilst rounding the corner of the hallway at lightening speed the moment he heard her shuffling in. The wild look on his face that of relief with flashes of sheer panic. “Where have you been?! What took you so long?! I was worried sick! I was about to send out a search party! I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself but you’re in no condition to be fighting anyone off if anything were to happen—!” Jean went on and on, drilling her.

Mikasa just accepted his scolding while maintaining her usual cool and calm demeanor; in part because she was far too exhausted to protest, but also due to the fact that she found his concern for her and the baby extremely endearing. She couldn’t help the soft little grin that broke thru just then in the midst of his panic. But of course, Jean being Jean, that was enough to shut him up. His heart melted at that smile, and suddenly all his anxieties melted away.

He heaved a deep sigh. “Well, all that matters now is that you two are home safe with me. . .”

He took a step closer to his future wife and tenderly cupped her face within his palms, calloused thumbs gently stroking away the perspiration on her sun-kissed cheekbones. God, he thought, Just how did I end up so lucky?

“You must be drained and starving, am I right?” He gave a smug little smirk. “Now how about we get you cleaned up so you two can eat. I have dinner ready for us.”

Mikasa nodded and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s go then, love.”

— — — — —

After a much needed hot shower and a surprisingly appetizing meal, the couple finally settled into their bed for the night. Mikasa was relieved more than anything to be back home resting with Jean; the rollercoaster of emotions coupled with the tiresome journey really took its toll on the mother-to-be.

She laid on her side as to relieve pressure off her back while her fiancé joyously clung on from behind as her big spoon. His face nestled into the curve of her neck while his strong arms wrapped themselves protectively around her smaller frame, hands resting right on the hump of her plump belly. Mikasa could feel his slow hot breaths on her nape in contrast to the light tickles of his beard hairs. Every few seconds he’d trail featherlight kisses across her flesh, sending shivers all throughout her body.

Mikasa had never known such peace— not since the early days of her childhood in the Jeager family’s home, and now with her soon-to-be husband.

Her eyes fell shut for a moment and she breathed a sigh of contentment.

Now this— this is her home.

“You know. . .” Jean uttered softly into her skin, breaking the silence. “You really did have me worried today. . . but I am happy you two got a chance to talk.”

“Me too.” Not wanting this to turn into a solemn moment, Mikasa kept her answer short and sweet. She mostly kept her ‘correspondences’ with Eren to herself which Jean respected. The pair once shared a bond that no one, not even him, her now-fiancé, ever understood. And as much as he loved Mikasa, he wanted her to have every means necessary to honor her fallen friend without his ego getting in the way.

Mikasa began to shift herself around in his arms so that they now laid face to face, snuggling her body as close to his as her baby bump would allow. Her head resting mere centimeters from his own that the tips of their noses brushed with their every breath. For Jean, this still was not close enough.

“And I’m sorry for worrying you so badly.” She edged in closer.

“Don’t let it happen again.” He jested, heart pounding, their lips now brushing against one another’s.

Mikasa closed what little distance remained and took his lips in a tender kiss. Jean felt like every organ in his body was doing flips, his breath caught in his throat, and it took every bit of willpower to restrain him from going absolutely feral on his pregnant fiancé. Which, in hindsight, was certainly how she ended up pregnant to begin it.

He maintained the chastity of the kiss and reciprocated her gentle pace while she reached a hand up to gently brush his stubbled cheeks.

“Jean, darling?” She whispered into his lips.

“Hm?” Still very much disoriented from all the blood that drained from his head.

“I love you.”

His eyelids fluttered a moment as they registered those sweet, sweet words, until a smiled a big, goofy smile spread across his face.

“And I love you.”

I didn’t know I wanted this to be a mini series, but. . . Here I am. Thank you for reading!!

[carmasi]

Mercenary for Hire Chapter  12 - Part 4

He continue to tab his foot on the floor, he was getting restless at this point, it’ve been a week since he’d make up his mind, and he could feel his resolve slipping, he didn’t think it would be this hard to meet her,  she’s been coming to find him for the better half of last week and now, now she was nowhere to be found. He  brushed his hair back, finally getting on his feet, he’d been doing that every so often, he kept sitting down and standing back up, now he was pacing. 

 “Keep on doing that you’ll make a hole in the floor” Vera quipped. The picture of calm, as she was cleaning the glasses behind the counter 

“I don’t.. I don’t get it..” 

Vera shrugged “ Told you she was tired, maybe she’s done chasing after your flaky behind” 

He glared at Vera, his silver eyes narrowing in a mixture of annoyance and impatience, suddenly he stopped as if realizing something “ you! Vera, you got her information from the request, tell me where she lives” He came so close to the counter his face was almost inches from her. 

“ don’t be ridiculous Wright,  you’ll be borderline stalking her if you do that” she pushed him away with a finger on his forehead, and he groaned before letting his head down on the counter.

 “I don’t want to do that”. 

Vera laughed loudly, she’d had the best couple weeks so far since the male came back from his mission and she found out he was with the blonde. 

The familiar chime of the guilds door opening  came up and his eyes darted to the door the familiar figure stand at the threshold, her ash blonde hair swept to her side on a braid, and at that moment, the moment her sweet honey scent, filled the room, the moment the light radiated from her mere presence, at that moment all the courage he’d gathered, the determination, it all left his body as his knees buckled at the sight of her, and his body, his body moved almost immediately, not to where she was but, behind the counter, again

“ Seriously!!!” Vera yelped, seen as the man rushed inside the back room this time around. He was sure, Vera was fed up with him and may have just drag him out of there, but as much as he thought he’d had the courage to face her, he realize at that moment, maybe he was not.

“ What happened to : I’m talking to her?!” she complained from the other side of the door and he only replied with a grunt.  Though Vera could do nothing but halt when she heard the man’s voice from the other side. 

“Vera!” Kyrius’s  voice was soft as she spoke not cheery as often “I’m guessing I’m out of luck today too huh?” she smiled sadly, and  Vera said nothing, though without her noticing she looked over her shoulder at the door that stood behind her.  Behind it laid the man she was looking for. How she wished she could just drag him out of the backroom and present it to the blonde like some kind of trophy and just collect the reward she offered. 

“ Sorry pretty thing, he’s not here” from the other side of the door he lowered his face as he listened to the conversation, aching, asking himself why was he such a coward? but at the same time reminding himself, this cowardness, was just one of the reason why he didn’t deserve her.

 “ is alright Vera, I didn’t come with the intention to find him anyway.  I know you can’t take the payment for the request,  but can you at least give him this?” Kyrius brought up a coin purse, it was hefty, Vera knew as it made a thud sound as soon as it hit the counter. 

“ It’s not the wages for the job.. Is the reward for the quest.. I didn’t do a thing, to be honest, I was actually more of a burden than anything. If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve been dead.. So please, can you at least take this on his behalf,  give it to him whenever he … whenever he comes by” 

Kyrius smiled but the counter keeper could see deep within her eyes, how disappointed she was, how sad even. The blonde didn’t look like the type of women who’d  just take a man to bed for fun, beside she’d tried to reach out, she tried to find that stupid man, and to Vera that meant there was something there, and  gosh why couldn't she just tell the woman, and why couldn’t she just dragged the man out, she smile back, all she could do.

“Alright pretty lady, I’ll make sure to do that for you,  be safe” Kyrius nodded appreciative of the gesture, and just as quickly as she came she left the building. 

[naoyaslut]

Prologue

reader x pseudo geto

warnings: mention of burning corpses, minor oc death

synopsis: Reader stumbles upon Pseudo Geto for the first time.

author notes: something that's been in the drafts for a while, prologue to Long Way to Go which is explicit smut MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

word count: 976

“Yeah, I just have finals, and then I’m officially done. I’m so excited.” You grinned mischievously as you walked an arm linked with Josie, one of your best friends from university. She returned a cheesy smile, both of you startled and pried apart by a male waiter barreling between the two of you.

He was in a panic, uttering out a clumsy “move” as he skidded down the sidewalk slowly trailing out of your line of sight. You stood frozen, mouth agape as you angrily glared at the back of the man’s head the further, he got away.

“I can’t believe he just did that, what the hell was his problem?” you glanced at your friend, baffled yet she only offered you a nervous smile as she resumed holding your hand.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s gone. Maybe he was just in a hurry?” she offered, pulling you towards the entrance of the café. There was this new chai tea that she was excited to try, and she insisted on bringing you along for the visit.

Sighing in exasperation, you followed behind her without complaint until you crossed the threshold of the establishment. Something was… off. The air was extremely thick and humid. Swallowing thickly, you stopped in place to take in a large breath of air.

The environment was genuinely making you sick, nausea beginning to stir uncomfortably in the pit of your gut.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Josie’s hand on your shoulder brought you out of your stupor, her sweet smile causing one of your own to tug at the corner of your lips.

Smiling absently, you only nodded as you followed behind her a waitress leading the both of you to a nearby booth.

Sitting in the booth opposite of Josie, you cringed in disgust as the meat of your thighs stuck uncomfortably to the leather of your seat. It was hot, you couldn’t breathe and presumed the apparent beading of your perspiration on your forehead was visible.

Folding the clean napkin on the table in front of you in half you began to fan yourself uncomfortably as you stared at Josie.

“Are you not feeling this? This place is a hotbox, what is this?”

Josie arched a brow in confusion as she held up her hand as if to test the temperature of the atmosphere.

“What are you talking about?” she giggled to herself as she picked up a menu and began to look it over.

You cleared your throat lowly, eyes wandering around the establishment as that same foreboding feeling began to come back at least ten-fold. Again, something wasn’t right. No matter how much you let your mind wander, you couldn’t shake the dense foreboding cloud that seemed to blanket your conscious the longer you sat there.

One moment Josie was grinning at you mischievously, the next a bright flash of light covered your vision. It blinded you momentarily as what felt like a giant heatwave flooded the interior of the establishment. The sheer amount of force from the heavy combustion knocked you from your seat, your body now pressed against the crumbling interior of the building.

Blinking once, or twice, you opened your eyes to observe everything within reaching distance painted black or smoldering into ash.

“Josie?!” you called out for your best friend, frantically searching the immediate area for her presence.

What happened? Everything had happened in the blink of an eye, and now everything before you were desolate, ravaged from a fiery explosion.

Slowly, you stood dusting the soot on your hands on your skirt as you paced through the fiery wreckage.

“Josie! Jo-” you paused in front of the booth you and Josie had been sitting in. The booths were still in place singed at the edges, the red leather of the seats halfway melted. Across from the booth, you were staring at something that you didn’t immediately recognize. The closer you got, the more apparent it was that you staring at the charred corpse.

Your eyes wandered along the figure; the scorched hands still positioned as if it were holding a menu, Josie’s satchel still in place on the tabletop unscathed.

You squinted in disbelief, unsure of what you were seeing the mixture of tears and smoke beginning to burn your eyes. Taking a step closer, you froze as the silver wristlet that Josie always wore came into view.

“Josie…” your voice was nothing more than a whisper as bile began to creep up your throat your feet stumbling backward. “No.”

Josie was… she was nothing but bone and crumbling ash, all aspects of her humanity gone in an instant. Reaching out towards the blackened corpse you bumped the table with your hip, and it literally fell apart before your eyes shriveled into nothing but ash.

Backing away from the table in a panic, you began to look around the smokey building for an exit. Upon the feeling of something sturdy against your back, you turned in alarm to come face to face with a man dressed in dark robes.

His hair was long and dark in contrast to his fair skin, his forehead was burdened by intricate stitching. His jaw was angular with a narrow nose and the thing that stood out the most that seemed so out of place was the black gaged earrings lodged in his ear.

Startled, you stepped away from him brows knitting together in confusion. Was he in the building when it exploded? How was he still alive? How were you still alive?

The stranger glanced over his shoulder before his obsidian eyes landed on you, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It appears all of the monkeys have perished within the blast.” his smile grew wider as he took a pensive step toward you. “But from the blast, I’ve seemed to stumble upon a gem.”

[lifewtr]

(Don't) Count Me Out | M | 19/?

Summary: Incomplete ZK fic ideas. (Wondered If You'd Stay, FULL CHAPTER!)

On the threshold of his door; in the rosy garden that was his bungalow porch; there had been a moment.

It was just a moment, so minute, so brief, that a large part of her figures she could have imagined it—a part of her figures that Zuko’s voice hadn’t been that tender around the vowels of her name, and that the soft smile he’d given her, the very same one he always gave her, had not, in fact, lasted the half of a second longer than it usually did when he said goodbye—because why would it?

He had been leaning against the robin-egg blue of his door frame with the ease of a sunbathing reefviper, and she had had the straps of her heels from work curled around her fingers as she started down the steps leading out to the lawn. Game night was over, and though everyone else was staying, she was leaving for her own bed. She’d turned to give her final wave and saw that he’d gone and his legs crossed at the ankle, that the dish towel in his hand from their post-meal tradition had found its way over his shoulder.

Casual, normal Zuko.

But then, after Jet had paused briefly behind Zuko to blow a silly kiss at her, he’d said it. He’s said it so carefully, to her. Careful around the vowels of her name and delivered with that gentle, open smile.

“Goodnight, Katara,” half a second longer. Sunrise eyes perhaps a gleam brighter, smile maybe softer.

As soon as it happened she’d felt her last farewell falter on her tongue; the lilting bubble of laughter that normally accompanied her response baited entirely by the sudden realization that she was very aware of her best friend, like how he wore the sleeves of his tee ripped off to soak up the creeping summer heat. How he wore his hair in a lazy knot of gold string—and then of how the warmth in his sure tenor settled soundly underneath her skin. Of how sweetly his lip had curled upward once she’d remembered that she ought to smile back.

Had he always looked at her like that?

When..?

No. Surely, she had only imagined it.

Surely.

____________________________________________________

Katara hesitates at the door.

It’s a familiar door, one she’s come and gone through countless times over the last three years—the very same door she’d walked out of and into the tepid breeze of yesterday’s evening. She had been heading home after a typical long night of food, fire, and games with her friends after a long, annoying day of office work. She’d taken her time admiring the flowers when she made her way down the porch steps, shoes in hand.

And now, she hesitates.

Last night, on this very threshold, she thinks she imagined a moment, only she ever so vividly remembers the way her heart had fluttered from where she tended to wear it around her throat.

Was the dusky rasp of Zuko’s velvet timbre always that deliberate and sweet when he spoke her name, or was that the dregs of the blueberry and starplum bubbly he’d served them all with dinner talking last night?

The questions have been running on a stuck gear in her head since, and now she absolutely needs to know.

Katara reaches out and rings the bell.

It’s Haru who answers, unbound hair wild with sleep and joggers barely over his sharp hips. “Kitty Kat?” He grumbles. “It’s morning...'' He frowns immediately as the words leave his mouth, pushing out the screendoor to step aside in invitation. “M’kay, okay—come on in, then. Cocoa?”

“Yes.”

“Marshmallows?”

“Yes.”

Haru hums shortly under his breath, a knowing and acknowledging note. Katara would normally bask in the fondness she feels at him understanding her so well, but presently the most she can manage is a wan smile. Haru’s frown deepens a notch in turn. He locks up behind her and then leads her to the kitchen by hand, his pointed silence leaving no room for an argument. Katara lets him lead her, unbothered, or perhaps grateful, for one less meager decision for her to make in the moment. Her stare lingers around the house as they pass through the open circle of the lower level, from the stacks of playing cards scattered over the living room coffee table to the cracked french doors of the suite nestled under the centered stairs—where Jet is likely passed out under a pile of university bookstore blankets and firm, satin pillows.

“Sit,” Haru commands with a point once they cross into the kitchen. Katara takes her usual spot without question, settling along the padded window seat nestled behind the dark wood of the kitchen’s table. She kicks off her slides and folds her legs underneath her, fiddles her thumbs as Haru silently moves about, rummaging through cabinets and fetching a spoon from the dishwasher, setting the electric kettle to boil while he pretends not to be throwing thoughtful looks her way.

Soon enough he is back at her side, slipping into the nearest chair as he slides a mug—her mug, glossed baby blue ceramic painted with little gold constellations that Aang had gotten her two Winter Solstice celebrations ago—in front of her. Katara can’t entirely fight the twitch her mouth does at the sight of marshmallows dusted with cinnamon.

She lifts the cup carefully in her hands, mouthing a quick, grateful thank you at Haru before she takes her first sip.

Haru merely shakes his head, dismissing her thanks in that careless, easy way that can only be born from years of friendship and years more to come. “Don’t mention it,” Haru mutters, emerald eyes bright and awake now, zeroed in on her with gentled concern and acute curiosity. “Just tell me what’s going on. Did something happen?”

Katara takes another sip and lets the steamy chocolate warm her from the inside out. She presses a marshmallow to the roof of her mouth with the flat of her tongue, dissolving the pillowy sugar as she considers how to answer Haru’s question.

“I don’t know,” she says eventually, resting her cup and staring intently down at the table. She thinks of lingering gold and counts the wood grains, the lines, trying to keep herself calm as she wades through her words. “I think.. that.. I think. That I need to talk to—”

“Kitty? But it’s so early..” Jet’s sleepy rumble interrupts, causing both of them to instantly turn and look up. Jet stands in the doorway, scratching at the shadow on his jaw and looking much like Haru did when he’d come to let her in—wild haired, shirtless, and wearing sweatpants that sit far too low. He spots the mug in her hands and perks up with a frown, dark eyes gleaming. “Who pissed you off?” He demands quietly, stalking forward and pulling out a chair. He glances at Haru and back, an entire silent conversation that she isn’t sure she cares to decipher at the moment. “What’s going on, Kat?”

“Nobody pissed off anybody,” Katara reassures with a wry chuckle, “I was just trying to explain to Haru that I think I might need to—”

The back door, the back one off to the side of the kitchen that leads out to the deck that the wrap-around porch turns into at the backyard, bursts open with a gust of the day’s cool wind.

“Katara!” Aang flounces in, a V of sweat sticking his oversized sleeveless tee to his chest and a wide grin on his face as he immediately spots her. “I thought that was you I heard,” he says, peeling off his shirt before crouching down to undo the laces on his running shoes, sky-blue lines flexing over an impressive ripple of lean sinew. He glances up and tips his head back at Jet and Haru as he does, a glint of curiosity crossing the clear charcoal of his gaze. “We having another schedule day or something? Because I need to shower first. Oh! And I’ve still got that thing with—wait a minute.” The open softness that is ever present in Aang’s features sharpens. He stands, shirt in hand. He looks past Jet and Haru to look right at her, brow furrowing. “It’s 7:30 in the morning. Those are marshmallows. What’s the matter, Katara?”

“Well,” Katara drawls, wan amusement tinged in growing exasperation as she shares a brief glance with Haru, “I’d be happy to actually share that information if I stop getting fucking interrupted—”

“Aang, have you seen my cufflinks?” Comes a call from around the corner. Katara freezes in her seat. “The little silver cloud that you gave me last week, I swear I left the box on my desk...”

At the second entrance to the kitchen Zuko emerges from the shadow of the archway, tugging impatiently at the hem of his sleeves. Around her mug, Katara’s hands twitch. Her mouth goes dry. In a room full of pretty, half-naked men, Zuko outshines them all in startling contrast.

It’s not like Katara has never seen him in a suit before, but there is definitely something about the navy double-breasted pinstriped ensemble; perfectly tailored to his tall, powerful frame; that makes her tongue heavy and the space beneath her stomach achingly warm. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t put his hair up yet, the dark and silky length of it rivaling Haru’s as it spills over his shoulder, hiding his undercut.

It most certainly doesn’t help that the moment he spots her a wide, slow smile takes over his face.

“A bit early for you isn’t it?” Zuko asks, stopping in his tracks. His sunrise gaze flits quickly around the room, from Jet to Haru and then the mug in her hands. “Something up, Kitten?” He asks, his smile thinning into a firm line.

If she didn’t grow up with Sokka, it would be impossible to tell how one can feel fondness and exasperation so clearly intertwined. Aang, Haru, and Jet all open their mouths at once, each rattling off their own uncertainties in notes of cognizant disquiet—“Trying to find out” and “better not be” and “if you’d all shut up...”

Katara silently takes another gulp of her drink, snagging another marshmallow for courage, and then just as silently sets her mug down.

“Zuko.” She cuts in, quieting the room with no more than the lift of her voice. “Can we talk?”

The quiet in the room catches an undercurrent, a string of anomalous tension filling the atmosphere. Katara ignores the weighty feeling of having all four pairs of eyes honed in on her, used to it by now.

“Uh, yeah,” Zuko answers slowly, instantly catching back up to speed after he lifts his wrist to peer at the face of his watch. He takes half a step back in the direction he came. “You’ll have to walk with me, though. I still have to—”

The kitchen simmers into a flurry of resumed action, seemingly abrupt after the sudden moment of stillness she’d evoked. “Cufflinks are in your desk, not on it,” Aang inserts as he nudges his shoes in line at the back door. Haru chimes in while he heads for the fridge, “and you left your silver tie in the laundry room.”

Reaching over to steal the rest of her hot chocolate, Jet murmurs a cursory good luck today dude before taking his sip.

Katara stands from the table, gesturing vaguely for Zuko to lead the way. Zuko tosses a thanks over his shoulder as he turns on his heel and starts his beeline out of the room.

“So,” Zuko says lightly as he takes the short hall towards the laundry room, tentative and curious but not nearly as deeply concerned as the others had been. “What’s up?”

More nervous than she’s been letting on ever since the boys started pouring into her initially private conversation with Haru, Katara stuffs her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. She waits in the hall, watching in silence as Zuko pops into the laundry room before popping right back out, collar of his undershirt turned up and wide silver tie already snaking around his neck.

Zuko tilts his head at her, brow raising as his careful hands work the sliver of fabric into a neat knot. His hair sways minutely with the motion and La he looks good.

How in the fuck, Katara thinks anxiously, am I supposed to say anything while he looks like this—looking at me like that..?

“Kat?”

She does her best not to let her anxiety morph into real panic. When did this hallway get so narrow? The waft of his swarthy cologne is so clear at this proximity, infuriatingly dark and good... Her lashes flutter shut. When on earth did I get so weird around him? It’s only been a single night since I saw him last..

“Katara.”

“Yeah,” she croaks, raspy with emotion as she snaps her eyes open. She inhales sharply, how quickly she is met with burning gold. “What is it?”

“You first, girl. Are you alright? You look like you’re gonna be sick.. Oh no, you are allergic to persimmons, aren’t you? Is that what this is about, last night's dessert? Fuck! I asked Sokka before I started cooking and he swore to me that you could have them—”

Katara blinks, thrown out of her stupor at the onslaught of information. “You.. called and asked my brother if I was allergic to persimmons?”

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to feed you something without knowing if you could even eat it first.” Zuko puffs out his cheeks and then lets out all the air. “My food made you sick, didn’t it. That’s why the marshmallows.”

“What? Zuko, no—” disbelieving laughter bubbles up and out of Katara’s chest. Her brother lives seven hours ahead of them and he called in the dead of Kyoshi Island night to check if she was allergic to a fruit, instead of just asking her. “Oh my god,” Katara laughs as she frees her hands and shoves her face into her palms. “Am I an idiot?”

She thinks about last night, the sound of her name, a lingering smile and the glint of warm eyes; the many moments before, like when he’d showed up with tequila and ice cream after she’d lost out on an assignment to her rival at work. The time he’d rescued her from the rain with a ride on his bike after a particularly late night on campus, and then the time he’d dropped off a change of clothes at her office when she’d cried in the group chat about her wardrobe malfunction—heels and a dress that had fit her to a T, without him ever once asking a thing about her measurements.

Katara compounds it with the moment she’d found herself in last night, compounds it with the moment that she is in this very second, and concludes that maybe she is an idiot.

“Zuko,” Katara raises her head to peek at him from behind her fingertips, every ounce of anxiety that had cropped up gone with her epiphany. “Do you like me?”

Zuko tilts his head in the opposite direction this time. His hands fall from where they’d been centering the knot of his perfectly done tie.

“You’re Katara.” He says matter of factly. “What’s not to like?”

That is a compliment she will have to dissect later. “No, you moron—” Katara mutters. She glances down the hall, and then steps into Zuko’s space with a huff when she sees that they’re still alone. Bravely, she rests her hands on Zuko’s chest; does not inwardly purr at the firmness she feels there as she splays her fingers for balance while she stands on her toes and lets herself lean in.

“Zuko,” and Zuko goes so, so impossibly still as she puts her mouth next to his marred ear. Whispers. “Do you like me?”

Zuko inhales, slow and deep, before he turns his head to look at her. There is something heavy in his gaze, a downward tilt to his mouth and the tiniest furrow in his brow. “Katara,” he says patiently, and it takes everything in her not to shiver at the quiet, steady tone his voice has lowered into, at how her name sounds on it. “If I took the time to answer that in the way I’d like, I’d be late for work for all of eternity.”

Katara chokes back a sudden whine. Tui and La, if she weren’t so immobilized by ardor and the abrupt swelling of plain, greedy want that fills her body, she is sure that she would take his words and go carve them into the spaces between her ribs.

She asks, whispering still, afraid that if she speaks too loudly she will shatter whatever this is, her confession; his; ruined forever by her jittery yearning. “And how would you answer that?”

Zuko lets out another exhale, shakier this time. One moment they are in the open of the hallway, and in the next Zuko has her arm in the relentless grip of his hand, is tugging her into the laundry room, sliding the door closed behind himself before spinning them around and pressing her back into it. Katara feels her heart in her throat, her pulse low and deep as Zuko looms over her with fever-bright eyes and a seriousness to him that she has only ever seen him use during Advocacy 401 mock trials.

“Did Jet put you up to this?”

“What?” Katara blanches, heart falling from her throat to the pit of her stomach. “No! Why the fuck would—?”

“This isn’t a prank?”

“No.”

“You’re not toying with me.”

“I—” Something crestfallen and cold douses Katara. Her shoulders fall, and she blinks away the spring of wetness in her eyes. “I would never do that to you. Never. How could—?”

The hand that’s been gripping her arm slides up, brushes against the line of her jaw in a feather-light reverence that makes her mouth click shut and her lashes flutter all over again. “No,” Zuko sighs, “of course you wouldn’t. Sorry. Forget I ever said that. Listen, Katara...”

It’s her turn to let out a shaky exhale. How is this her life right now? “What is it, Zuko? Something else you want to ask me?”

“No.” Zuko gives a small shake of his head. “Just my answer.”

And there, on the edge between hurt and angry, because how could he think that of her, Zuko washes it away with a kiss. Light and sweet, his mouth slants against hers. A shudder moves through her body, her hand raising on its own as Zuko rubs tiny, nonsense patterns across her jaw and down the side of her neck with his fingertips.

Katara’s hand locks around Zuko’s wrist. He breaks away from her with a sigh, the warmth of it fanning across her chin. He doesn’t go far and she doesn’t let him, following his mouth with her own until she has him caught in a slow, firm kiss. A low sound pours out of him and into her from where they touch, and this time she does not hide how she shivers.

Zuko’s other hand finds its way under the hem of her sweater and settles over her hip, squeezing; holding her in place as he pulls back with a loud exhale. “Katara—”

“Yes,” she breathes impatiently, hands roaming up his arms to grip at his shoulders. How dare he stop kissing her to ask such a stupid question? “Zuko, yes.”

Electricity buzzes in the room then, the gap between them closing with a quiet, muttered curse as Zuko tilts her face to his and captures her mouth in a full, wet thing of a kiss. A tiny groan escapes Katara’s throat, her hands moving to fist in the lapels of Zuko’s finely pressed suit. She could care less about it, with the way Zuko makes her mouth fall open for him with the eager, demanding swipe of his tongue across the seam of her lips.

Fizzy desire coats the cradle of her navel, warm and syrupy as hot honey, as Zuko steps in closer until his front is molding to hers—until she is caught between him and the door and incapable of doing anything but gasping little breathes of his name as his mouth finds the other side of her jaw, that spot just beneath her ear, the slope of her neck. He is back at her mouth once she works a hand into his hair, humming along with every little sound he pulls out of her when he kisses her again, nibbles at her bottom lip until she is impatiently licking at his top lip for more, is begging for harder and deeper with every tug of his hair in her hands.

Zuko breaks away with a growly sort of sound that makes her wish he didn’t have her pressed so firmly against the door—she wants to open her legs, get her thighs around his waist and feel—

“Shhh, Kitten,” Zuko hums in her ear, the hand still on her neck moving in short, soothing swipes. She nearly chokes at the way her nick name sounds in that moment, twisted into something so much more now that she has had her mouth on his, has him against her.. Zuko runs his nose along hers, leaves a little peck there. “S’okay,” he mutters, “stop whining, alright? You’re alright..”

Oh, is she whining? “Well,” Katara nips at what she can reach, narrowing her eyes in warning at Zuko’s laugh when she nicks the tip of his nose, “let me get my hands on you and that won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Remember what I said about eternity?” Zuko rumbles quietly. His eyes flash, gone from sunrise to sunset with how wide his pupils have gone. “I meant it, Katara.”

“Good,” Katara whispers back, leaning in to start back nipping and licking and melting at how his jaw goes slack when her teeth graze his bottom lip. “Stay here and kiss me for however long.”

The look he gives her when he uses his hand to gently, firmly grip the back of her neck so that he can lean back and catch her eye is dark and promising, promising so much more than kisses in the laundry closet.

“I’m late, Katara.”

“Then be late, Zuko..”

Another growly sound, as amused as it is strained. “No,” Zuko says, releasing his hold on her and taking a step back, leaving her cold and upset and wanting. “How about you be on time—for dinner later, where we can talk about.. this. I’ll pick you up right after I leave the office.”

It’s a statement, a request, as much as it is a question. He’s right—she shouldn’t make him any later than he is just because she wants to never stop kissing him, and they should absolutely have a talk about this.

“Right, you’re right,” Katara does not pout, but she does fold her arms across her chest and avoid the steadiness of Zuko’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that, it was wrong of me. I just—” she huffs out a laugh and drags her hands down her face, covers her kiss-swollen mouth. One kiss, and she was already making her demands. She shakes her head at herself. “Seriously, don’t mind me. Of course your work is more important right now—”

Zuko’s shadow falls across her socked feet, and then his hand is back on her face, her chin between his firm grip once more as he leans down and slants his mouth over hers. A long, needy moan hauls itself from deep in Katara’s chest, her arms instantly lifting to circle around Zuko’s neck as his other hand smooths its way across her hip and to the small of her back. She whimpers, absolutely tingling at the contact, uncaring how she mindlessly presses forward—and then Zuko is breaking away again, leaving her gasping for air to press dragonfly kisses up her nose and down her jaw.

“I never said that work was more important,” he says between kisses, voice rough and indigent. “I said that if I stay here,” a hot, open mouthed kiss beneath her ear, “kissing you..” another on the slope of her neck, this one accompanied by a brief, delicious scrape of teeth that makes her shudder and whine, “... That I will be here forever.” Zuko raises his head, runs his thumb back and forth, sweetly, across her chin. “So say you’ll have dinner with me tonight, Katara. Tell me you’ll let me earn your kisses.”

Katara’s heart takes up its previous residence in her throat. Warmth flushes through her, sugary and pleasant. Fuck, this man is good to her, each and every instance he’s been good to her carrying a new weight now that she has her answer.

“Fine,” she whispers it this time. Carefully, Katara reaches up and returns his sweet gesture; run the tips of her fingers feather-light and reverent along the scar of his cheek. “Earn your kisses, then.”

Zuko leaves a peck at the corner of her mouth—“Thank you, Kitten,”—and then he is gone, the crack in the sliding door of the laundry room; the heat in her chest; the only evidence that he was there in the first place.

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