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primofate · 3 months

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Confessions Series - Part 2: Description [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

In a nutshell: He asks if you have your eyes set on someone. You start describing HIS features and watch for his reaction. (Hint: He likes you too)

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Overheard)

Warnings: The usual, haven't written in a while, please forgive mistakes, bit of angst in Diluc (couldn't help it), I am a sleep deprived mother, some profanity, for some reason did not feel like writing Zhongli though he's one of my faves.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gaming, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Xiao, gn!reader

Personal Favourites: Diluc, Wriothesley

Aether

"Yeah, I do," you start. "He's very selfless...He's always running around helping other people,"

Aether nods, intense gaze in his eyes while listening.

"Hmm...He has...a partner. Like a companion he always travels with..."

Aether's brows start to furrow and his head tilts the slightest bit. Paimon flying next to him has no clue who it is whatsoever.

"He's not originally from Teyvat...He's on a journey, you see..." this is where you start getting nervous

You see it click in Aether's head slowly, and his eyes start to widen the slightest bit

"Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you, traveller! Why have we never met this person before, Y/N?" Paimon asks and you only smile.

"P-Paimon," Aether glances at her and then back to you. It's silent for a moment. Paimon is super confused.

But Aether being Aether didn't want to get the wrong idea and racks up the courage to ask you one last question. "He's on a journey...to look for his twin sister?"

You smile the brightest smile you've ever given him. "Correct!"

"Ah...Well..." Aether starts to feel the heat on his cheeks. "That's..." he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just...I'm happy!"

Is basically flustered when he realizes you've technically just confessed to him.

Albedo

"Simply put, I think he's dedicated to his craft," You shrug and smile

"...An admirable trait," he responds.

"He's frequently in Dragonspine. He spends a bit of time in his lab there," you decide to just go straight for the obvious.

Albedo pauses. "I...see..." Turns to you with a small smile "I wasn't aware that you were that fond of me,"

"Now you know," you simply say and try to play it off with a wave of your hand.

He chuckles under his breath and strides over to you while saying. "Well then, I suppose it's my turn to talk about the person I've set my eyes on,"

Proceeds to describe you accurately, down to your likes and dislikes. In his eyes, you seem like something so precious and you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

Alhaitham

"Hmm... Sort of," you explain. "He's a little...hard to reach,"

Alhaitham "...and you still pursue him?"

You laugh a bit "I'm hardly pursuing him, I'm just...observing. I like watching him, even though he has the most unreadable face I've seen,"

Alhaitham goes quiet for a moment. He catches on fast, he already has an idea but is cautious about what he says. "...I see," he doesn't ask anything else, but you continue to offer information.

"He likes reading. Really smart guy...but kind of no nonsense type. Very straight to the point," You begin to feel a little nervous so you pretend to read your own book with a small shrug.

The silence is deafening.

"I suspect that type of person will be hard to put up with," he suddenly says aloud and you chuckle in response.

"Possibly, but he seems to be putting up with me too...I guess?"

He suddenly closes his book and leans forward to pry the one in your hands away. He locks his gaze with you. "...'Putting up' is hardly the word I would use." his lips twitch the slightest bit before continuing. "He has little to no patience for other people...so if he keeps you around...perhaps it signals something else,"

"Something else...As in, I'm special?"

Again he quiets for a moment, before he stands up, chair scraping the floor. "...Precisely," he turns to start walking out of the library, waving a hand behind him. "I'll pick you up in the morning tomorrow,"

Ayato

"I do, but he's a very busy sort of man,"

Ayato "Is that so?" he pours tea for you.

"Quite. He's also a very important person,"

He hums and watches the billowing steam from the tea. "It sounds as if I might know this person," but he genuinely doesn't know it's him, he just thinks its another noble.

"...You most definitely know him. He has a sister. Lovely girl." This is where you avert your gaze from him in fear of him instantly connecting the dots.

He talks in pauses "A...sister..." His mind is starting to make connections but he can't be quite sure yet. So he prods further. "...Does she happen to have a vision?"

"A cryo vision holder, yes," you're biting the inside of your lip at this point. There's a moment of silence before you hear Ayato laughing rather gleefully, like he was amused by a story.

"I see." he ends with a chuckle. "I apologize for being so busy, Y/N," he smiles at you "I promise I'll do my best to arrange my priorities in order to spend more time with you,"

Baizhu

"He takes his job too seriously and can be quite reckless...Sometimes he even puts himself in danger,"

Changsheng catches on immediately. The snake had already known for a while. Baizhu was just being dense. "Oh here we go," the snake half whines.

Baizhu gives it a weird look before turning his attention back to you. "That does sound reckless,"

"I've told him a couple of times to think about himself too...but I guess he's just really passionate about his job,"

Baizhu sort of shrugs, "What IS his job?"

"...Well for starters he owns a pharmacy around town,"

To Baizhu the realization hits all too slowly. It's not that he was slow or dense, but he was having a hard time believing that it was him you were talking about, specially when you hadn't said it outfront.

"...You do realize I'm the only one who owns a pharmacy around town?" he asks, eyes piercing through you and awaiting your answer.

Changsheng is the one who answers for you. "Yes you ridiculous doctor, Y/N's pertaining to you!"

It's the first time you've seen him blush and he turns his head away when he does so. "I-I see, well...that's rather, unexpected...but not unwelcome,"

Clears his throat "Just give me a moment"

Changsheng would roll its eyes if it could.

Bennett

"Has a lot of energy...Sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it. I really like him for that though."

Deflates as soon as you start talking about your "crush". What kind of answer was he expecting anyway? That you had eyes for him?

"He has a bit of a...problem when it comes to luck," you continue

Bennett stops, you look at him and you can practically see the gears in his head starting to turn a little faster.

"Y-Y/N? Are you talking about..." then the gears suddenly stop. "Oh what am I saying, it can't be. Ahahaha! Let's go!" starts walking again as if nothing happened

Your jaw drops and you're forced to just DIRECTLY tell him you're talking about him.

"...Oh...Oh! F-For real?! Oh...Sorry... I just thought... there's no way! B-But, I'm really glad! Really!"

Chongyun

"Hmm...He's a little shy...but he's very responsible,"

Chongyun stares at you intently and nods as if taking notes.

"He doesn't like spicy stuff,"

Chongyun nods twice, eagerly.

"He's very dedicated in learning about thaumaturgy,"

Chongyun blanks out, brows furrow but still nods. Slowly.

"He's really good with a claymore too!"

Chongyun stops and stares at you, you see a hint of red gracing his cheeks "Y/N...You can't possibly be...talking about... m-m-m-"

Can't seem to say it, so you outright say that it is, in fact, him.

Combusts into a tomato red

Cyno

"How do I say this...He's a pretty strict guy." The two of you are playing Invokation TCG during this convo.

"Mmhmm..." Cyno is focused on his cards, frankly he doesn't give a craps ass who you're into. He didn't even know why he asked, he just dug himself a hole.

"...but he really only takes his work seriously. It's his job to be serious, I guess. I think that's what Matras need to do," he finished his turn and its yours now, though he's still studying his cards intently. Until you get to the Matra part.

"He's a Matra?" You rarely see a surprised face on Cyno so you focus your gaze on him. "Which one?" He further asks. Honestly he looks about to murder someone.

You blank out a bit at how intense his stare was, "Well...You know. That one, the one who's really into Invokation TCG,"

He immediately follows up without missing a beat "I don't know anyone else who's into--" then it clicks.

It was so damn silent for a good 10 seconds. You clear your throat, tear your eyes off him "Um, it's your turn,"

STILL doesn't budge until he finally goes back to his cards with a whisper, you can't really tell but he looks slightly bashful and you can barely, BARELY hear him "...If I win then we go on a date,"

"Okay, and if you lose?"

Cyno "...I'm not gunna lose,"

"See, I told you he's a really serious guy,"

Dainsleif

"I think he's a very dedicated person," you get lost in thought a little, thinking about him. "Whenever I look at him...Sometimes I feel as if there's a certain sadness in him... Perhaps he blames himself for not being able to protect his nation,"

He IMMEDIATELY knows. And he knows that you hurt for him too. How could he not?

"He searches for answers... I don't know for how long, I suppose a long, long time," you close your eyes, imagining how long he must have been wandering Teyvat.

You only open your eyes when you feel a hand brush against yours. He's looking straight at you, neither happy nor sad. "...You don't have to feel that way, for my circumstances,"

The brush against your hand disappears and reappears next to your cheek, his fingers gently resting on it "...Knowing that you feel that way, has taken away some of the burden that I shoulder,"

His gaze suddenly hardens and his voice drops to a whisper, "But please, just don't end up in the same way as everyone else,"

Diluc (I don't know why I end up writing a whole novel for this guy. I guess he's my OG favourite)

You pause for a moment, wondering how to describe Diluc. "...Sometimes... I feel as if I know a lot about him and yet... he's still far off in the distance,"

Diluc, rifling through paperwork, doesn't even look at you. "...That tells me nothing about him," there's a bit of bite in his statement.

You sigh a little, "I mean, simply said he's a hardworking man. He always has Mondstadt's best interests in mind...but he prefers to work alone,"

He's silent, but you can still hear the paper shuffling.

"....but people love him. They care for him. I suppose I understand why he keeps a distance but..." at this point you don't even realize that you're just rambling and staring into space. Sort of in a daze of thinking out loud. "...isn't it lonely? ...I suppose I shouldn't assume how he feels. Maybe he's fine with it...I just wonder how long till he sees us..." there's silence, no ruffle of papers, you're still just staring at the bookshelf and you continue in a monotone voice. "...or sees me,"

You blink, and all of a sudden its as if a magic spell is cast on you and you wake up to the reality that you've been rambling about him. You sit up straight "Oh," then turn to him with a careful smile. You don't think he knows what or who you're talking about anyway. "I better get going," you stand, "Jean must be waiting for me."

You leave, and he doesn't stop you.

You don't really think anything of it, feeling as if your whole monologue was very vague...but to your surprise he knocks at your door in the evening, there's a bit of rain falling.

"Diluc? You're drenche--"

"I see you,"

The determination in his voice lulls you to keep quiet and only stare up at him, wondering if he had more to say, but instead of saying something, he leans in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, as if he had been defeated.

You only welcome his embrace, and, for the first time in a long time. Diluc finally feels like he's home.

Gaming

"Passion!" You nod your head as you say it. "He knows what he wants to do and is incredibly dedicated to it!"

Gaming looks surprised, has no idea you're talking about him. "Huh! That's really cool!" He thinks he's the total opposite. "Wish I could be as dedicated as him."

You kind of laugh out loud and he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Gosh you really sell yourself short," you shake your head "Anyway, this guy, right, he kinda works two jobs," you put out your hand to count one and two "One, for the Secure Transport Agency and two, he's in a Wushou Troupe,"

Gaming instantly straightens his back and looks at you wide-eyed. You figure you had to be direct when it came to him otherwise he'd never get it with how modest he was.

"...You're...talking about...me?" You smile at him sympathetically.

"You know, Gaming, I wish you saw yourself the way others saw you. You're a great person,"

Big smile, but legit looks like he's about to cry. "Between the two of us? I think you're greater Y/N,"

Heizou

"...Honestly he's kind of a flirt," you raise your eyebrows at the fact and kind of question yourself why you like this kind of person. "Makes me wonder if he does that to everyone, you know?"

Heizou hums and puts his hand under his chin in a "thinking position"

"That's not enough evidence to go by. Perhaps we can investigate this guy together to see if he's worthy,"

You look at him, pursing your lips while musing and giving him a suspicious look. You're not sure if he's figured it out.

He's got no idea. I mean, it was a pretty general description. "Any distinguishing features?" he asks.

You look at him in a deadpan manner. "Red hair, I guess. And moles under his eyes,"

He looks back at you with a matching blank face.

Then breaks into a wide, close eyed grin. "I see! From experience, that person is truly trustworthy,"

You sigh a little, "Is he though?"

He chuckles heartily. "I promise you he is," offers you his hand with a genuine smile. "Let me show you,"

Itto

"Ummm... big, tall, strong looking guy. Intimidating at first look but he's actually a dork," you explain.

Itto crosses his arms above his chest with an unamused face. "Tch! No way! Ain't no one taller than me in Inazuma!" Then he looks smug again. "Anyway, keep goin'. What else?" Only asked you because he wants to see what your "type" is.

"...Popular? Nah... Infamous is the word, I think. He kinda gets into a lot of trouble,"

Itto raises a brow "You serious? Whaddyou want with someone like that?" as if he wasn't a troublemaker himself.

"I mean... He also loves life and somehow always sees the good side of things."

Itto "Eh... guess that's a good thing..." folds his arms behind his head and huffs.

This guy is never gunna get it so you drop more obvious hints. "He's an oni who has his own gang."

For a split second he looked like he was going to get it, and then... "WHAT?! There's another oni who wants to challenge the Arataki Gang?"

"That's not what I--"

punches his fist onto his palm "Lead the way Y/N, let me at 'em!"

"I'm talking about you!"

"Huh?"

"Itto, there's no other oni around town!" leave it to him to make you exasperated.

He quiets for a few seconds. "...But Y/N..."

You expectantly stare at him, curious what he was going to say about your confession.

"...Did you just call me a dork?"

Of course that's what he picks up on.

When he finally processes it though, he's stoked and on an all time high.

Kaeya

"...good at talking to people, and he knows it... Exudes charisma like he breathes air," You're saying this with a glare.

He chuckles and rests his head on his fist. "Why, pray tell, do you look angry when saying that?"

"Not angry..." you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing away from him. "Just... probably a lot of people like him,"

"And you don't like that?" He smirks. He totally knows.

"...No...Well...I'm okay with it... It's just... I think he's so much more than what he shows to others,"

That, he wasn't expecting. He actually feels genuinely touched.

"Sure he jokes around a lot...Is good at making people feel comfortable...but he's also kind...and you can always count on him," there's a faraway gaze in your eyes now, a small smile on your face. "To me, he's...a safe space."

Kaeya's smile drops. It looks like he's unhappy and you think that maybe you've made a mistake. Still...there's no way he knows that it's him, right? It was kinda vague...

You're about to stand and excuse yourself but he catches your wrist easily. "...You know..." he starts, meeting you eye to eye. He looks at you as if he's looking into your soul, his eyes the gentlest you've seen them.

"You make it so hard, not to fall deeper in love with you,"

Lyney (I have no idea how this ended up so dramatic)

"He isn't exactly a trickster...but he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve,"

Lyney "Oh?" Raises an eyebrow. Something kind of clicks in him, but he shakes it off. "The good kind or the bad kind?"

You stall a little, thinking of the answer, knowing that he's Fatui. "The...good...kind,"

"You don't sound very sure," he gives you a lopsided smile.

"It's complicated," you admit. "Regardless of the circumstances though, I think he's a great magician,"

You watch his face turn into surprise quite quickly, but he still looks and feels unsure of himself. "Oh, perhaps...I can learn a thing or two from him?"

Your smile turns forced and hard. He can't be serious? He STILL doesn't know, or...what?

"I...Well..." You don't know what to say next, but he seems to get the idea.

"Sorry, have I put you in a hard place? Ahaha..." Scratches the back of his head. "My apologies, I was just curious,"

This, for some reason, really puts you off and you feel as if you've been rejected, even though you technically had not outright told him that you're talking about him.

It seems silly for you to get upset, but you are. So you stand, and make a request of him. "Can we... just pretend this conversation didn't happen?" and you give him some sort of excuse that you need to run an errand or something, and you're off, leaving him feeling...guilty. But he doesn't know why. Or does he?

Lyney would look like the type of person who would be confident about himself. But, really, as a magician, he had to be 1000% sure about something before he went ahead with it, and so...that's where his doubt stemmed from.

Lynnette is really the one who knocks some sense into him. "...and you...let Y/N leave?" after hearing the story from him.

"Oh, Lyney... Regardless of what Y/N feels... For you, next to Freminet and I, is there someone else that you love dearly?"

That's how he ends up at your doorstep. Though you've seen his disappearing rose trick hundreds of times, he was the most sincere at that moment, when he says sorry that he didn't get the hint and to give him a chance.

Neuvillette

"Serious person. He seems to put his work first, above all else," you say. "I respect him a lot for that,"

Neuvillette is interested in what you say, but doesn't know at all that it's him. "He does sound quite respectable," he says while looking through some files.

"A long time ago he said that he feels like he's an outsider...but really I feel like there isn't anyone who knows Fontaine the way that he does,"

Neuvillette, moves the file he was reading downwards, just to look at you questioningly. "He's from Fontaine?" this was surprising to him.

"Well...he currently resides in Fontaine, yes," you nod.

"Ah," he answered curtly. "And I have never met him?" he asks.

"...He's very busy." you bite your lip, about to say something and you know that the next sentence is the point of no return. "He's the Iudex...so it's hard to catch him,"

You swear you can hear your heart hammering in your chest.

You see him put his files down and just stare at you with a sort of...unsure look.

His shoulders relax, he wasn't even aware he had been tense that whole time. "That... must have taken a lot of consideration and courage to say," he clears his throat.

You only nod your head slowly, moving your gaze away from him with an awkward smile. Hand absentmindedly grabbing a book and flipping through the pages...you had no idea what you were doing out of nervousness.

"I apologize...I'm unfamiliar with what to do in these kinds of situations... However," he pauses and seems to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "Please don't take it as a rejection. I'd be honored to navigate this with you, if you would so graciously have me,"

Scaramouche

"He's an asshole," you bite back a laugh.

He instantly knows.

"Actually he acts all tough only to give in to his inner-kind-of-agreeable-personality,"

He snorts

"What? Am I wrong?" you challenge him. You KNOW that he knows. The two of you have been hovering around each other for a while, and there's a certain closeness between the two of you. Though that line was never crossed.

He doesn't answer you back but prods you more. "Is that all? You like that he's an asshole? Are you some type of masochist?"

You almost laugh. "No, you moron. I'm saying he has a weird way of showing he cares. He's always biting my head about not being careful enough. But if he really didn't care he wouldn't be screaming at me, you know what I mean?"

Scaramouche grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms, turning away from you.

"Say that again?" You ask, not hearing what he said.

"...I said, you're not as stupid as I thought you were," shrugs his concealed embarrassment off and turns back to you all nonchalant again. "Anyway, stop yapping and get going, we got things to do,"

Snatches your hand and starts pulling you to walk with him.

Tartaglia (I feel like this is ridiculously short but I also feel like Tartaglia would have known a LONG time ago if the two of you had the feels for each other)

"Oh man...Probably the most reckless man I know,"

Also knows. Instantly. But shuts his mouth just so he can listen to you talk about him, but it gets deep real quick.

"In my opinion he's a handsome guy. Real charming," you smirk the tiniest bit. "but I don't know if I can keep up with him, honestly. It's a little hard not knowing when he's going to come back...or if he's even gunna come back at all,"

You weren't going to hide the fact that you were scared shitless he didn't return from Fontaine for ages. You legitimately thought he had died.

Tartaglia stops you there, by suddenly cradling your cheek. "Y/N," he's wearing a pained expression. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be, it's your job, right?" You reassure him, and shrug.

He sighs "Yes, but I'll promise this to you as I've promised my family," he smiles, the most confident smile you've seen on him. Even more confident than when he wields his blades. "I'll come back to you, I always will,"

Wriothesley

"Er... How do I say this... He kind of has some... big boss energy?"

"Oh?" he sips at his tea, glancing at you while he looks at today's paper. "So he's a bigshot?" he asks curiously.

"Somewhat, yes. Intimidating at first look, but...he just has a great sense of responsibility," you pick at the selection of cakes and cookies he has.

"Huh," he lets out in a quick huff. In the deepest, DEEPEST parts of his mind there is a NANOSECOND that he thinks its him but it gets erased so quickly he's not even sure that he had thought about it.

"Sounds like a good person... Any interesting, weird quirks?" he grins as he says this, yet again glancing at your expression.

Your lips tremble a bit at what you're about to say, because you're SURE he was going to get it once you say it. You gulp and feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand before you say out loud "He likes tea. I kind of wonder if it's an addiction," you can't meet his eyes.

He's looking at the paper he's reading but nothing.registers.in.his.brain.its.like.it.stopped.working.

You shift in the uncomfortable silence but he calmly folds up the newspaper and places it on his table. "...I'm inclined to ask, because it would be embarrassing if I got the wrong idea,"

"Mmhmm," you pop a cookie in your mouth to distract yourself.

"By any chance, are you...talking about me?"

"Mm," you nod your head, still not looking at him and glue your eyes on the cookies instead, out of embarrassment.

Suddenly chuckles. You brave a peek at him, now covering his eyes with a single hand, head tipped back to rest on his chair.

You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"Sorry, no, it's just... I didn't think it would happen this way." Visibly takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. Seems to have regained his composure and is back to his confident self, smiling at you. "Thanks Y/N, I... don't think it's much of a secret that I enjoy your company too. I'm just a little embarrassed that you beat me to it...some big boss energy huh?"

Xiao

"...He takes on everything by himself. I worry about him," You look at the stars as you say this. Xiao doesn't say anything.

"But I'm glad that he's opening up a lot more now. It's great to see him among friends,"

Xiao has a feeling at this point, that its him you're talking about, but he still doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze in front of him rather than on you.

"Yes, the road in front of him is long but...he's also already come a long way," you sigh a little "The time of Rex Lapis has long gone, but he still sticks to his principles. I think his dedication is part of what I like about him,"

This is when he turns to you, blank look on his face, contemplating on what to do. When you turn to meet his gaze, its then that he decides to bridge the gap between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, leaning in sideways to catch your lips in a chaste and rather shy kiss.

"You should give a bit of credit to yourself, for putting up with me all these years, Y/N,"

End!

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#genshin impact #genshin fluff #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #gaming x reader #scaramouche x reader #itto x reader #aether x reader #cyno x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader

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crushedbyhyperbole · 3 months

Text

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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martiniluvr · 3 months

Text

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

he would never admit it to anyone, but dick grayson loves it when you get a little jealous. or, rather, he loves making it up to you after the fact.

it’s not unusual for him to be at the receiving end of suggestive remarks and lustful gazes. he doesn’t go out of his way to make it happen, and he never entertains other women’s flirtatious comments, but when your boyfriend looks like that, there’s no avoiding it, really. so when he invites you attend a wayne gala at the gotham museum of antiquities, it takes more than a little self-control for you to stay calm.

three hours in, you’re one “gosh, you’re strong! and those eyes,” away from causing a scene with a glass of red wine. ever-observant, dick squeezes your side softly as he excuses himself from his conversation with another tall socialite, guiding you to the perimeters of the room.

“what’s wrong?” he smirks. asshole. you narrow your eyes at him before looking away, trying not to snap at him. you know it’s not his fault.

“nothing. I’m fine.” lie. he laughs softly and settles his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. he’s going to enjoy this.

“come on, baby,” he pleads. “these ladies are big donors, that’s all. I gotta keep up appearances.” you meet his gaze once again, your lips in a tight line, and his smile widens. “what, are you gonna make me beg for forgiveness?” you say nothing, but you notice a gleam in his eyes that sends heat rushing between your legs. his grip on your hips tightens as he leans in close. “alright, pretty girl. let me make it up to you.”

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“d-dick…” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down. there’s no need, really; the museum’s marble bathroom stall, paired with the string quartet performing at the gala, muffles your moans well enough.

your black gown is bunched around your waist, and dick’s suit jacket lies discarded on the floor, along with your underwear and stilettos. you shakily hold yourself up on the marble sink with one hand, the other wound in dick’s soft, black hair as he kneels between your legs.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he coos, pulling away from your dripping core. you whine at the loss of contact, and dick chuckles at your misery. his lips glisten with your fluids as he trails one of his slender fingers up your inner thigh. “talk to me.”

“keep going,” you breathe, widening your legs involuntarily. “please, dick, god—” you’re cut off by your own moan as he slides two of his fingers inside you. his lips return to your needy clit, sucking hungrily as his other hand snakes around to grope your ass. your legs begin to shake as he speeds up his pace, and his eyes look up to meet yours. you see him smile against your pussy as his fingers hit that spongy spot in your walls, drawing out an incoherent string of profanities with his name woven through them.

seeing you like this drives dick crazy, and he’s unsure if you know it. the way your body responds to him is one of his favourite things, even if sometimes he plays little games to get you where he wants you. the sight of your expensive dress crumpled up around your contracting abdomen has his pupils blown wide. god, you’re so fucking beautiful. his cock strains painfully against his pants, but he ignores the ache in favour of working your pretty pussy the way only he knows how to. besides, he knows you’ll take good care of him later.

you feel the coil in your belly tighten until it starts to snap, your orgasm drawing dangerously close. dick curls his fingers again, coaxing you to the edge. thoughts of the gala unfolding right outside slip from your mind, and your knees buckle as you reach your peak. “dick, fuck, I’m—”

your breath hitches as you cum over his fingers, and you’re grateful his arms are there to keep you standing. his tongue works you through your climax until you’re bucking your hips away from the stimulation. he pulls away from your aching core, gazing at the glistening mess between your thighs with pride.

he rises to meet your eyes and kisses you hotly, your high still on his lips. you clutch at his shoulders, breathing in his scent as you kiss him back. his muscular arms trap you in a tight hug, and his piercing blue eyes crinkle at the corners with the boyish grin that spreads across his face as he takes in your dazed expression.

“so,” he says smugly, gently running his thumb over the corner of your lip where he smudged your lipgloss. “am I forgiven?”

#dick grayson is a munch #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing imagine #dc comics #dc x reader #martiniluvr

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joonsytip · 4 months

Text

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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rintoshis-archived · 1 year

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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 '𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk

🎸、 . *. ⋆ warnings; mentions of blood, profanities, 'breakup', makeup sex-ish, slight angst, vaginal penetration, no p in v, biting, mentions of piercings (hobie), poor attempt at British slang, parents in house, lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 935

The rapid knocking on your window didn't falter even from the stormy weather that the sky was going through. The clock strikes 1:34 am, the light shining on the figure that was trying to get in by your window.

''Let me in... I know 'ya see me...'' The shadow had spikes on top of its head, and a guitar strapped on its back. The voice echoes from your window, only urging you to open the door. The raspiness and toned sound gave you an idea of who it was.

''Holy fuck, Hobie what the hell-'' His body fell on your carpet, limp and covered with bruises and cuts. His suit was busted, the fabric was ripping at the arms and the seams were threatening to open.

''What happened? Speak to me, Hobie.'' You quickly scooped his upper body to lean against your bed frame. You run towards your bathroom to grab a cloth and wet it with warm tap water. Your hands rummage through the cabinets, finding the band-aids and Betadine.

You approach Hobie's wet body on your rug, clearly swinging around the city while it was thundering. Someone didn't check the weather forecast... But you set that thought aside and wiped off the blood pooling on his cheek.

''I'm fine, babe.'' ''Don't call me that.'' Your words only seemed to puncture Hobie's ego rather than his body. ''Why not? Doncha love it?'' Your hands were a lot denser on his skin before he used the corny nickname on you. You and Hobie weren't so 'peachy' after that incident in one of his shows.

''Loosen' up, doll.'' Hobie's hand rests on your cheek, pushing away the stray hair strand from your face. Your hands swat his away and occupied themselves in getting the bandaids and the Betadine. ''Just cause I'm taking care of you now, doesn't solve our relationship, Brown.''

Your sudden call of his last name shot a bullet through his heart. He knew you were tough to crack, but if he had to go on his knees for you to forgive him he gladly would.

''Brown? What happened to 'Bee' or 'Love'-'' ''It died, Hobie.'' You put the last bandaid on his cheek, your face inching closer to his. His breath fanning on your nose and his eyes only piercing through yours.

''You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't love me.'' His words made your hands pinch his ear, a small frown appearing on your face. ''I'm only doing this because we're...'' Your words only faded away from the sudden thought of what you and Hobie were.

You didn't like labels yourself. But Hobie was the only one who could actually play your heart and make a tune. As corny as it sounds, Hobie didn't help the banging of your heart in your ribcage.

His eyes were looking directly at yours, winking at your cute frown. ''Friends?'' You pinched his ear again and rose up from his side. ''Bastard.'' Your words lightened his mood, but the spark remains.

Hobie stands up from your floor and follows your figure in the bathroom. His hand trails across your waist, your two reflections being seen in front of the mirror. Your hands grip the ceramic, letting Hobie corner you between the sink.

''If you didn't love me... You wouldn't let me do this, wouldn't 'ya?'' Hobie's hands slide under your pajamas, his hands pawing at your panties. ''Hobie...'' His free hand makes your way to yours, caging your hand in his.

''Mm, yeah? 'Ya know my name. Say it.'' His fingers set your panties aside, collecting your essence from your slit. A small moan comes out of your mouth. Your hand covers your mouth from spilling any more sound.

'''Bee, parents-' Hobie knew that your parents were in your home. In fact, a part of you thinks he came here for that sole purpose. ''I know, I know. Keep quiet for me, yeah? You can do that for me, can't you?'' You bite your palm once Hobie enters his fingers inside of your cunt, your juices pooling at your panties.

Your moans are muffled by your hand, his thumb toying with your clit. ''You like that, don't 'cha?'' His words enter your right ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. His cold rings hit your hot skin, and the sudden temperature change gave you goosebumps.

Even due to how odd it sounds, Hobie knew how to toy with your body just right. The way his fingers curl and crook inside of you, the pace of shapes circling on your sensitive clit, him pinching your nipples. He had known your anatomy more than you thought he did.

''Mm, right there?'' He was teasing you, the way your body shook under his touch only proved the impact he had on you. You could only moan for a response, your eyes closed at the knot tightening in your stomach.

Your hands let go of the cold ceramic of the sink, holding Hobie's hands through the fabric of your pajamas. ''Close? I can feel you. Fuck, so tight. Squeezing my fingers.'' Hobie kisses your neck, the cold metal of his piercings only made his sloppy kisses more pleasurable.

He bites the skin of your shoulders, ''Wanna keep me inside of you forever?'' You could only nod your head frantically, your legs close shakily. ''Cum for me.'' His words led you to your orgasm, your sweaty bodies sticking to each other from the heat of the moment.

''You know you love me.'' He grabs your chin and kisses your swollen lips.

the thoughts in my head with hobie only spiraled to this mess. i hope you guys enjoy this either way:) ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

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heavenlyraindrops · 2 months

Text

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter One ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter One Warnings: Slight mention of blood, profanity, mild violence Visit the first tag on this post to see all other chapters.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter One]

♱♱♱

“What?”

You stared at Adam incredulously, wings almost stuttering to a stop mid-air. He stared back, unfazed at your reaction as you backed away and up from him, mind reeling. You were both suspended in the air, held up by your moving wings, but you felt like you were going to plummet to the ground any second.

The recently opened Pentagram in the sky flickered at the edges around the gaping hole that had allowed the angels to enter Hell. To be fair, you weren’t supposed to be there- you weren’t an exterminator, but Adam had managed to get you permission to join him, arming you with a spear and calling it protection. Plus, if you wanted to go, it wasn’t like the Seraphim would object. It wasn’t a secret, the soft spot they had for you- although, unlike Adam, you did your best to abstain from exploiting it for your every whim.

“What’s the big deal?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t wanna marry me? I’m the First-“

“First Man, I know,” you frowned, voice strained, at his blatant arrogance. “But Hell in the middle of an extermination isn’t exactly the place to propose to someone, Adam.”

“I was gonna say First Dick,” he grumbled. “Why the fuck you gotta be so complicated? Just fuckin’ say yes. I’m the First Di- Man, you’re the purest soul in Heaven, it only makes sense-“

You balled your fists, forcing yourself to keep a level head. “Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to marry you?”

Adam almost seem to freeze in mid-air. His still beating wings gave it away. “Why the fuck not?” He snarled. You flinched, and his face softened slightly.

“You know I won’t stop trying until you say yes,” he declared. You rolled your eyes, raising up and away into the red sky.

“Just stop trying,” you snapped, and with a powerful beat of your wings you set off into the distance, ignoring Adam’s calls, voice chasing after you, commanding you to stay back.

Your eyes streamed against the wind. You knew Adam liked you, he hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, but there was a lot of stuff he wasn’t quiet about- a lot of stuff which, ultimately, was a turn off for you. You were definitely never going to marry him, and the sheer audacity for him to propose to you so casually, in the middle of Hell, just pissed you off in a way you couldn’t describe.

You sighed. There was no point dwelling on it now. A large silhouette in the distance began to form more clearly. A large- manor? Palace? You glanced down at the streets swooping away beneath you. They were deserted.

Weird. You mentally shrugged. People probably just didn’t want to get caught out in the middle of an extermi-

BANG!

Angelic bullets? Your mind barely registered the thought.

A searing pain stabbed into your wing, which went stiff. For a horrifying moment you were suspended in mid-air, your wings flapping frantically as you tried to stay up, a terrified cloud of feathers and limbs, before another BANG! tore through your remaining functional wing.

You screamed as you flapped your wings a few more pathetic times, careening straight towards the manor-palace. You crashed through a window, taking the curtains down with you, the glass showering you unceremoniously, cutting into your skin as you lay sprawled across the floor in a cloud of feathers. Your spear clattered onto the floor next to you, your wing twitching painfully.

You barely even managed to notice your own blood until you focused your vision. The light from the broken window filtered across your body, a slit cutting across the dark, shadowy room. Your gilded blood glinted in it, seeping into the carpet and the curtains which were buried beneath your weak form, staining the pure white of your splayed out wings.

A single white feather drifted down from the air and landed on your arm. You coughed. Gold sputtered from your lips and trickled down the side of your mouth.

Charming, you thought dryly.

The door of the room opened. You could just barely hear the creak above the blood pounding in your ears. You gulped, hearing footsteps get closer and closer to you-

“Well well well. What do we have here?”

I’m royally screwed, you thought, closing your eyes and waiting for the killing blow.

Instead, gentle, gentle hands touched your face, turning it towards the light and scraping hair away from your eyes. You flinched at the touch, then relaxed as the voice whispered something. You couldn’t make it what it was saying, but it was soothing. And calm. Your breathing evened out. You just barely managed to lift your heavy eyelids.

“Who are you?” Your mouth formed the words but your voice couldn’t get them past your throat without them coming out cracked and gravelly. The voice hushed you. You couldn’t make out the person's face. They were just a pale, blurry silhouette, leaning over your body.

“Close your eyes,” the voice said. “You’re safe now.”

You obeyed.

♱♱♱

You jolted, feeling a presence next to you. The warmth radiated off of them. You could sense their being there.

It was a struggle to unglue each eye open, and when you did, everything was blurry- it took you a few seconds to even realize you were in a bed. The soft covers rustled against your cheek, until you sat up. You blinked slowly and looked around, taking in your surroundings.

“Awake that quickly?”

You flinched, wings bursting out in alarm, unfurled over your head. The man sitting next to the bed you lay on raised an eyebrow, smirking. You gulped. “Who are you?”

“Never mind that.” He stood up, shaking down his rolled up sleeves. “How are your wings?”

You realized that they were still arched out from your back. You furled them back into your back, mortified. You also realized that they were painless.

“They’re healed,” you said breathlessly. The man flashed a prideful grin, revealing his sharp teeth. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“How?”

“Simple. I healed them.”

You frowned, pressing your back against the wall to get as far away from him as possible. He simply stood there, crossing his arms. You blinked, slowly.

“Thank…you?”

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly. You tilted your head as he beckoned for you to stand up, which you did slowly. You glanced out the window. This one wasn’t shattered, and the curtains hung proudly. You were in a different room than the first. The red sky beyond glared at you tauntingly.

“How long was I out?”

“Oh, not long. Don’t worry. The extermination’s still on.” He winked at you. “Your pretty self won’t be stuck here until the next one.”

You remained silent, staring at him, begging to God that your blush wasn’t showing on your face.

It must have been, because his grin only widened.

“Why did you save me?”

“My own selfish desires, of course.” He flicked his hand at a pair of chairs. “Sit down.”

Not knowing what to say, you complied. He sat opposite you. You leaned forward slightly, scanning his face for a single expression that might betray what was going to come next. You found nothing.

He sat back, completely relaxed, which unnerved you more than you could admit. The light hit off of his blond hair and pale skin that made him seem almost… angelic. You knotted your fingers together in your lap, biting your lip and waiting for him to speak.

“So. An angel, huh? You don’t look like an exterminator. How’d you find yourself down here?” His voice seemed to darken a little with his next words. “Did you… fall?”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Of course I didn’t fall,” you spat. You weren’t usually hostile, but the anxiety of the situation was pressing down on you far too hard. “I got special permission to come down by the Seraphim.”

The sinner raised an amused eyebrow at your outburst.

“And who are you to ask me anything?” You continued, frazzled. “A mere sinner-“

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

You clamped your lips shut at his tone. He smiled, satisfied, and continued.

“So, the Seraphim. Why’d they let you down here? They’re not the type to bend rules like that.”

“How would you know?” You said. “I said I wanted to go, they let me.”

“They must have a soft spot for you, then.” His eyes narrowed. “Or, you’re important.”

“I’m nowhere near important,” you snapped, crossing your arms. He nodded slowly. You couldn’t tell if he believed you or not.

For what seemed like another hour he continued to shoot questions at you, mostly about Heaven, and you hesitantly answered. You didn’t know why you stuck around as long as you did- refusing to acknowledge to yourself the sort of charm that beheld, the fact that he was so undeniably attractive, which you would never admit to yourself.

You relaxed when you heard him speak next: “You can go now. The Pentagram will close soon.” Pause. “Can you fly?

You stood up, dusting yourself off, and nodded before turning towards the window, which had magically pushed itself open.

“Wait,” he called out. You turned. “You should take this.” Your angelic spear materialised in front of you, dropping down into your hands.

You clambered out the window and jumped off, before hovering before it and turning to face him. The beat of your wings made the curtains sway. He leaned out, staring at you expectantly, as if he could sense what you were going to say.

“Now will you tell me your name?” You asked irritably. He smirked again, showing his sharp teeth this time. Your heart thumped in your chest.

“‘Course I can, angel. The name’s Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” His grin widened as he winked again. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The words knocked the breath out of you almost immediately. For a minute you froze, standing there like a deer in headlights before turning and swooping away into the red sky, towards the closing Pentagram.

The name’s Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar. The words echoed around your head relentlessly.

“Fuck.”

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

Taglist: @ica1, @boredlime, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter

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jayjj7 · 3 months

Text

Bad Habits

Chaewon x reader

❤︎ ໋𓈒 synopsis: after baking a large portion of cookies, chaewon thinks it would be nice to give some to her new neighbor as a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift, only to find out her neighbor is the prettiest girl she’s laid her eyes on.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 pairings: chaewon x reader, non idol au, wlw, friends to lovers

❤︎ ��𓈒 staring: le sserafim, nmixx

❤︎ ໋𓈒 warnings: profanity, angst, slow burn(?), fluff, jealousy, EVERYTHING IS FICTION

accounts: sakura’s subs | gossip girls

chapters:

1. down fall

2. cooking

3. escape

4. last time

5. moving in

6. overworked

7. cookies

8. reveal

9. embarrassing

10. the start

11. stalker

12. neighbor

13. loser

14. reactions

15. stressed out

16. linger

17. for you

18. love me back

19. poison

20. infrunami

21. melting

22. c u girl

23. roommates

24. hesitating

25. so long

26. in a good way

27. tell me

28. little shit

29. walk

30. ruined

31. calm before the storm

32. gone, gone thank you

33. hold me down

34. the way things go

35. don’t cope

36. saturn

37. experiment

38. valentina

39. plan

40. redemption

41. close

42. tip toe

43. dunk

44. forgiveness

45. end

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daemonsversion · 4 months

Text

Hightower Girl | Daemon x Reader

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Female (Hightower) Reader

Summary: Sometimes it seems like Daemon has made it his life's mission to annoy you as much as possible. However, when he learns that your father has practically arranged a marriage for you, a long hidden desire comes raging to the surface.

Content etc: profanity, slight masturbation but not really, smut (fingering, loss of virginity) I never know what to put here tbh. Sorry for any mistakes, I only read back through it once or so.

Word count: 6,935 (my first fic on this page was NOT meant to be this long help)

The air held a chill as you turned your gaze up to the sky. You were standing at one of the large windows, looking out over the courtyard as the morning light continued to grow. It was beautiful to look at, yet the chill felt similar to the one that ran through your heart.

With a sigh, you turned away and retreated down the corridor. Last night your father, Otto Hightower, had told you of his plans to marry you off to one of the lords on the small council. You would, quite frankly, rather eat your own head but when you tried to protest all he'd done was get upset with you and tell you it was long overdue that you wed.

So you had been in a downward spiral ever since, trying to decide what - if anything - you could do to get out of it. It was a feeling of powerlessness that had you in its grip as you lamented that there might actually be nothing that you could do about it. Unfortunately, in many ways, you were seen as your father's property. To effectively sell off as he saw fit.

You didn't see him at first. Your eyes were fixed firmly ahead as you walked but they were not really working as they should. You had tunnel vision, moving mainly on autopilot. It wasn't until you'd walked right into Prince Daemon and trodden on his foot that you realised he was anywhere in the vicinity.

"Ah-careful!" He hissed, though not out of real anger, just a bit of surprise and pain because you'd really stomped down on his toes without meaning to. His hands had shot up to your shoulders, pushing you away from him, holding you at arms length.

Your gazes met at the same time and he blinked, abruptly letting go of you and stepping back, his eyes looking you up and down. "Oh." Hightower girl.

You frowned at his reaction but you were not in the mood today to get into an argument with the prince of the city, though some days you almost lived for it. "Forgive me, I was not looking where I-"

"No. I daresay you were not." Daemon smoothly interrupted, causing a flash of irritation to go through you. As much as you tried to conceal it, it did not go unnoticed and his lip curled into an amused smirk.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes now full of mischief as he saw the reaction he'd drawn out of you. Very similar to the ones you often drew from him, merely by the circumstance of your birth. He had not the stomach for Hightower cunts, after all, but he had absolutely found some use for you - getting to make you scowl and want to stomp your pretty little foot was the highlight of his day sometimes.

"You know, if you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask." He purred, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

Your own hand immediately came up to slap his away before he could even touch you. Daemon chuckled, straightening up and letting his eyes roam down your form once more, from head to toe. This time it felt like there was something more than just derision there... and a sort of heat started to creep through you. Once his eyes met yours again, he gave you another one of his irritating smirks and then turned on his heel and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

With a glare, you watched him leave, ignoring the deep ache that started to gnaw at you somewhere within and then you turned away and continued about your business.

Idiot.

Hours later, your frustrated footsteps took you through the keep, away from your father's office, out into the fresh air. The expression on your face was anything but happy, the argument you had just had with Otto fresh in your mind. You had, of course, gone to him intending to have a very levelheaded conversation about all of this but as usual it had descended into madness.

'It is high time you wed and start a family of your own, I have coddled you too long. Grow up. You will marry him.'

The words were spinning in your mind as you exited and stormed out to the Godswood. Not for any reason other than the fact that you knew it would be empty of people and your main desire was to be alone.

You didn't even want to talk it out with your little sister right now because you knew Alicent would only try and defend him. Ever the little appeaser, she would probably say that Otto was only doing what he thought was best. If he wanted to do what was best for you, why not let you marry someone you wanted, when you wanted?

A large pair of hands suddenly gripping you by the waist from behind and pulling you backwards, flush up against a hard body, startled you from your web of thoughts.

"You know the Gods aren't actually listening, don't you?" Daemon's lips grazed your hair and his breath was hot in your ear.

With a squeal, you scrunched in on yourself, squirming out of his grasp, twisting around to shove him away by the chest. "Daemon!" Your tone was scolding.

He only chuckled, leaning against the nearest tree as he looked back at you. "What?" He asked innocently.

You could only frown. Usually you had no problem giving back what you got but you simply don't have the heart for any of it today.

"Oh, what?" Daemon practically sneered, his lip curling as he stared at you. "Cat got your tongue, Hightower girl?" He knew your name but he never bothered to use it, simply out of a desire to further annoy you. You only ever called him by his name and he never called you by yours.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a look but there was not as much fire in it as usual and he found that this disappointed him a little.

"I saw you leaving your father's office." Daemon continued, watching the way your jaw tightened just slightly. He smirked. "Is it your cunt of a father that has upset you, hm?"

Where he expected to see a scowl at his insult against Otto, perhaps even a little fight, you instead huffed a humourless laugh and threw your hands up in a defeated manner. Upset was an understatement, you felt so far beyond just upset.

Daemon frowned, his expression becoming more serious. Well, teasing you was no fun if you did not react in the way he had become accustomed to. It seemed that he might have hit the nail on the head here without even really meaning it - he thought your mournful look was due to his presence, though now that he thought about it you had stormed out here in something of a temper. He had followed you all the way from inside, after all, so he'd seen the swiftness of your steps.

"What has he done now?" He asked then, studying your face with a look you rarely saw on him.

"Nothing." You mumbled, looking down at the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was pour your heart out to Daemon fucking Targaryen.

"It does not look like nothing." Was all the prince said in response.

Just that, not a hint of mockery in his tone, and you lifted your head to frown at him again. He did not look his usual level of cruel amusement. He looked almost like he... actually just wanted to know. That couldn't be right.

However, something about that made you just blurt the words out. Your father had basically sold you off to one of those stupid, stuffy lords on the small council. You had no choice and you felt like you were suffocating!

After you finished venting, Daemon's expression changed again. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you caught the slight narrowing of his eyes as he stared at you in silence. The smugness seemed to have been wiped completely from his face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him without it.

"What?" You asked, confused now as well as frustrated. Why was he not making fun of you about this? Why was he not taunting you with your looming fate?

Daemon gave the slightest shake of his head, his gaze dropping away from your face slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again as if he'd changed his mind. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and then he turned his face, looking away over the trees.

Your gaze had dropped to his mouth but you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach that the glimpse of his tongue gave you and tried to focus.

"What?" You asked again, a little more firmly this time. Daemon's silence was setting you on edge.

"What do you mean, what?" Daemon practically hissed as he turned his face back towards you.

Your glare returned at his tone. That was more like it. More familiar. "What do you think I mean? What is your problem?"

"You are my problem!" Was his furious reply as he took a step towards you.

"I have never done anything to you!" You exclaimed back. It was always him! Starting an argument or saying something snide in passing. He'd started this whole thing! If you were such a problem, why did he keep seeking you out just to bother you?

"Oh, do not act as though you are blind!" Daemon said, exasperated.

"What are you talking about?" You could not understand how a discussion about your predicament had spun so out of control. Why was he so angry? He was the one who'd asked! You were the one who was being given to some random man! "This is typical Daemon Targaryen. Everything is always about y-"

"You know very well that I have desired you, do not try and deny it!" Daemon snapped.

The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. You stared at him, your expression now one of shock. He stared back, his one of anger and also regret for speaking the words aloud.

"You..." Was all you could get out before you fell silent once more. This did not make sense.

In one of the most surprising moves he had ever pulled on you, Daemon closed the remaining distance in an instant. Taking your face in between his hands, he held you in place for a moment as his dark gaze burned across your features, and then his mouth descended upon yours and you were thrown so far into shock you were not sure you would ever come back from it.

His kiss was hot and passionate and his tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening as you... kissed him back, the desire that had been fighting for attention inside you for years now taking control.

His hands moved from your face and took hold of your waist as his mouth continued to explore yours, guiding you backwards towards the tree and pressing you gently up against it. You would have expected him to be rough and quick but he was not. His touch was gentle and soft and your heart was practically flying in your chest.

His body pressed up against yours as he deepened the kiss and you couldn't stop a soft sound of desire leaving you. It spurred Daemon on as a hand moved up from your waist, sliding up over your dress. He groaned into your mouth at the shape of you and you felt like you were on fire.

Only when Daemon's fingers began to fiddle with the lacing at the front of your bodice did you come back to your senses, turning your face to break the kiss and the hands that had moved to grasp his shirt began to push him away. "Stop... stop..."

The kiss stopped but Daemon did not immediately move away, his nose grazing your hair and his breath now hot against your ear as he fought to get his lust under control.

Eventually, he pulled away, his hands leaving you, stepping back to put distance between you both.

You were in an absolute whirlwind. Had that actually just happened? You had kissed Daemon. Daemon had kissed you. He'd been desiring you? For how long? Why? He hated you, did he not? You had so many questions and a moment later you turned your face back so you could see him.

Daemon stood where he was for another few moments, breathing heavily as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he suddenly turned on his heel and started walking off.

"Daemon!" You called, stepping after him in surprise. What? He was just going to leave? This was not finished!

The prince said not another word, nor did he turn around, simply picked up his pace and disappeared.

The night was quiet.

The hour of the wolf had come and you had still not managed to fall asleep. It was not just your marriage predicament playing on your mind this night, it was also the moment with Daemon in the Godswood.

His hands on your waist. His tongue in your mouth.

You would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you had never imagined it before. Despite the way he often spoke to you, and the remarks or looks you sometimes even gave him back, you had always had that funny feeling around Daemon. Try as you might (because he was a complete bastard, there was no denying it) you just hadn't been able to shake it. That desire.

Desire. He'd said he had desired you. How long had he felt that way? Why had he never said or done anything? To be fair, you knew why, and it probably had everything to do with your father.

Otto Hightower was the snake in Daemon's boot.

You thought about the way he'd looked at you when you'd told him about Otto's plan to marry you off. The speechlessness you had never witnessed before. The way his anger had risen quite quickly, causing him to just blurt out these apparently hidden feelings he'd been harbouring.

Your thoughts began to wander, wondering what would have happened if you had just let him continue what he'd been doing. If you'd let him pull at the laces of your dress and go further. He'd already had you up against the tree, what would it have been like if you'd just... let him take you?

As you imagined it, an ache began to grow steadily down between your thighs. Sighing, you squirmed. It was too late for this! You needed to sleep... yet it would not go away and your thoughts would not quiet.

With a frustrated noise, you shifted and your hand slid beneath the sheets. You couldn't believe that you were about to do this. Touch yourself to the thought of Daemon fucking Targaryen. That rude, arrogant, self-centred...

Your eyes drifted closed as you pulled the hem of your nightdress up and moved your fingers where you wanted - no, needed - them.

The lightest of touches was all you were afforded before you heard the sound of soft knocking at the door. You flinched, eyes flying open again as you sat up on your elbows and stared at the door with a frown.

The hour was so late. Who could that possibly be?

"Who is it?" You eventually called out, in case it was Alicent or maybe a guard informing people of a problem - though you had not heard any activity in the halls.

Instead of receiving a reply, your heart leapt into your throat as the door was simply pushed open upon hearing you were awake and a figure slipped into the room. It took you a moment to realise it was not any old intruder.

"Daemon!" Your heart rate slowed again, though not by much. The fact he was here at all was very improper.

He did not speak but stayed standing by the now closed door, staring at you through the darkness.

His silent, lingering presence in your dark chamber unnerved you slightly. "What are you doing?" You hissed.

Daemon blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie he'd found himself in. He had been staring at you in the bed, not having been prepared for the sight even though he'd known logically you would be in it. "I thought that we should speak." He said, taking a step away from the door.

You sat up even further in the bed. "At this hour? In my chambers? You should not be here."

"I could not sleep." He said simply. Even through the darkness you could see the way his gaze flickered very quickly over your sheet-covered form.

"What has that got to do with me?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. Had he been thinking about it too? Had it kept him awake as it had kept you?

Daemon's slight smirk returned as he took another step towards the bed and slowly moved to sit down on the edge of it. He wanted to touch you but he refrained. You were right, it was late and inappropriate but he just hadn't been able to rest. He had been pacing a hole in the floor of his own room for the past few hours.

You shifted in the silence that followed, refusing to be the first to break it. Your eyes were glued to him.

"I would say sorry about earlier," his voice came again. "But I would not mean it."

"Why are you here, Daemon?" You asked, ignoring what he'd just said completely.

He smiled a little wryly and his gaze dropped briefly to the low neckline of your nightdress and back up to your face. The moonlight streaming in through your window was the only thing illuminating the room.

"I think you know why I am here." He murmured, lifting a hand as if to reach for you face.

As earlier in the day, you lifted your own hand and lightly smacked his away before he could touch you. "I am not one of your whores!" You snapped, offended.

"Give yourself to me and I will never take another whore again, I swear it." Daemon said simply, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving your face.

"What?" You leaned backwards but the pillows didn't let you move too far from him. You could feel that ache again... the closer he got, the more he spoke.

"I mean it, I am being serious." He stated, lifting his hand again to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek. This time you let him. "You do not wish for your father to marry you off to that stuffy idiot." He whispered, shifting closer. "Well, neither do I." His tone had darkened a little on that, taking on an almost possessive quality that made your heart somersault. "I presume you are a maiden." It tended to be something of a good bargaining chip for arranging unions between houses, after all.

Daemon's touch travelled slowly down your cheek towards your jaw and he eventually curled his long fingers under your chin, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Give yourself to me," he repeated. "And I will deflower you and make it known... the marriage will be over before it is even begun." He knew this particular lord well and he knew he would not want a wife who had been sullied.

You stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment, trying to ignore the tightening in your belly and the racing of your heart at his proximity and his words. "To what end?" You asked in a helpless little whisper. "I would not have to marry this lord, no, but then what? I will surely be...-" Unwanted by most, seen as ruined perhaps, used. And gods the fury of your father when he found out...

As much as you desired him you did not want to be just one of Daemon's conquests, especially when it would leave you ostracised with no options while he continued to swan around doing whatever he wanted with no consequences. Oh, to be a man, you thought bitterly.

However, you did not get to finish your thought as Daemon interrupted, with a frustrated little frown on his face as if he'd expected you to piece that together on your own. "You would marry me."

A silence followed in which the two of you simply stared at each other. You were stunned. Did he mean that or was he being annoying? Despite the frustration on his face, which was also kind of born from his lust, you got the feeling he wasn't making fun of you. Not this time.

"What?"

"I said you would marry me, Hightower girl, are you deaf?"

A small scowl appeared on your face at his response and you pulled your face from his grasp. No, you were not deaf, but it was a bit of a bloody shocking thing for him to say, wasn't it?

"I have a name you know, you arrogant-!" You cut yourself off before you could say something too terrible but the irritation remained on your face. He had never in all the years you'd known him told you off for not using a title with him, yet he had also never called you by your own name from what you could recall. No doubt he had probably long forgotten it!

Daemon smirked at the sudden rise of fire in you. You had been off for most of the day due to wallowing in your misery and fighting with you had not felt quite as satisfactory as it usually did.

"There she is." He muttered, reaching for your face again. This time he took it with both hands like he had in the Godswood and he stared directly into your eyes, amusement shining on his face as he said your name.

Something about it falling from his lips, the way his mouth moved as he spoke it, coupled with the slowly growing desire in his eyes made you cave. Something flickered in your eyes. Daemon saw it and he immediately took it as a yes and leaned in. You did not object, tilting your head slightly once his mouth came down on yours, kissing him deeply.

A moment later his hands left your face and he was tugging at you to get you to lie back down. You shifted, still reeling slightly, and lay down again in the bed. Your heart was racing. You should not be doing this.

Any further thought was momentarily ceased as Daemon slid over top of you, hovering for a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take in as much as they could of you through the dark. "You are beautiful." He mumbled, so quiet that you thought he'd probably said it accidentally. His mouth immediately descending upon your own to prevent any response strengthened this thought.

You kissed him back right away, not in the state of mind to fully think on it anyway. Your desire was rising and the ache that had kept you awake was growing once more.

You made a small sound into his mouth which made Daemon press his body down against yours a little. The contact just made you feel hotter.

His hand slowly moved up to the neckline of your nightgown and this time you did not try to stop him. You let his fingers tug at the little ties, feeling it loosen with each one he pulled free. Your heart was now hammering so hard in your chest that you wondered how you had not passed out.

This is wrong, your mind was screaming.

But if it was wrong... then why did it feel so right?

Your thoughts ceased again when Daemon's fingers touched the bare skin of your right breast, having gotten the laces at the bust undone while you were kissing. You made a sound into his mouth and then he broke the kiss, pulling back so he could look down at you, wanting to see you properly.

The light in the room was dim but his eyes were keen enough and he groaned at the sight of you, gently pulling the rest of the fabric aside.

Again, Daemon continued to surprise you. Earlier, in the Godswood you remembered expecting his kiss or his movements to be rough and demanding yet it had been soft and gentle. In bed, you had imagined (yes, shamefully, you had imagined) Daemon ripping clothes off impatiently and taking what he wanted, yet he was taking his time undressing you and he was looking at you like you were something special, not just a body he wanted to use.

There was a funny, fluttery feeling in your stomach that you ignored as Daemon's eyes met yours again. He just held your gaze for a few seconds and then his lips were on yours once more. While his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers roamed your breasts - pinching, rubbing, tweaking, caressing - until you were squirming and whining.

You felt the beginnings of one of his trademark smirks and he broke the kiss with a chuckle, pulling back and looking down at you with amused eyes. Before you could complain about his teasing, a hand reached down and began to pull the skirt of your nightdress higher up your legs.

Briefly, you tensed. You tried to hide it but Daemon, who had been watching you very closely, immediately stopped his hand.

"Tell me to stop..." He said quietly. "And I will."

You could have. You could have told him to stop. You could have pushed him off. You could have told him to get out of your room. You could have stopped this whole insane plan right there and then.

But you didn't.

Because you wanted him.

You shook your head and Daemon raised an eyebrow, still not moving. He needed more than that.

You wriggled in frustration. "Please." You muttered, a little embarrassed to seem like you were begging for it, but Daemon did not mock you. His gaze seemed to darken with desire and his fingers clawed at the fabric once more, pulling it all the way up your thighs, wanting access to you. He might not seem it but he was growing impatient. He could feel the proof of it straining against his breeches, practically screaming to be let out.

But he would not be selfish and greedy. Not tonight. Not with you.

His fingers reached your most forbidden area and your mind immediately went blank once more, a gasp catching in your throat as he began to touch you there. His eyes did not leave your face once, wanting to see every little expression of pleasure that passed across it.

Daemon let out a groan when his fingers slid up and down your centre, feeling how wet you already were for him. He could scarcely believe his luck, it took everything not to just hold you down and finally make you his.

It was all he had been thinking about for months, probably even longer. Every whore he'd fucked to try and banish the thought of you from his mind had only succeeded in lodging you deeper into his heart.

He circled your clit a few times, drinking in the way you writhed at the sensation and then he slipped a finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and he felt you tense slightly once more, an involuntary reaction. He'd felt such a reaction many times before. This was not his first deflowering.

"Shh.." He soothed, leaning in to press soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. "Shh... relax."

Daemon began to move his finger slowly, to allow you to become accustomed to the feeling. He felt you relaxing in response to his kisses and his gentle movements and soon it felt nice and you were making those sweet little sounds once more. He swiped his thumb over your clit again and then inserted a second finger, moving them both in and out with a gentle rhythm.

His lips came back to yours and he stayed like this for a little while, tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers worked you, slowly increasing speed. Your body felt hot, you were shaking and moaning... and Daemon was growing more and more turned on.

When he finally drove you to climax, he could take no more and he grunted, pulling his mouth from yours and leaning back to watch you come undone on his fingers. You were almost dizzy from the stars he'd just made you see but your eyes reopened as you felt him move away, whimpering slightly as his fingers left your heat.

You heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your heart started to race.

His fingers were starting to becoming impatient as he freed himself of his bothersome clothing and then moved himself back on top of you. When he kissed you this time, you felt something pressing up against you that was certainly not his hand. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth.

Daemon's lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw to your neck. He let them linger there, kissing and licking your skin as his hand moved back down your body, caressing your breasts and familiarising himself with the shape of you. He gently nudged your legs apart with his knee, trying not to rush too much because the last thing he wanted to do was go too fast and ruin the experience for you, but he wanted you to badly by this point it was almost painful.

Your body was on fire and your mind was focused on nothing but him, him, him. If there had been any lingering doubts anywhere inside of you, there wasn't any longer. You wanted this. You craved it. You had craved it for a long time, though you had not fully let yourself think it.

Daemon's hand took hold of his length and he gave himself a lazy stroke as his teeth gently grazed against your neck. The scent of you and the way you were responding to him was driving him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. For you to finally be his.

He guided himself to your cunt and began to slide himself through your wetness, not quite pressing in yet, teasing you over and over as he got you used to the feeling of him.

You whimpered desperately.

Daemon groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Gods, I want you." He muttered. He was frustrated, almost guilty, that he had not the patience to spend more time on your body. He wanted to taste you, but he told himself next time.

"Please..." You whispered, once more practically begging him. The feeling of his cock gliding through your slick was too much, you needed more, you needed to feel him. "Please." You said again, in a whine that caused Daemon to groan again in response.

He pulled his head back and looked down at you. "Say you want me."

"I want you." The words fell from your lips easily. They were true. They had always been true.

"I want you too." He whispered, leaning back in to kiss you one more time before he pulled away again and then shifted slightly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time as he began to press himself into you, your arousal making it so easy for him to slide himself into your heat.

Gods, the slick between your thighs made you feel like such a wanton little thing. He almost growled.

Another few seconds and he was buried inside you. He gave a deep moan as he pressed his face back into your neck, dizzy on the feeling. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the tension rise in you once more though and he leaned back up, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your face and jaw again.

"Shh..." He soothed once more as he heard your breath catch in your throat when he shifted his body. He had gotten you ready for him and been as gentle as he could but he knew you were hiding the fact it still hurt a little.

"Look at me." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and then looking down at your face. "Good girl." He purred when your eyes met his, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The praise awoke something inside you and you made a soft sound. He smirked slightly, having felt the fluttering of your walls around him. "Mhm. You liked that." Daemon teased.

If your face was not scarlet before, it was when he said that. Still, all panic had left your body as you were now just focused on the pleasure of the moment. When Daemon tested the waters by shifting his hips a little bit, a soft moan left you and he could tell it was feeling better for you. So he moved again. Then again. And again.

Soon, he had built up a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. The room filled with lewd sounds and you could do nothing but revel in it. The burn had faded and now each thrust of his hips gave you a jolt of pleasure. Daemon was good at this. You supposed it was to be expected with all the experience it sounded like he had.

He wanted to last. He really did. But he had wanted you for so long and he felt like he was about to burst with each little sound that left you, each little wriggle you made underneath him, each time your nails gently bit into his arms as you clung to him.

His movements began to get quicker and you whined as he rubbed repeatedly against a certain spot inside of you. He grunted hard as he realised the reaction you were having. Daemon, however, was slightly unhappy with something. You were not reaching release quick enough and he was worried, with the way things were going, that he would before you did. He would be damned if he left you unsatisfied.

He moved his hand back down between your bodies and found your clit again, circling the little bud with skillful fingers. It was not long after that you were trembling and then shattering as he pushed you over the edge once more.

The sounds that your release pulled from you were so hot that he pretty much fell apart there and then. He groaned helplessly and buried his face back into your neck, breathing heavily as he moved his hips a few more times, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he felt himself nearing completion. With a harsh moan, Daemon then spilled himself inside of you and collapsed on top of you.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing as the two of you lay there like that, tangled together, all hot and sticky. You felt utterly boneless. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was ragged, your heart racing, your body limp beneath his weight.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

"I will speak... to my brother to... tomorrow." Daemon muttered against your neck, slowly coming back to himself. Even if Otto held any reservations after what happened, Viserys would no doubt smooth them over somehow and convince him that you marrying Daemon was the best (and only) option to come out of this.

You could only hum in response, delighting in the kisses he began once more pressing against your skin. You felt warm and content and when he eventually moved and rolled off you, you couldn't hold in a sound of disappointment. Immediately you felt embarrassed but Daemon's arms coming around you and pulling you to him distracted you from it.

Opening your eyes, you blinked at him. "You can't stay."

"We are to be married." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. "I have taken you. Everyone will find out anyway." He reminded you. That was the plan after all.

"Yes, but..." Your cheeks felt hot but hopefully he would think you were just still coming down from the high because you partly were. The idea of being caught with a man (Daemon Targaryen of all people) in your bed was too scandalous. A step outside your comfort zone. "...you..."

"I will go, do not worry." Daemon purred in your ear, flicking his tongue out lightly over the outer edge, smirking as he felt you shiver. "I only want to hold you until you fall asleep. Does that not sound nice? Hm?" He did not say that he simply could not stomach the thought of just rolling out of bed and leaving you lying here all by yourself after your very first time. He did not want to leave you alone in the dark.

You sighed, acting bothered, but it did sound very nice and you were already so comfortable. He was very warm... so you were quick to relent. "Fine. But as soon as I am asleep..." Your voice held as much warning as you could muster.

Daemon chuckled softly, nodding as he adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed and pulling you up tighter against his body. "Yes, my lady." He said it as if you had given a command and he liked the way his teasing tone made you giggle.

It did not take you long to fall asleep. Indeed, you were so exhausted, you were out in a few minutes.

Unfortunately, Daemon was also so exhausted that he fell asleep mere moments after you did.

When Alicent entered your chambers the next morning, she got quite a shock... and quite an eyeful, as Daemon had kicked himself out of the covers at some point during the night, giving the poor girl an unfortunate glimpse of his backside that did not leave her memory for the rest of her days.

Her shriek was what caused your father to come running into the room. You were not sure you had ever seen Otto quite so angry in your whole life. After the initial shock wore off, you thought he might actually be so angry he would lay hands upon the prince but he managed to somehow hold himself back.

The look of disappointment was clear as your father turned his gaze on you but Daemon, now standing, shifted in front of you the second he saw it and blocked Otto's view.

If anyone would take Otto Hightower's anger, it would be him.

"What's say you and I go and have a talk with my brother, hm?" Daemon muttered, his eyes narrowed.

Otto stared at him with barely concealed rage. The last thing he wanted was his child linked to a man like Daemon Targaryen. He had been a thorn in his side for years. And now he had... defiled one of his daughters! He tried to look at you again but Daemon cleared his throat.

Otto glared at the prince. "You may wish to put on some clothes first." Was all he said before turning and sweeping from the room, dragging Alicent out by her elbow, letting the door slam behind them.

You would have burst into tears if you were not so shocked. You watched Daemon turn to pull his clothes back on. When he looked up at you, he was smirking.

"It's not funny!" You exclaimed.

"Oh, come on." He teased, sitting down on the bed and leaning closer. "It is a little bit funny."

You turned your head so he couldn't kiss you, frowning. You had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in your whole life. Though it would have come out anyway when Daemon told his brother and you confirmed but to have been walked in on by your father and sister was another thing entirely!

Daemon sighed, lifting a hand to your chin and gently turning your face back towards him. "I'm sorry."

"You said you would leave!"

Daemon blinked, feeling a little bit guilty because he could see this actually had been difficult for you. "I did not do it on purpose, I fell asleep!"

You scoffed. "Right."

"Hey. I mean it." He said and he looked and sounded so serious that you did believe him.

There was a brief silence and then Daemon smirked again.

"What?" You asked, half snapping at him.

Your tone did nothing to rid him of his smile, the smirk turning into a bit of a grin. "When I return," he said as he leaned in again. "You and I will be betrothed."

You could not stop your face from breaking into a smile of your own. "You seem very confident in that fact." After what he'd just walked in on, you were pretty sure your father would be vehemently against this, perhaps simply out of spite and anger.

"Don't you know by now, Hightower girl?" Daemon's eyes glinted with mischief as he closed the distance and kissed your lips once more. When you parted, he was smirking again. "I always get what I want."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon x you #hotd fanfic

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brummiereader · 9 months

Text

MASTERLIST

Hopelessly Devoted (PART ONE)

Summary: A flashback to when you and Tommy were young, carefree and smitten with one another plays out in your head as you sit alone in the Garrison, watching him now in the arms of another woman whilst you desperately hold onto the love you still have for him. Does Tommy share the same sentiments or has his bitterness towards you stained the love he claims he no long has for you?

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining

Authors note: Inspired by the song "Hopelessly Devoted" by Olivia Newton-John. RIP sweet angel.

"We're bloody late again!" your mother muttered under her breath as she hurried up the church steps holding onto her hat from the bitter January wind whilst you are your little brother George, lovingly known as Georgie walked behind her. "Ten minutes until we leave I said" she huffed turning around, scowling at you as you rolled your eyes in response. "Ten minutes! In the time it took for you to put your dress on I had swept the porch and gotten your brother ready. Why did you give me such an unruly child?" she said looking up to the heavens expecting some sort of response. "Out all hours gallivanting about with those Shelby boys, never listening to a word I say. I'm being punished aren't I, for the sins of her father...the bloody fool he was, drinking himself to an early grave, leaving me here to fend for myself with two kids..." she carried on as you held your little brothers hand, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he looked up at you, shaking his head at your mother's relentless rambling. " Y/N let me look at you. Bloody hell child, you look a state!" she frowned as she turned to face you at the top of the steps.

"Can you just stop" you said trying to move her hands away as she pushed your hair back behind your ears, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy glow. "Look at your dress..." she huffed as she straightened the bottom out, pulling at the frilly pink fabric whilst your little brother reached up to open the church door. "Stay still!" she said as you started fidgeting away from her hands, her overbearing mothering making you feel like you was eight years old again.

" For god's sake I'm not a kid!" you replied rather loudly when the doors fully opened and everyone in their seats turned around to look at the commotion. "Shit" you mumbled under your breath as you looked to the sea of eyes now staring back at you, the loud bang of the church door slamming against the brick wall startling you as your little brother giggled in amusement.

" Bloody Walk Y/N" your mother said through gritted teeth behind you as she took her and George's hat off. Smiling graciously left to right at the people seated along the outer rows your mother politely mouthed small hellos and good mornings as all three of you made your way down the aisle, her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips. Turning your head you quickly spotted Tommy sitting next to his family with a huge grin on his face, loving every second of the embarrassment he knew you was enduring. As the sound of your heels on the stone floor echoed loudly through the church, your entrance now the focus point of everyone's attention, you finally reached the alter with the Reverend stood beside it. You could almost feel the laughter Tommy and Arthur were holding back as your mother pushed you forward to bow. With a grunt leaving your throat you lowered your head, a small mischievous glint in your eye at the sudden, yet stupid idea to prove to your mother how unruly of a child you really was.

" Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been mere hours since I last pissed my mother off..." You said dramatically as your mother's eyes widened in embarrassment a gasp leaving her mouth as she grabbed you by the arm and span you back around, all while apologising profusely to the Priest now shaking his head at her. Oh the shame, the humiliation, she would never live this down. The gossip she would have to endure for months in the women's wash house was a fair consolation for her making you wear this god awful dress you proudly thought to yourself as you walked to find a seat. Sighing the Reverend lowered his eye as he turned the page of his sermon, longing to be appointed somewhere, anywhere out of Small Heath. No number of hail Mary's could save this sinful town. As you walked down the aisle the sudden sound of Tommy and Arthur laughing had you biting your inner cheek holding back your own amusement as you watched Polly snap her head in their direction.

" Shut up" Polly whispered as she reached over hitting each of them in the chest. "Bloody kids" she mouthed sympathetically to your mother as you all walked by.

" Girlfriend finally made it" Arthur whispered in Tommy's ear, knowing full well how smitten he was with you.

" Shes not my girlfriend, shut it" he muttered under his breath as you sent him a small wave which he quickly returned.

" Hi ya" Arthur laughed mocking him.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy replied as he elbowed him in the ribs leaving him wincing in pain.

" I'll let you have that one baby brother" he laughed rubbing his side.

" No fucking swearing in church!" Polly said quietly through gritted teeth as she hit the back of Tommy's head. It was always an eventful service when the Shelby's attended, which made you wonder what they had done to have their Aunt force them this time.

Walking out into the fresh air, free from the stuffy confines of the church you pushed back your hair behind your shoulders folding your arms as you faced the sun. Closing your eyes you sighed as the rays of light beamed onto your skin. With summer still a long way off you was enjoying the rare event in which the sun broke through the smoke filled skies of Small Heath. That was until you felt the warmth disappear and a large shadow take it's place. Opening your eyes you was met with Tommy Shelby standing right in front of you, a cigarette precariously hanging on the corner of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.

" Get out the way you're blocking the sun" you said as you pushed him to the side closing your eyes again.

" Hmm, you are looking rather pasty"

" Thanks Thomas, you really know how to compliment a lady" you said taking the cigarette out his mouth as you walked over to sit on the brick wall just outside the church.

"Lady?" Tommy laughed as he sent you a cheeky smile." Nice dress by the way. You look like a flower girl"

" Shut up" you said playfully hitting his arm in response, hating everything about the overly embroidered puffy dress you were begrudgingly wearing. " Have you seen yourself?" you smirked looking down at his outfit "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots.

" They're Arthur's hand-me-downs, the lanky git" he said kicking a stone on the ground that you both watched roll into the road.

" So what did you do this time to end up here on a Sunday morning?" You asked as you turned your head to face him.

" Aunt Pol found out Arthur stole one of the candelabras from the Reverends study. Convinced himself it was solid gold, you should have seen his face when we melted it down in Charlie's yard and it was copper" Tommy laughed as he looked back at you. " Polly was furious said he had sinned enough for the whole house and we were all damned to hell if we didn't come today" he explained further as his eyes lingered on your face, watching the way your nose scrunched up as you laughed, a sight he never got tired of. " So you coming later?" he asked leaning into you as he took his cigarette now stained with pink lipstick back from between your fingers, not that he minded.

" No absolutely not. Do you not remember the last time we followed one of Arthur's genius ideas?" you answered folding your arms having already made your mind up.

" He's got a map this time. Come on it will be fun" he said nudging his arm against yours.

" A map to what?"

" To where this rich fuck has all his liquor stored"

"Can I come?" John said running up to you both after overhearing the conversation, poking his brothers knee with a stick in attempt to get his attention which Tommy quickly put a stop to by giving him a kick in the shin.

" No, fuck off " Tommy said pushing him away from in front of him as John stormed off crying in search of his Aunt. " So how about it? "

" Fine, but only because it's your birthday tomorrow" you said giving in as you both smiled to eachother. "But this better be fool proof. I can't risk getting in trouble with my mum again, she's a few breaths away from kicking me out"

" That's alright, you can come live with me" he said winking to you as you looked up at him through your lashes, blushing a darker shade of pink than your dress." We'll come by to get you at eleven, don't be late ok? "

" I'm never late" you responded as Tommy rolled his eyes flicking his cigarette onto the ground. If there was one thing he had learnt over the years it was that you was always late.

" Thomas Michael Shelby! " Polly shouted as she stormed over to you both, dragging John with her by the arm.

"Shit. Right I'm off" Tommy said quickly pecking your cheek as he jumped over the wall running away from his Aunt. Bringing your hand up to your face you pressed your fingers to your skin, a smile dancing on your lips as you turned around to watch Tommy run into the back alleys of Small Heath, fleeing from the fury coming his way. Thomas Michael Shelby your best friend, your partner in crime and also the boy you had been head over heels for as long as you could remember. What a sorry story your limited love life had already been, endlessly pining for a boy you had convinced yourself only saw you as a friend, desperately hoping he felt the same.

It was just after noon when you Tommy and Arthur made your way over the wooden fencing onto the large mansions land. Having never once left the city limits in all of your eighteen years of life you was taken aback by the sheer size of the house in front of you. Surrounded by luscious green grass, rows of trees adorning its drive way, you was sure it was something only seen in films, a far cry from the mud and dirt of Small Heath.

" Give me the map" Tommy said as Arthur handed it to him whilst he looked over the brick wall separating you and the owner who was outside sitting in a garden chair.

"Arthur he has a dog. A mean looking thing" you said as Tommy stood beside you squinting at the map in his hand.

"Yeh well, he would have still been out with that dog hunting, but you were late" Tommy interjected with a smile on his face, having been right about your constant tardiness.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Y/N, I've been coming here every day for the past week feeding him leftovers, he likes me. He won't make a peep " Arthur said trying to reassure you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth.

" Jesus Christ Arthur" Tommy said throwing the map at his brothers chest. " This is a fucking map for a house in London!"

" Ay?" Arthur said as he straightened it out in front of him. " Where's it say that? " he asked as Tommy snatched it back from him pointing at the words "London" written right underneath the name of the house.

" Well how was I supposed to bloody know. They should have put it at the very top"

" It's in fucking capitals Arthur, how can you not..."

" Right I'm going home" you said as the two brothers continued to argue. As always Arthur's ideas were never properly thought out, often getting you in trouble more than anything else.

" Wait Y/N no, come on stay" Tommy said as he looked back to his older brother widening his eyes in gesture to help him convince you not to leave.

" Y/N " Arthur said as he put his arm around your shoulder. " We're at the back entrance. He probably keeps it down in the basement, it won't be far. You're the only one small enough to shimmy through the window to open the lock on the other side. Come on, dont let us down, it's Tom's birthday tomorrow. "

" Fine. But if I put another ladder in my stockings you're paying for a new pair" you said pointing to him as Arthur placed a wooden crate below the window for you to stand on.

"Atta girl" Arthur said as he turned his head around winking to Tommy as you climbed through the window, quickly making in through to the other side. Pushing past his brother, Tommy went to open the door when the dog Arthur promised wouldn't bark suddenly started to do exactly that.

" Hey! Who's there?" the owner said as you all ran into the house. " Get 'em boy" he shouted as his dog came charging round the corner into the building.

" Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level.

" What did you feed him with?" you asked breathlessly as you ran beside them, Tommy's hand resting on your back making sure you didn't get left behind.

"Sprouts"

"Sprouts!" You and Tommy both shouted looking back at him.

" It's all we had"

" No wonder he bloody hates you" Tommy said as all three of you came to a stop behind a wall waiting for a maid to walk by.

" Sniff them out" the owner said as you heard the sound of the dogs nails clicking on the wooden floorboards, getting closer by the second.

" Shiiit, run! Hide! Arthur giggled as you legged it down one of the second floor corridors, Tommy quickly pulling you into a small storage room to the side as Arthur continued to run down the hall. Breathless, you both looked up at eachother as a fit of laughs left your lips. Bringing his finger up to his mouth Tommy gestured for you to be quiet as the sound of the owner walking along the corridor quickly brought your giggles to a stop. Taking in your surroundings you suddenly realised how close you were to eachother. Cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling all around you, there was barely enough space for one person let alone two.

" Is he gone?" you whispered to which Tommy nodded, his eyes looking over you as he too started to realise how close you were to one another." You're taking all the space" you said trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position you was in.

" Y/N my backs pushed up against the door. I don't have any more room to move" he said as you huffed in response moving your arm that was stuck between you to the side. Silence fell upon the small room as you continued to fidget in place whilst Tommy cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you and the surrounding boxes.

" What? Why do you keep looking at me like that" you said with a thrown on your face.

" I'm not looking at you like anything" Tommy replied as he quickly glanced away. With your focus now elsewhere, Tommy's eyes drifted down to both of your bodies pressed up against eachother, biting his inner cheek in attempt to rid himself of all the thoughts going through his mind. Taking in every delicate feature of your face, Tommy felt his heart quicken as he continued to stare down at you. God you were beautiful, he had been wanting to tell you those very words for years, wanted to ask you out, tell you how he felt. But unlike his old brother who seemed to have endless amounts of confidence when it came to girls, Tommy never found the courage to make a move. Instead he begrudgingly tormented himself, watching all the boys of Small Heath try their luck with you.

" You're doing it again, stop it!" you said squinting your eyes as you looked up to see him still staring down at you. " You're making me nervous"

" What else am I supposed to look at, you're right in front of me " he said with a small sigh. Just ask her you idiot, he thought to himself as he peered at you in the corner of his eye.

" Y/N erm, I was wondering..." he started to say when you grabbed his hand your eyes widening in a panic.

" Shh. Did you hear that?" You said as you looked behind him to the door.

" Its just a window blowing open" he replied as he glanced down at your hand still holding onto his. Throwing his head back Tommy shook his head, frustrated that the moment he had finally found the courage to ask you out you had cut him off. Bringing his eyes back down to look at you, Tommy took a deep breath. If he couldn't say how he felt he would show it. What was the worse that could happen?

" Fuck it" he said as he cupped your cheeks crashing his lips onto yours. For a brief moment you resisted taken by surprise at Tommy's unexpected move until your whole body finally relaxed and you quickly melted into the kiss. There was no technique to it, wet, messy, all tongues and teeth. But as your lips interlocked you felt a flutter of butterflies fill your stomach, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as Tommy enthusiastically pushed you back the few centimeters remaining between you and the wall behind you.

" Owh" you said as your head hit the wall, the thump loud enough for anyone to hear.

" Shit, sorry" Tommy said as a small giggle escaped your mouth at his overly keen display. Pressing your lips back onto his the kiss was smoother, a small whimper leaving your throat as his tongue brushed over yours. Moaning, Tommy's hand dropped from your waist to your leg as his fingers travelled under you skirt grazing over your suspenders. Things were getting heated, very heated.

" Wait, Tommy I've, i'm a.."

" Fuck sorry, I wasn't trying to" Tommy awkwardly said cutting you and himself off. " Wait, you're a Virgin?" he asked with a small smile etched on the corner of his lips his brows slightly raised.

" Why do you look so surprised? " you answered back, your whole face scrunched up in annoyance.

" No nothing. It's just I didn't think you was...you know" he replied unable to formulate his own words.

" Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" you scoffed with a laugh as Tommy's cheeks suddenly went a crimson shade of red, his hands dropping from your waist.

" Jesus...thanks Y/N" Tommy said looking away with a huff unable to physically move away from the embarrassment surrounding him.

" Slightly exaggerated don't you think? " you giggled as Tommy looked back at you, his hands now on his hips.

" You done?" he huffed as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the laugh that was seconds away from escaping. As Tommy pressed his lips back onto yours the small giggle unable to contain itself finally broke free.

" Stop it, I'm trying to concentrate" he said smiling into your lips as he continued to kiss you, his hands roaming over the curves of your body when the door suddenly flew open.

" Oi oi, what's going on in here then? " Arthur said grinning at you both as you let go of eachother. Rolling your eyes you walked out the small room pushing past him the box of whisky and leg of ham he was holding. "Get to second base baby brother?" Arthur sniggered as Tommy thumped him in the arm.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy pouted leaving the room and his older brother in fits of laughter. Both barely out the door, your eyes widened as the owner and his dog turned the corner.

" You little bastards. I've seen your faces. I know who you are! You're those trouble making Shelby boys. And look, you've brought your little whore with you, that dead drunk idiot's daughter. How did you petty little thieves make it out of Small Heath, steal a car?"

" Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Arthur warned the owner pointing his finger at him as Tommy protectively pushed you behind him. Now in a stand-off between the owner and his drooling dog growling at you, you watched as he unclasped the large metal chain from the dogs collar.

" Go on boy get 'em!" he commanded when Tommy grabbed the leg of ham out the crate in Arthur's arms, launching it in the dog's direction.

" My bloody ham!" Arthur said, furious his dinner had been tossed to the the very dog he felt had betrayed him.

" Run!" Tommy shouted as you all turned around.

" I'm calling the police!"

" Thanks for the whisky old man" Arthur laughed running down the stairs as you and Tommy followed behind him, mentally noting never to follow one of Arthur's ideas again.

Several hours had passed and you Tommy, Arthur and a girl he had picked up along the way were sitting around a campfire in the local woods where Arthur and Tommy's families two vardos were, sipping on the finest whisky you had ever tasted. You couldn't remember the amount of times they had brought you out here to camp, taking you away for a brief moment from the smoke filled air, from the memories of your father that hung over you thicker than any fogged filled skies, a grief you wouldn't have made it through without them. As you sat looking at the flames of the fire mesmerised by their orange glow Tommy glanced over to you, watching the flickering lights from the campfire cast a golden hue on your skin, desperate to be alone with you again, the kiss you shared earlier repeatedly playing out in his head.

" Come on love, let's leave them to it" Arthur said standing up taking his dates hand after noticing his brother staring at you. " See you in the morning" Arthur winked back to Tommy opening the small caravan door, squeezing the girls bum as they both entered. " If the caravan be rocking, don't come a knocking!" Arthur laughed as he shut the door leaving you alone with Tommy.

" Dickhead" Tommy mumbled under his breath as you looked away, biting your bottom lip at how awkward Arthur had suddenly made everything. "It's getting late" you said standing up as you brushed the mud and twigs off your skirt looking back at the other vardo.

" I'll sleep out here" Tommy said as he sat up throwing another log onto the fire.

" You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death. Come on, it's not like we've never slept in the same bed" you said only just realising how different this time would be.

" Right, yeh...ok" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stood up.

As you settled into the small bed you watched as Tommy took of his hat and coat, your heart rapidly beating as nerves started to mount in your stomach. Climbing under the covers Tommy turned to face you, his fingers coming up to brush the strands of hair away from your face. Leaning into eachother, both of you turned your head in the same direction, awkwardly banging your foreheads together, resulting in a fit of laughs leaving your lips as Tommy shook his head at you. It was quite possible you were the giggliest girl he had ever met. Relaxing you recomposed yourself as Tommy pressed his lips to yours in a tender embrace. As his hand moved to your lower back, pressing your body closer to his your breath hitched in you throat, nerves now consuming every movement you made. Pulling away Tommy rubbed his thumb over your hip, in an effort to help you relax.

" Let's just lay here together, yeh?" he said taking the pressure away from you, not wanting to rush you into anything you wasn't ready for you as you nodded your head, thankful for his understanding nature. Rolling onto his back Tommy brought you closer into his side as he stroked up and down your arm, happy to finally have you in his arms.

" I nearly forgot" you said as you sat up leaning across him to pick up your coat.

" Happy Birthday" you said pulling out a small gift wrapped in cloth.

" My birthdays not until tomorrow " he chuckled as he sat up.

" It will be in ten minutes" you said as you looked down at your watch, quickly returning your eyes to him pulling out a gold pocket watch from within the delicate fabric.

" Jesus Y/N...you got this for me, how? " he said with a huge grin on his face as he looked to you.

" All those hours pressing clothes. Took me almost a year to be able to afford it"

"Come here" he said bringing you into a hug as you settled back down into the bed together." Thank you" he added as he pressed a kiss to your forehead feeling happier than any win he had ever won at the races.

With his arm securely wrapped around you Tommy couldn't stop the smile on his face as he looked down at the watch in his hand, it was nicest thing he owned and the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. Glancing at your wristwatch, Tommy turned the dials to the right time, when you took it from him turning it back a further five minutes.

" It's five minutes too late" he said watching you press the knob down.

" That way I'll always be on time for you" you giggled handing it back as Tommy chuckled shaking his head.

" Yeh just means I won't be on time for anything" he smiled closing the watch, keeping it tightly clasped in his hand as you nuzzled your head into his chest.

" Tommy?"

" Mm-hm?" he said as his eyes were about to close.

" What do you think we'll be doing this time ten years from now"

" The same thing" he smiled as his thumb rubbed over the curve of your shoulder. "Only naked" he said as he opened one eye looking to you.

" Tommy!" You said, giving him a small punch to the arm. " I'm serious, what do you think we'll be doing?"

" The same thing Y/N" he said with certainty as he tuned his head to face you. " You'll be in my arms every night from now on, that's a promise" he said as he looked lovingly back at you before giving you one last peck to the lips as you both closed your eyes, dreaming of the future and everything coming your way. Even though you were both young with your whole lives ahead of you one thing was for certain, in that moment you had no doubts that you wouldn't spend the rest of your lives together and every night in each others arms.

Ten years later...

Laughs and chatter of people enjoying eachothers company hummed around you as you sat quietly in the corner of the Garrison, the drink in your hand untouched as the night you and Tommy spent together this time ten years ago asleep in each others arms cruelly played out in your head. As a tear fell from your eye you looked up across the room to see the new barmaid sat tightly against Tommy's body, his arm resting around her shoulders. Tonight it wouldn't be you wrapped in his arms, tonight you would sleep alone as regret over decisions you had made weighed down your already broken heart. Standing up from your seat Tommy's eyes quickly darted to you, watching you pull your coat around you as you brushed the tears from your face, leaving the Garrison in a hurry unable to withstand anymore.

Clutching your coat around you from the cold night air you pushed the last tears from your cheeks as the pain in your heart dug further into your chest.

" Y/N" you heard your name being called by the very man you didn't want to see you like this.

"Yes Tommy" you said turning around as he waited at the Garrison door.

" I need you to go finish those papers at the betting shop for tomorrow" he said lighting a cigarette as he stepped a little closer.

" It's nearly midnight..." you replied as you watched him pull out his pocket watch to check the time. Quickly closing it Tommy clutched it tightly in his hand as he looked back at you. For a brief moment that's all he did as if the memories of that night had suddenly come flooding back to him. Maybe they had never left, and Tommy's heart was aching as much of yours, either way you could never tell, for just as quickly as his face softened for those brief few moments his demeanor abruptly changed, a scowl now spread across his face.

" The deadlines tomorrow " he said sharply looking to you as you shivered in the cold, your eyes red from crying.

" Ok Tommy" you said like you always did, at his beck and call night and day, desperately hanging onto the love you still felt for him. Without saying another word you turned on your heel heading for Watery Lane.

" You not going to wish me a happy birthday then?" Tommy called out as he watched you walk away.

" Happy birthday Tommy" you replied, the words catching in your throat, tears streaming down your face as you walked briskly off into the night. So much had changed over the years, so many promises broken, hearts broken along with them. But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #hopelessly devoted

913 notes · View notes

indulgentdaydream · 5 months

Note

Hello!

Can you do Jason todd x reader where he's crushing on the newest vigilante in Gotham?

Thank you

New in Town

Jason Todd x Reader || Fluff || Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: profanity (swearing), death mention, violence, low-key stalking but not really??

Wrote half of the fic. Was nearly finished. It didn’t save. 😩 the ONE time i decide to write outside of the notes app

I love the idea of Jason crushing on someone like a teenage boy because he never actually GOT that chance as a teenager so he never learned how to cope with those kind of feelings, so I sprinkled that in here.

I feel like this is poorly written forgive me 🙏

He hadn’t heard of you until six months ago. He hadn’t cared then, either. You kept to the other side of the city, you didn’t pose a threat, and he was already preoccupied with his own things to deal with. You weren’t that important to him.

Jason was walking across rooftops. Two weeks, roughly, since he had caught wind of the new name, aligned with the rest of the bats.

It was a night where the rain had let up for once. It wasn’t perfect, though. Never was. The clouds still too thick to see the bright moon and stars.

He was looking for an address, one that seemingly didn’t exist. He landed on another rooftop of a short apartment building. Jason could hear the sounds of two people fighting down in the alley below him.

He walked to the edge, looked down, and there you were. Dressed up in your vigilante gear, fighting some thug.

He crouched, watching. This was much more entertaining then his fake address.

The thug was much bigger than you, but you handled yourself well. The thug lurched forward. You planted a hard, flat, kick to his stomach. He stumbled back. You got in a good punch, a right hook. The thug went with it. He bashed his back off the corner of a dumpster before crumbling to the ground.

Jason nodded once in approval. You didn’t play.

You both saw it at the same time. The clouds parted for a moment behind Jason, the light of the moon shining down over Gotham for just a moment.

The shadow of the top of the apartment split the alleyway below in half, with Jason’s crouched form’s shadow landing right in front of the thug.

He stood up and stepped back from the edge just as you started to look up. He was out of sight before you could see him. At most, you saw the glint of his helmet, but nothing else.

He walked away. He didn’t want to deal with this.

Three weeks later, Jason’s standing on a catwalk in one of Gotham’s many abandoned warehouses. He’s high enough up, hidden within a shadow, that they couldn’t see him even if they had the brains to check up instead of around.

He’s holding his AR-15, pointed down below at the drug dealers he’s been following all week. His aim is steady, mind going over the motions of the possibilities.

“Psst.”

Jason whipped his head up. He aimed the rifle in front of him. There, on the other catwalk, ten feet away from him, was you.

You were leaning on the railing, smiling. Jason didn’t like how his first thought was the realization that this was the closest he had ever been to you.

“Want some help?” You whispered loudly, your smile pulling into a grin.

He looked back down, fixing his aim, “No.”

You leaned further over the railing, exposing nearly half your body to the drug dealers below if they so happened to look up. You whispered your name. Your vigilante name, that is. He didn’t respond.

“Rude,” he heard you mutter. You stayed silent for just a moment as he watched the dealers walk around their table, complaining about their business not showing up. The business that Jason had left dead in an alleyway an hour ago.

Silent treatment wasn’t going to work. You spoke up again, “Why didn’t you say hello? When you saw me in the alley?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.” Except he had wanted to, just not like that. And not like this.

It was your turn to stay silent. Jason looked up without moving. With his helmet, you couldn’t tell if he was, or was watching the men below.

Standing up straight again, your head was turned away a little, obviously listening to somebody babble away in your ear.

He looked back down before you turned your head back, “Welp, should’ve accepted my offer. I gotta go.”

“Buh-bye,” Jason said dryly before you were walking off down the catwalk.

What can he say? He was intrigued after that. He’d watch you fight from hidden corners, never daring to step out. He waited for the right opportunity to talk to you again. He… did it for too long. A couple months too long.

It wasn’t stalking. That’s what he told himself. He hadn’t pushed to discover your identity, hadn’t learned your exact schedule. He just… kept looking for a chance to talk.

Jason hated it. Hated that he couldn’t come up with a way to approach you. Hated how he got tongue tied thinking about it. How his palms got damp. What could he say?

He ran into Dick one night. They sat on the edge of a building and talked. Which turned to bickering for a while, before it came into a “Who had the worst Bruce experience” argument.

He shut up the second you landed on the roof behind them, “I could hear you two from an entire street over.”

Dick clapped his hands together, a smile breaking out at the sight of you. Jason turned to watch. He walked over, happily calling your name. He got to you, pointing at Jason as he slipped an arm around your shoulders, “Tell this guy he’s wrong.”

You frowned, “I don’t even know this guy.”

Jason remembered he had taken off his helmet, left in only his domino mask. You couldn’t see the rest of his clothes from the fact he’s sitting facing away from you.

Speak! Dammit! He chided himself. He picked up his helmet from his side, bringing it around to show you. He watched your eyes widen in recognition.

“Ooooh,” you immediately nodded, “Yeah. You’re wrong.”

Jason found his words with an amused smirk, “You don’t even know what for.”

You shrug and Dick laughs, “That’s the spirit!”

Jason turned back around. He pretended like he was watching the city line, but he was really listening to yours and Dick’s conversation. He kept trying to look for ways in, ways to talk to you.

Now! Nope, Dick said something unrelated, too quickly. Now your conversation went in that direction. Here! Too late. He hesitated.

He stopped listening, pursing his lips in annoyance at his own stupid, boyish inability to talk to the attractive new vigilante.

“Oh… he said he didn’t want to talk to me. Probably annoyed by my presence.”

He tuned back in.

“How rude.”

“That’s what I said!”

Jason looked back over his shoulder. The two of you were standing there, arms crossed, looking at him.

“What?”

Dick seemed to remember something, “Have you two even been formally introduced?”

You grumbled something along the lines of, “Tried that.”

Jason shrugged, “I’ve seen them around,” he met your eyes, “You fight good.”

What kind of fucking compliment is that?

“So do you,” you smiled.

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion. You could see the movement through the domino mask, “You’ve never seen me fight.”

You grinned, pointing at him, “That’s what you think.”

Jason smirked a little. Oh, he liked you, alright.

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ghostboneswrites2 · 1 month

Note

I really resonated with Daryl x abused reader could you maybe do one where the reader doesn’t let their past define them and shows little signs of abuse like they’re super cheery and happy and doesn’t let their past get them down and but maybe reader has a ptsd attack by Daryl after he confronts her about being so happy especially in an apocalypse and they just realize they relate to each other even if they’re personalities are so drastically and Daryl just comforts reader 🫂

The Painted Bunting

Era: Greene Farm

Summary: Daryl is paired with you on the search for Sophia and snaps at you after growing tiresome of your seemingly endless kindness.

Note: No more laptop for now since the cord broke so I hope you’ll all forgive the lack of my usual post formatting :(

Warnings: profanity, mentions of past abuse, grumpy sassy asshole Daryl (the man we originally fell in love with)

Banner credits on this post

Shining hair in the rays of the sun, an infectious laugh, a beaming grin that never seemed to dissipate. A glowing beacon in the dark. That was what you were. And, admittedly, it got under his skin a little, so Daryl tended to avoid you. You weren’t oblivious to it, but you accepted it for what it was. After all, you couldn’t win them all, right?

You had always been that way; soft, gentle, graceful, kind. If you had never let the past change that for you, you certainly wouldn’t let present day events change it, either. Maybe the world had become a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you had to be one too.

Daryl thought that what really gritted his teeth about you was that through everything that had happened, you never changed a single bit. Not like the others had; not like he had.

After the world fell, after the camp by the quarry was overrun, after the CDC, after Sophia had gone missing, you remained exactly the same. For all of the afore mentioned, Daryl found you to be one of the most vexing people he ever had the displeasure of interacting with, second only to Shane, who could have easily been traded off for his own brother, Merle.

Needless to say, he was peeved at the idea that you were sent on search duty with him after he hurt himself in the ravine. Rick decided a buddy system would be beneficial to all of the search party participants, and you volunteered to tag along, because of course you did.

You weren’t so much looking forward to spending so much one on one time with the man, yourself. You didn’t necessarily have an issue with him, but you were all too aware of the issue he seemed to have with you. Really, you couldn’t relate to him at all. Not everyone around camp was perky and sweet, and rightfully so, but Daryl was such a brooding presence and you just couldn’t put yourself in that frame of mind.

The two of you had set out just after dawn and the hours ticked by as you made friendly conversation and Daryl occasionally offered you a measly grunt in response.

“Do you think we’ll find anyone out here?” You asked. “I mean, aside from Sophia. I know we’ll find her.”

“Pro’ly better if we don’t find nobody else.” Was his first verbal response all day. You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Could be good. I’m sure there are people who could really use some help.”

“Ain’t our problem.” He argued. “Gotta look out for our own. The hell you worried about helpin’ strangers for when we ain’t even found the little girl we’re after?”

“Oh, no.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I was just —“ You cut yourself off, sensing an oncoming ramble. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Mm.” He hummed, pausing his footsteps to take a breath and scan his surroundings. After a moment, he continued forward, and you followed without question . Admittedly, you had no clue how to track, so if anything you were there in case he got hurt.

“So, if someone needed your help… You wouldn’t help?” You asked innocently.

He whipped around to face you, the aggression behind his motion drawing you to a dead stop.

“The hell’s your problem, huh?” He snapped. You blinked. “It’s the end of the goddamn world and you’re askin’ me about some hypothetical moral dilemma? Let me tell you somethin’, girl; ain’t no damn morals in the apocalypse. Ain’t no more law and order! It’s just us,” he paused, sending an arrow through the skull of a walker that had crept up behind you. You flinched and turned to watch its carcass thud on the forest floor. “And them.” He concluded.

“I—I was just making conversation.” You mumbled timidly.

“Why? It’s not a social call! We’re out here to find that little girl. This is why I didn’t need no damn babysitter.” He complained.

“I was just trying to be nice.” You defended.

“Nice?” He scoffed. That simple word seemed to trigger something in him as his eyes lit up with aggravation. “Don’t you get it? It ain’t about bein’ nice anymore. It’s about survival. Got dead people standin’ up and eatin’ people and you’re worried about bein’ nice. Walkin’ around passin’ out water and food and gigglin’ with everybody like we ain’t got a bunch o’ dead bodies stumblin’ around us just waitin’ to take a bite out.”

Maybe it was the way he raised his voice, or the way his eyes shot flaming daggers of fury right through your chest, or the way he threw his arms down and spat words at you like you were some puny, wretched little thing. You didn’t know what it was, but somewhere in the whirlwind of heated exchange, his voice slowly blended together with the other voice — the one that still lived in the back of your mind and ate away at you every day.

The voice that belonged to your own father, the one person who struck true, genuine fear in you. Before you knew it, that old sensation of real terror, the one you’d buried somewhere deep inside you and covered with cement, was breaking free and engulfing you.

You were frozen, like a fawn under the scrutinizing gaze of a predator. The humid air felt like a thick paste as you struggled to gulp it down and catch a breath. At first, Daryl felt inclined to criticize your tears as a show of weakness, fragility, inability to handle a little raise of the voice. He quickly noticed, however, that this was no simple burst of reactionary emotions. No, this was something much deeper and it was rattling you to the core. There was a distant look in your wide eyes, one that he came to recognize, even if it took him a minute.

He shifted on his feet, scanning you, unsure how to intervene.

“Hey.” He eventually called out, but it was clear his voice wasn’t reaching you. This was the final piece of confirmation he needed. You were having an episode, the kind he experienced a few times when he first got out of his father’s abusive home.

He sighed and grabbed your trembling shoulders. You jumped but you didn’t flee or strike out. His touch seemed to dry you out and shrivel you up like a raisin. You shrank into yourself, hyperventilating.

“C’mon.” He said softly, ushering you done to your knees. “Hey. Ya gotta breathe.”

Your breathe only became more shallow and forced. Tears poured down your cheeks as your chest got tighter.

“Just breathe. That’s the only way it’s gonna stop.” He urged. He went to grab your wrists but you panicked, snatching your arms away and falling down on your back.

“No! Get away! You can’t do this anymore! I’m not a little kid!” You cried out.

You were making quite a bit of noise by this point, between the gasps for air and the sobs. He crouched over you and grabbed your shoulders.

“(Y/N), ya ain’t there anymore. Wherever it is, it’s gone. In the past. It’s just you and me right now, and we ain’t there. We’re here.” He soothed, hoping his voice could find you somewhere in the abyss. “Just listen. Ya hear that? It’s a Painted Bunting. Look,” he pointed up into a tree at a bright multicolored bird, similar in its beauty to a parrot, only much smaller. “It’s right up there. Ya see it?”

Your breathing had started to slow down now, those shallow inhales finally reaching a little deeper within. Your eyes lazily followed his finger to the bright little bird singing a flute-like melody.

“Ya see it?” He asked again. You managed to nod once, still holding your arms tightly to your chest as you laid flat on the bed of leaves and twigs. He took a moment to see you, to really take you in, and he realized you were beautiful. Not just in the way a pretty girl with a nice personality was beautiful, but in a way that left so much of who you really were unsaid.

“Just watch it.” He whispered, glancing back up at the feathered creature, hoping it would stick around long enough to bring you back down to earth. “They take two years to look that pretty. Did ya know that?” He asked, glancing back down at you. Your eyes were still on the bird, but you shook your head no. “Yeah. Only the males, too.” He added. “Otherwise, they’re just kinda greenish and yellowish.”

Once your chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, you finally looked over at him. Humiliation began to set in. You quickly sat yourself up and brushed the dead foliage away from your clothes and hair.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“‘S okay.” He shrugged, standing himself back up as well. “Happens.”

“Yeah, we’ll, it shouldn’t. Not nowadays.”

“Can’t help it when it does.” He assured you. “I get it.”

“Maybe I should head back.” You suggested.

“We both can. If ya wanna. It’ll be dark soon anyways.”

“I don’t wanna make you lose your trail or.. Ya know.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“Nah. Ain’t no use after dark, anyways. We’d just be stumbling in circles and bumpin’ into each other.” He insisted, contrastingly soft in comparison to before your episode.

“Oh. Right.” You nodded. Just as you got ready to turn back toward the farm, he cleared his throat.

“Ya wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” You turned back to him. He shifted his weight anxiously, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Offering an ear to listen was at least ten yards outside the perimeter of his comfort zone. “About that?” You asked. “That was nothing. Just something stupid that happens sometimes. That’s all.”

While his tone was much kinder and warmer than before, yours was cold, dull, and tired. Those episodes could take a lot out of a person, and he was no stranger to that fact.

“Sometimes it helps.” He said. “Talkin’ about it. Makes it a little less…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted. “Less, uh… Consuming.”

“It never gets less consuming.” You argued.

“It does.” He insisted.

“And how would you know?” You asked, impatience lacing your words.

“I used to get ‘em too.” He admitted. “Been awhile but… I just get it. That’s all.”

You studied him. In all the weeks you’d spent around the man, you’d never seen him so genuine, or really so open. He never seemed to look at you like another person. You were always just another load on his shoulders.

“My dad.” You finally spoke. He nodded.

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry.” You sympathized.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“We should go.” You sighed, turning away again.

This time you didn’t wait for him, you just started walking, until he called out behind you; “‘M sorry.” You stood still, but you didn’t look back. He knew he had your attention, though, and he knew he had to say something else. “I know I did it this time. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at ya like that.”

“It’s okay. Maybe you were right.”

“Nah.” He shook his head, taking slow steps to catch up to you. “I wasn’t. It’s good. Ya didn’t let none of that shit make ya bitter. Keep it that way. Else you’ll end up a grumpy redneck.” He joked. You suppressed the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe the grumpy rednecks of the world got it figured out.” You said, walking again once you felt him catch up.

“Nah. I don’t know shit about shit.” He admitted, eliciting a small laugh from you. You shook your head.

“I don’t think anyone does.” You reasoned.

On the hike back to the Greene farm, you two shared some light banter, some stories of the past, some laughs and extended looks. He grew finder of you that day. The critical glares he’d send you from a distance were replaced with admiration and respectful nods. You’d often catch him looking and flash him a big smile, waving at him before you attention was drawn elsewhere.

You both learned that maybe the two of you were differently colored fruit, but you grew from the same tree, and you weren’t so different after all. And, that sentiment was never lost or forgotten. It carried with you for as long as you two knew each other.

Taglist || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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spiderwcd · 5 months

Text

Stalked | s.g.

pairing: Sam Golbach x influencer ! f ! reader

summary: They knew something was off, but they never imagined it to be this bad.

Warning(s): angst! stalkers, breaking in, fear, profanity, mentions of a weapon

A/N: honestly first time writing angst, so forgive me if it's really bad, ALSO, please read the last note, I need your guys opinion on something.

images from pinterest !

Sam loved y/n, so much so that Sam let her finally move in. Well rather, they made it official. She had practically lived with Sam for a year now, always sleeping over and leaving all her things around his house.

It was great, she loved waking up to Sam every morning and making him breakfast. She adored how he'd show up for some of her streams and talk to her fans. Sam was the love of her life, there's no doubt behind that.

But recently something was off.

It started off with a few overly creepy dm's, saying perverted things to her. She would block them but they seemed to never go away, assuming as they made multiple accounts to send the horrid messages.

But then she felt like she was being watched, going out in public became sketchy for her. She noticed a hooded man in the coffee shop she frequented or around the corner in the supermarket.

Then, it was getting really out of hand. She would receive random packages from fans all the time, opening them on her live stream and laughing at gag gifts. But it was odd to receive gifts on her front porch, when she regularly received gifts via a P.O. Box. She had opened one, regretting it to this day.

In the box were various pictures of her around town, heart shapes surrounding her face. On top was a letter, long story short, she realized it was a stalker.

Sam and y/n tried to figure out a way to put a restraining order, but couldn't due to the fact that they didn't know this said man's identity.

Unfortunately, enough was enough. All she could do was go on another live stream tonight, explaining reasons why she wouldn't be streaming anymore. She propped up the camera, Sam in the back for moral support.

"Are you ready?" She weakly smiled.

Sam nodded, reaching for her hand as she sat back down as many fans joined in.

She tried to put on her bubbly personality, attempting to welcome many of the fans.

"Hey guys," she waved to the camera. "How are you guys?" She asked, placing her other hand on her chin as she looked at the various comments.

Her fans knew her all too well, quickly recognizing that something was wrong.

'oh no, y/n you okay? you look sad :('

'woah, mom and dad look so serious!? Are we in trouble?!'

Y/n smiled at the concern, "yeah, guys you have all been bad," she sternly pointed to the camera. "Right sam? We gotta take away their Xboxes." She turned over to Sam, causing him to chuckle.

"Yeah guys, who shit in the kitty litter? The cat's shit is not that big!" He joked trying to lighten up the mood.

Y/n smiled, squeezing Sam's hand a little stronger as she looked back at the camera.

"Alright guys, Imma wait a little longer for more people to get in just so they don't miss anything." She announced, continuing to read the comments.

'mother is mothering'

'y/n, ask sam when the next video is coming out?!'

'y/n is so pretty guys :)'

She turned to Sam, "they're asking about your next video, babe." She pointed out. "I don't know, I've been put under a contract not to discuss any future videos guys." She put her hands up in defeat.

Sam grinned at her before looking up at the camera, "Well, Colby will kill me for saying anything, but we're working on something to record tomorrow actually." He raised his brows, pursing his lips a bit.

"You heard it here folks, Sam is not retiring." She joked.

As they were goofing off and joking around, the viewer count went up to nearly 50k. She was impressed by the amount, amazed by her followers.

"Wow guys, there's 50 thousand of you here!" She cheered, raising her hands up into the air. "So now that we have a lot of your attention, don't get too distracted by this beautiful face." She pointed towards Sam.

Sam dramatically covered his face, pretending to be flustered. "Oh, stop it guys!" He responded with a high pitched voice.

Y/n playfully smacked his thigh as she giggled, "Well, so this is sorta sad news guys," she began, trying not to look at the comments. "But this will be my last stream for a little bit, just there's been stuff that came up and it's no longer safe for me to stream. I would go more in depth but again, for our safety I can't really say why."

She held back tears as she glanced over to her comments, fans practically panicking.

'what?! noooo :('

'omg what happened?!'

'nauuur! I look forward to your streams :,('

Y/n gulped, holding back tears as she read the comments. "Yeah guys, it's only temporary," she sighed, Sam holding her hand as he laced his fingers with hers. "But it's just to ensure safety for me and my loved ones, it's only until this problem goes away guys. I just gotta say, I love you guys, you guys give me purpose and I'm so thankful for that, so I hope you guys understand."

She weakly smiled, reading the many comments of support and touched by their kindness.

"Well with that guys, I'm just gonna end it here," she sighed, leaning towards her computer. "See you guys, hopefully soon." She blew a kiss into the camera before cutting the stream off.

She let out a sigh as she sat back down in her chair, a creak emitting from it. Y/n looked over to Sam, who offered her a smile as he rubbed his free hand on top of hers.

"You okay?" he asked her, furrowing his brows as worry coated his voice.

She nodded weakly, "I will be," she replied. "I just hate to stop streaming, I really want this stupid stalker to like chill the fuck out." She groaned as she rubbed her face.

"I'm sure it won't be long," Sam tried to comfort her. "I mean he hasn't been around for a while." Sam shrugged.

Y/n couldn't help but stare off into the ceiling, taking Sam's words sink in, "That's true," she mumbled. "I've had stalkers before, but they were never this bad." She emphasized.

Sam understood her frustration, he knew streaming was everything to her. She worked hard to please her fans, streaming every other night practically. He loved that about her, how caring she was and worked for her fans even when days weren't as good to her.

"Well let's get some sleep, okay?" Sam patted her thigh, standing up from his seat.

Y/n groaned, throwing her head back, "This feels so weird," She grumbled, mimicking Sam's movements and walking towards their bedroom. "Are you still going to that haunted hospital or whatever?" She asked him, removing her sweatpants and sweatshirt.

"Yeah, but I can always stay here with you if you want," Sam answered, watching her movements. "I can always reschedule it." He offered.

Y/n threw on one of Sam's t-shirts, jumping into bed next to him, "No, no, I'll be okay," She declined, stabilizing her head onto her hand. "I don't want you to disappoint your fans, plus the cameras you installed really give me a lot more comfort." She smiled, her heart warmed by his gesture.

"Are you sure? I-I just don't know how I feel about leaving you here all alone." Sam sighed, pulling her close to his chest.

"Yes, I'm sure sam." She laughed a bit, laying her head onto his chest. She listened to his heart beat against her ear, she breathed in deeply before looking up at sam. "I love you, you know that?" She whispered to him.

Sam smiled down at her, placing his finger under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss. "I love you more." He whispered back, pecking her on her forehead.

The next day, she watched as Sam packed various equipment into his bags. But he wouldn't stop pestering her about his offer, her refusing it every time.

"Okay, baby I will call you when I land, i'll check the cameras often, oh, and update me every like hour," Sam commanded, his suitcase in hand as his backpack strapped to his back. "I don't care if you think it's annoying, I just need to make sure you're okay."

Y/n laughed at his demands, kissing him on the cheek, "I promise, but youre gonna have to worry about Colby in about two seconds cause it looks like he's gonna drag you away." She joked, pointing at Colby in the car.

Sam sighed, "He’ll be fine," He rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay, I love you like a million, please be careful, okay? Lock all the doors and keep the windows locked, I'll call Celina or someone to come and keep you company." He suggested, landing a quick peck on her lips.

"Alright, love you too," She chuckled, embracing him into a long hug. "Okay, okay, now you have a safe trip okay? And make sure Colby brings you back in one piece." She joked.

She watched as Sam ran towards the car, looking back every few steps as he blew her kisses. She noticed Colby rolling his eyes, impatient as is.

Y/n sighed as she locked the door, making her way to the living room. She dropped down onto the couch as she exhaled a breath. She looked down on her phone, deciding to check up on her socials.

She was surprised by the sheer amount of support she received, fans encouraging her. She smiled at the many comments, her smile soon fading away as she looked at the random drama article of hers.

Streamer Y/N L/N, goes on break cause of STALKER?!

She rolled her eyes, of course they're trying to profit on her vulnerability. She threw her phone down onto the pillows, standing up onto her feet as she made her way towards the kitchen. She figured she could distract herself and make something to eat. Usually when she was bored she would stream, but for obvious reasons she couldn't cure her boredom at that moment.

After she had made some dinner, she turned on one of her favorite shows. She decided a few episodes wouldn't hurt to catch up on, resting her head onto a few pillows as stared at the screen.

A season and a half in, she heard her phone ding. She picked it up, letting the phone turn on and the message displayed on her screen.

sam:

just landed! How are things over there?

Y/n started typing out her answer, trying not to make it sound depressing as it felt.

y/n:

great, i'm just watching some of my shows right now :)

It didn't take long for the phone to ding again, Sam's response delivered onto her phone screen yet again.

sam:

sounds good

Do you want some company? I could send Jake or even Celina over

y/n:

I think i'll be okay for now

I prolly will be up for a while anyway so i'll let you know

sam:

okay, be safe babe

I love you 300 million tons baby!!!

Y/n smiled at the text, seeming to miss her boyfriend even more now.

y/n:

well I love you 300.01 million tons!

She shut off her phone, tossing it back to where it last was. She blankly stared into the TV screen as she tried to focus on the show. Her eyes began to grow heavy, slowly beginning to grow more tired.

It didn't take long before she found herself sleeping on the couch, the random show adding as a background noise.

She awoke from her sleep, hearing her phone buzzing next to her. She fluttered her eyes, looking outside at the now dark night that had overtaken the evening sun as she slept.

She groaned as she picked up her phone, Sam's name displaying on her screen with his photo on it. She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep, forgetting to update Sam. Y/n slid the answer button, bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hey, sorry I fell asl-." But before she could answer, Sam cut her off with panic in his voice.

"Babe, Babe?! Are you okay?" Sam frantically asked. "Where are you right now?" He added, panic rising in his voice.

Y/n furrowed her brows, confused on why he had begun panicking over not updating him on her whereabouts.

"I'm just home, in the living room right now." She sighed, rubbing her eyes out of her tired state.

"Okay, okay, please tell me you locked all the doors and windows," Sam sternly replied.

Y/n stood up, noticing the TV had still been blaring. "Yeah, I locked the front door when you left and the backdoor had been locked, what's going on sam, you're really freaking me out." She grumbled.

"Y/n, please listen to me very carefully," Sam began, shaking in his voice. She heard him talk to another person in the back, something about a ride to the airport. "Go to our bathroom, and lock the door, please baby." He panted, hearing a car door shut in the background as he began to run.

Y/n just was more confused, but complied with his instructions. She began walking towards their bedroom, but froze when she heard a sound from downstairs. The sound of glass shattering echoed from the home.

She sprinted towards the bedroom, locking the door and entering the bathroom connected to it. She swiftly locked the bathroom door, backing away as she tried to cover her heavy breathing.

She forgot she was on a call with Sam, faintly hearing his loud shouts for her. She brought the phone back to her ear, barely stabilized in her shaking hand.

"Y/n!? y/n!? What happened?! Y/n, please answer me!" Sam shouted, calling out for her. "Was that glass breaking?!" He called out.

"Y-Yeah, I just heard someone fucking break a window or something downstairs," Y/n whispered into the phone. "Sam, I-I'm scared." Her voice cracked as tears began to spill onto her cheeks.

Sam cursed a bit in the background, "Fuck, it’s gonna be okay baby, I promise." His voice shook, distressed as he felt hopeless in this situation. "Colby called the police so they should be over there any moment, just stay there and don't make a sound, okay?" He informed her.

Before y/n could respond, she heard faint heavy footsteps make their way up towards the stairs. It seemed as if he had stopped at the end of the staircase, in front of the living room.

"Sam, I-I think he's upstairs," Y/n sobbed softly. "I’m so fucking scared, Sam." She whimpered out.

Sam cursed yet again on the other side, clearly frustrated and worried. "It's gonna be okay, Colby's still on the line with the cops, they said 5 more minutes, okay? Just don't say anything, it's g-gonna be okay." She heard Sam's frustrated sniffs as his voice cracked.

Slowly, the footsteps became louder. They thudded with each step, slowly making their way towards the locked bedroom. Y/n felt hot tears stream down her hot cheeks, her heart pumping as if she ran a marathon.

But then the footsteps stopped at the door to the bedroom. She listened carefully, her ears perking up to every sound. 5 minutes will feel like eternity. She listened as the door handle started jiggling to their bedroom, with a frustrated man's voice as he kicked the door once, then twice and with a loud crack as it swung and hit the wall.

She let out a scared squeal, Sam still shouting for her on the other side. She didn't dare to move, still intently listening as the man rustled around the room, trying to find something or someone.

She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest, feeling nothing but pure fear as the man began stepping closer to the bathroom door.

Y/n found it odd when the man knocked. She didn't answer, letting yet another tear slip out of her eye. But she found it even more odd that he slipped a piece of paper under the door, seemingly blank.

Y/n prayed that the police would arrive any moment, rescue her from this nightmare. But mostly wanting Sam to be there for her, to protect her.

She shut her eyes, bringing the phone to her ear again. Sam kept calling out for her, freaking out. "Sam, If something happens, I-I love y-you okay?" She sniffed softly as she whispered softly into the phone.

"Y/n, don't say that! You're gonna make it just a little long-" as Sam was about to finish his sentence, the door cracked just like the one in the bedroom.

She jumped, tears spilling as she let out a sob. Just as quickly as he opened the bedroom door, the door ricocheted against the wall. She felt herself shake like a leaf as her back pressed up against the bathtub, watching intently as everything moved very slowly.

The background noise of Sam's voice and everything else drowned as she heard her heart beating, eyes glued to the broken door. The man slowly stepped closer inside the bathroom, turning his head very menacingly.

The masked man creeped into the bathroom, the glimmer of a blade in his hand. She let out a sob as she turned her head away, shutting her eyes shut as she prayed it was a nightmare she woke awake from.

She could practically feel his breath on her face, now kneeling in front of her. His hand at first moved to her face, tracing his fingers on her wet skin but then moving his attention to the phone clutched in her hand. He scoffed as he snatched the phone out of her hand, bringing it to his ear.

"Y/n? Y/n?! answer me, please." Sam begged on the other line.

"She's unavailable at the moment." The man's deep voice rang out in the bathroom.

"Dont you dare fucking touch her," Sam spat through the phone, gripping onto his phone with anger. "I swear to God, I will fucking kill you." He growled.

The man chuckled a bit, amused by his threats, "Well, I don't see you anywhere." He laughed.

Before Sam could give an answer, the man hung up the phone and set it down onto the counter. He turned back ever so slowly to her, staring down at the floor to avoid eye contact with her stalker.

He kneeled back down, looking at her as she cried.

"You're much prettier than I expected," He laughed, running his finger on a strand of her hair. "Don't be scared, only brought this if your little boyfriend would get in the way." He smirked under his mask, tilting the knife.

As y/n froze up, tensing under his touch, she heard the loud sirens pulling closer to her house. The red and blue lights filling up the room, causing the man to jolt up and look at her one last time.

"This isn't over." He mumbled, running out of the bathroom.

With him gone, she let out a sob as it rang throughout her body. She covered her face, trying to calm down and reassure herself it was all over.

Y/n heard the shouts of a police officer, warning the man to get down. She heard frantic footsteps run down the hall, afraid it was the man again.

But instead it was a female officer, her gun drawn out and a flashlight shining onto y/n's face. She lowered her weapon, turning to her shoulder as she spoke through the walkie.

"Are you y/n?" She kneeled down to her level.

Y/n nodded, "Y-Yes." she let out.

The officer reached for her hand, helping her up. Y/n's legs shook as she stumbled forward slightly, apologizing as she straightened herself up.

"It's okay, you have no need to apologize." She reassured, beginning to walk her out of the bathroom.

"T-That paper, he slid it under the door when I was locked in h-here." She pointed with trembling hands.

The officer nodded, kneeling as she lifted the paper. Y/n couldn't help but peek at the paper, curiosity eating at her.

From what it looked like, it was a love note as he declared his love for her. The officer's face retorted into a one with disgust, hiding it quickly from y/n.

"This will be put into evidence, my other officer will take you down to question you," She informed y/n, letting one of the other officers grab her arm and lead her down the hall.

Y/n's eyes wandered to the broken bits of wood that was flown across the room, their bedroom in complete disarray. She noticed that the same knife he had carried was now lodged into the broken door that hung loosely on the hinges, on the door was a picture of her and sam. Sam's face was scribbled on, with a few profanities scratched around.

Y/n felt sick to her stomach, unable to hold back tears as she trembled down the hall. The street was filled with cop cars, neighbors coming out to investigate the commotion. She spaced out, deep into thought as the police officer's informed her about the break in.

Y/n simply nodded, still in shock. Then she noticed a figure run up to her, Sam. She felt tears spilling out again and a wave of relief washed over her as she watched him sprint towards her, hugging her as he panted and sobbed into her hair.

"Thank fucking god," Sam cried, rubbing her hair as she trembled in his arms. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should've never left you alone." He cried, stroking her hair as he comforted her.

She peaked over his shoulder, the flashes of blue and red covered the streets. She watched as the officers handcuffed the now revealed man as his mask had been removed, pushing him into the back of the cop car. Y/n quickly looked away, determined not to be afraid of him any longer. As long as she had Sam, she was safe.

She didn't say anything, soaking his sweatshirt with her tears. He didn't let go of her, talking to the police as they interrogated him to find the story.

"Hey, can we do this another time?" Sam snapped, holding y/n as she rested her head onto his chest. "I would love to answer your questions, but she's been through a lot and I need her to rest." He sighed, stroking her hair softly.

The officer understood, handing him a card. They thanked them for their time, getting into the car as they sped away. Y/n sniffled, gripped onto Sam's arms tightly, as if he would leave again.

"You guys can stay at my place for the meantime," Colby offered. "I know your house is sort of a crime scene right now, and your doors are completely wrecked. I have the space." He added.

Sam nodded, thanking his best friend. Y/n hasn't said anything to Sam, still traumatized from her experience. She sat silent in the car, holding onto Sam's hand tightly as they drove. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her, guilt building up inside him.

When they had finally reached Colby's house, Sam followed y/n around. He was so afraid to leave her side again, y/n was comforted by his presence but she knew he had blamed himself for it.

Y/n laid on the bed, glancing at her phone as she looked at the many articles about her. She frowned at the media article, turning off her phone when she noticed Sam enter the room. Sam jumped into the bed, letting out a deep breath as he stared up for a moment.

"It's not your fault sam," Y/n began, causing Sam to avert his gaze to her. "If anything, I'm glad you weren't there, you didn't see what I saw." She added, looking over to him.

"Y/n-" Sam started, but was ultimately cut off by y/n.

"No Sam, don't blame yourself, I told you to go," her voice cracked, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. "He would've hurt you, o-or killed you." She let out a sob.

Sam didn't say anything, pulling her into his chest as she let out tears. He whispered to her that everything's gonna be okay, kissing her head as he petted her hair.

"T-There wasn't much you could do, Sam," She whispered, sniffing. "He came there to hurt you, you did the right thing to call the cops." She commented, looking up at her boyfriend.

Sam half smiled down at her, "I know, just I wish I was there to protect you, I'm sorry." He mumbled, sniffing back tears.

She smiled, placing her palm onto his face. "It's okay Sam, I'm okay," She reassured. "I have you around me to protect me now." She shushed softly.

Sam nodded, reaching for her hand off his face. "It's all over," He sighed. "That's all that matters, you're safe."

Sam wrapped his arms around her, her head pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart beat gently against her ear. It didn't take long for her to finally rest, his scent and gentle heartbeat to soothe her to sleep.

"I'm never leaving you ever again." Sam whispered to her, kissing her head.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

hey guys, thanks for reading!

so now for my question, I want to know if you guys would like smut from me. I have a few works saved, but I'm so nervous that you guys wouldn't like it so please please PLEASE let me know if its something you'd like :)

thanks for your attention!

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