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miraclewoozi · 3 months

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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome. or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it.

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader. content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song.

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong.

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.”

He was right.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all.

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say.

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position.

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air.

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done.

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal.

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present.

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort.

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you.

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember.

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter.

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again.

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary.

The urge to just… lean in to you.

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees.

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again.

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly.

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop.

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday.

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare.

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once.

He swears.

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure.

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting.

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway.

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t.

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances.

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise.

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that.

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come.

Eight seconds later… still nothing.

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light.

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug.

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again.

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?”

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before.

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip.

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter.

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh.

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair.

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop.

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders.

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help.

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place.

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head.

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in.

I love them. Thank you, you said.

It’s perfect.

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double.

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead.

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue.

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose.

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late.

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to.

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are.

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob.

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum.

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him.

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen.

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door.

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important.

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair.

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath.

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright.

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened.

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head.

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can��t stop.

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together.

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said.

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt. And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before.

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder.

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it.

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush.

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head.

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth.

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you.

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too.

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together.

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try.

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could.

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down.

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better.

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same.

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved.

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person.

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say.

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here.

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no.

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline.

Not enough, but some.

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin.

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky.

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough.

Happy New Year.

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes.

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you.

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow…

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there.

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you.

You could do it, his brain tells him.

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter?

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside.

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said.

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in.

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule.

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all.

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday.

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you.

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change.

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant.

The pouting continued.

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table.

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right?

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling.

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together.

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features.

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road.

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess,

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks.

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer.

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks.

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick.

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone.

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own.

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block.

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths.

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

One.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too.

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again.

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon chwe fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #hansol x reader #hansol fluff #kpop fluff #j writes.#*#so nervous ab posting this. anyway. i wrote this for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee and my deluded ass is gonna go jump in a hole now GOODBYE <3 #vernon fanfic

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azrielwingspan · 2 months

Text

SHATTERED (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : You finally scraped up enough courage to tell Azriel how you felt. Unfortunately, not everything is meant to be.

Warnings : ANGSTTTTT, ANGSTTT.

Joy rushed through you as you took a moment to pause and look around. Your closest friends and family were gathered in your house taking a break from all the chaos plaguing your world.

Laughter poured out uninhibited, memories were shared and a cocoon of comfort and love was created. This was all you had ever wanted. This was everything you fought for. This was everything you had sacrificed the innocent part of yourself for.

Sighing in contentment, you let a memory from a couple of years back wash over you.

"I-I don't want you to go." you sobbed holding onto Azriel's hand. "P-Please Az. What if you---" you couldn't finish the sentence, just the thought of it sending more tears running down your sweaty and blood stained face.

"Y/N, I have to help them. I can't stand by and watch the others get slaughtered. I can't live with that regret Y/N, it's a slow death. At least this way, death might find me faster." Azriel pulled you to him, holding the back of your head close to his chest as you sobbed harder.

You couldn't be selfish. You knew your chance of winning would increase drastically if Azriel went out there. Even if it was at the cost of his own life. Yet, you couldn't help but regret all the moments you didn't have because you couldn't confess to him your true feelings.

You had been close friends for so long, you couldn't recall your life before him. The days felt brighter and happier, the nights were filled with drinks and laughter. He knew everything about you.

Almost everything.

You didn't know exactly when your feelings blossomed into something more but it was all you could think about most days. The colour of his eyes, the way he laughed with his head thrown back, the warm hugs he gave when he greeted you , the comforting touches on your arm when you were anxious about something.

Soon enough, you had started to notice the more...physical aspects. The way his tanned skin glistened with sweat after a training session, the curl of his biceps as he lifted his sword, the way his powerful back muscles stretched and defined the lines of his back and his tattoos. For the love of the Cauldron, his tattoos. Once, after a particularly intense training session, he'd taken off his shirt to cool off. A bead of sweat had trailed down his shoulders over the lines of his tattoos. You had wondered what it would feel like to chase it with your tongue and lick it off. A cold soak was how you had spent the rest of your afternoon.

You'd been so conflicted with your own emotions, you didn't have the nerve to tell him how you'd felt.

But now ? When this might be the last moment the both of you would ever share together ?

No. No. You couldn't do that to him. He needed to be focused out there. You wouldn't do that to him. Instead, you drew away from his chest and placed your hand on the back of his neck pulling his forehead to yours.

"You come back to me. Okay? You come back to me and I will tell you something I've never had the courage to tell you before okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and yet he nodded in agreement, his eyes hardening with resolve. Good. Placing a chaste kiss on your forehead in farewell , he left you alone in the dark confines of the room.

"Where did you go ?" a voice broke you out of your memory, bringing you back to reality. The stark contrast between the both made a rush of gratefulness encompass you.

"Was thinking about something." you said, shooting a smile at Cassian. His eyes darted across your face, understanding dawning upon him. "It's real." he said softly, gently squeezing your hand. "The war is over. We're all here and alive."

Emotions welled up inside you filling you to the brim and lining your eyes with tears. Sniffling lightly, you turned your head to discreetly wipe away a tear that had escaped.

Cassian's arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer to him. "Bask in the moment, Y/N. Everyone here loves you, let it heal you."

The both of you made your way to the seating area where everyone was sprawled. Your eyes met Azriel's, who was already looking at you with a slightly concerned look on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile gesturing to him that everything was alright. Satisfied with your answer, he continued his conversation with Feyre.

You needed to tell him tonight. It didn't matter if he reciprocated it or not. You needed to get it off of your chest so you could move on with your life. Your mind pulled you back into another memory reminding you of what had happened the last time you tried telling him.

It was over. They were alive. He was alive. You waited at the entrance to the healers tent where he was being treated with your hands trembling and heart pounding. You had to see him with your own eyes. Drink your fill. You thanked the Cauldron and the Mother and every other entity that the people of Prythian believed in for keeping him alive.

The healer stepped out of the tent and got startled when she almost ran into you. "Sorry." you said sheepishly, trying to peer around her into the area within. Following your line of sight, the healer let a small smile come onto her face. "He's fine. He'll be out in a moment."

Bowing your head in thanks, feet tapping to expel the nervous energy, you continued your vigil for a few more minutes.

Your felt him before you saw him. His scent enveloped you in a warm embrace dispelling your nervous energy and replacing it with relief. A grin broke out on your face, hands reaching out to him to tug him into an embrace.

You buried your face in his neck, making sure not to put pressure on his wounds.

"It's over Y/N. It's all over." Azriel's voice cracked as he held you close.

Tell him. Your mind screamed at you trying to overcome the barriers you had kept up. Pulling back , you stared up at his face your mouth opening and closing as you tried to gather your thoughts and form a coherent sentence.

Steeling your resolve, you pushed yourself over the line you'd drawn.

"Az...I---"

You paused as you watched his eyes widen at something behind you. Relief and something else..something you couldn't decipher but spoke volumes morphed his face.

"Mor..." he breathed out before letting go of you, the loss of touch feeling like a punch to the gut.

He rushed towards Mor who had been standing behind you at a distance nursing her own wounds. The cold air slammed into you at the loss of his body heat as if reminding you of your place in his life. Temporary.

You felt horrible. Mor had been injured as well and instead of helping her out, here you were feeling pitiful as you watched Azriel walk away. You couldn't move. You were frozen to the spot, a few tendrils of your hair whipping around you as the sting of the cold reddened your cheeks and cracked your lips.

You watched unblinking as he made his way to Mor , cradled her face in his hands and crushed her into a hug. You watched unblinking as his posture turned from tensed to relaxed the moment he hugged her. You watched unblinking as he shuffled away with her deeper into the camp.

Leaving you behind.

"You're doing that thing again." a voice broke you out of the memory yet again. This time it was Azriel. He'd switched places with Cassian, settling down on the floor next to you.

"Sorry. Long day." you said scooting closer to him as he draped an arm around you casually. You clinked your glasses and took a sip of your drinks settling into comfortable silence.

You'd noticed over the past few months that he'd stopped giving Mor longing looks and heated glances. The hope and feelings that you'd buried deep inside had come back to life despite your efforts to ignore them. Maybe you were foolish. But you'd never know unless you finally let it out. It was becoming too heavy for you to carry on your own.

"Az.." you said softly.

"Hmm..?" he leaned closer bringing his ear to your lips. Head buzzing at the proximity, you tried not to stammer as you said "I need to speak to you about something. Can you come to my room later?"

"Yeah sure. Everything okay?" he asked pulling back to look into your eyes.

"Y-Yeah."

"Liar." he murmured, eyes darting over your face. "You're nervous."

You gulped instinctively, his eyes taking note of the small action. He didn't miss anything. Except the one thing that mattered the most. He had somehow never figured out that his best friend is in love with him.

"Let's go now." he said bracing his hands on the floor to stand up.

"No...but..." you looked up at him dumbfounded.

"Everyone is going to head to bed soon. They're just waiting for someone to make the first move." he grinned holding out his hand for you to take.

Letting the warmth of his hand ground you, you stood up and dusted off your pants. You didn't notice the set of eyes that trailed you both as you left the room.

You went through all the possible scenarios in you head , braving yourself against the whirlwind of emotions that were about to be exposed. Now or never.

"Y/N." You stopped in your tracks noticing that Azriel wasn't beside you. Turning around, you saw him observing a flower pot that you had purchased from the market recently.

"Since when did you stop and stare at flowers?" you laughed walking back towards him.

A slight blush rose up on his cheeks making your smile broader.

"I got it at the market. Redecorating the whole place because I wanted it to be more lively. Do you like ?"

"Yes." he whispered as your face started giving way to confusion. He was acting very strange.

"It's just a plant Az. If you like it, have it. I'll just get another one." you watched his face closely.

"No..no I won't take it. I was just admiring it." He straightened up, pulling his eyes away from the plant.

"Ooookay, if you say so." you said brushing away the confusion. Yet, a bad feeling had taken root in your stomach. Nerves, you told yourself brushing that away as well.

"Actually..." he cleared his throat. "Can you give me the name of the seller. Maybe I'll get one for...myself." He wouldn't meet your eyes instead choosing to look right past you. He looked embarrassed, maybe shy even.

The bad feeling pushed its roots deeper, curling itself around you and making its way to the heart. You suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

However, you managed to choke out "Yourself? Or...someone, Az?"

He shuffled his feet , scratching the nape of his neck.

The roots reached your heart, slowly squeezing and fracturing the already delicate thing. You didn't need him to say the name. The sweet beautiful girl who had caught his eye. The female who was everything you weren't. The stark opposite.

"E-Elain?" you rasped, willing yourself to not show any reaction.

A faint smile appeared on his face at hearing her name.

Oh.

You know the moment in time when you realise that something will impact you so detrimentally , you will never be the same again?

This moment defined it.

You almost heard your heart shatter...all over again.

Unfortunately this time, you didn't know if you had the energy to pick up the pieces and put them back together.

You felt hot and cold at the same time, frozen in time but feeling the burn in your eyes and heart. You'd gone still, oh so still wondering and horrified about how you would deal with this.

You'll never be his first choice. Your mind whispered making your heart clench painfully.

"Y/N?" Azriel stepped forward , concern etched into his face.

You instinctively stepped back, hoping that physical distance could repair something ..... anything within you.

Hurt flashed across his features as he noted the movement. You were exhausted . You were so tired of hiding your emotions behind a shield.

So you let him see.

You let him see the pain, the love, the anger, the regret and the fear behind your eyes.

You let him see the tears that trailed down your face and the tremble of your hands.

You let him see what you could've been and what would never be anymore.

Once the understanding dawned upon him, you turned around and walked away leaving behind the fragments of your heart at his feet.

A/N: That was DRAMATIC SHEEESH.

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twstgarden · 9 months

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❀ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 ❞

━ general! lilia vanrouge x human! gn! reader ━ living as a human in a fae-dominated country during the war probably isn't your best idea, but you love the land of briar so much as you were born and raised in that nation. who knew that your little activity of picking berries in the forest would make you meet the famed fae general? will he think you're a spy and deem you as a threat or will he realize you're just an innocent human living in the forest? (f/n means first name)

requested by: anonymous request type: oneshot requester's message: Can I request a General Lilia and Human Reader one-shot? Something fluffy (wasn't sure if you were up to date with the game so didn't want to get too specific) florist's note: omg a general lilia request. don't worry, i'm up to date w the jp version of the game. thank you for the request, little one.

this work contains spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

“what are you doing out here, human?”

you flinched in surprise as a voice startled you from behind. you stood up and turned around with your basket on your arm, looking at the person who disturbed your little time. you were about to respond until you noticed the semi-familiar mask and the long dark hair with red highlights peeking out of this person’s hood.

it was the famed fae general.

“i was… just picking berries, sir.”

you responded as soon as you regained your thoughts. you continued to hold your basket as your eyes trailed all over his figure, taking in the details of his clothing and the mask covering his face. the eye holes glowed red, giving you the impression that it could be his eye colour.

he was silent for a while as you responded, making you stay silent before looking down at your half-filled basket, tilting it a little to show him the contents.

“here… if you don’t believe me…”

the general looked at the basket for a quick second then looked back at you, speaking in a stern tone as he was still a little suspicious of you, “why pick berries all the way to this forest? you might be one of those pesky silver owl spies for all i know.”

silver owl? ah, that must be the human knights wearing iron armour and stealing the resources of the land of briar.

what a disappointment… your own kind seemed to have never learned not to steal other’s resources.

“ah… no… i’m not a spy nor am i a part of the silver owls… i’m just a human living in the forest and this spot is the closest area for berry picking to my cottage,” you tried to explain yourself to the general as the red glow in the mask’s eyeholes stared back at you with extreme intensity.

when he did not respond for a while, you bowed a little to show respect and asked, “am i free to go, general?”

he let out a short hum and held onto his weapon as he replied, “go. avoid the forest as much as possible, human. it’s not safe here. evacuate while you can.” you gave him a small smile and bowed your head again, “thank you, general, but i’ll be fine in this forest. have a great evening, sir.”

you held onto your basket and smiled for a quick second before turning around and walking away from the general, heading back to your lovely little cottage settled just a few meters away from the berry-picking spot.

so that was the fae general. you finally had the chance to meet him face-to-face. his aura made him quite intimidating, especially when he holds that magical lithic. still, you didn’t want that to scare you. you knew you did nothing wrong, so there was no reason to fear him coming after you.

that aside, the berries you picked were to your expectations, and you grabbed enough to bake your pie for dinner. with that in mind, you got to work, prepping the ingredients and baking your pie. the scent of the pie flooded your kitchen and the surrounding area of your cottage.

lucky for you, your little neighbourhood was safe and rarely do you ever find any threatening creatures, just a bunch of adorable woodland creatures. by the time your pie was finished baking, you had dinner by yourself on a picnic bench right outside your cottage, enjoying the greenery despite the darkness of the forest.

it was going well until you felt another presence with you sitting right in front of you on the picnic bench. you glanced at the person and saw a soldier wearing armour with the palace guards’ coat of arms and a mask covering their face looking at you ━ or rather, the pie. it seems they’ve smelt it from wherever they were staying and came over.

the soldier started screeching and you knew it was speaking to you in their language. unfortunately, being human meant it was hard for you to pick up and understand what they were saying, so you had to rely on the soldier’s body language.

noticing how they were eyeing the single slice of pie in your hand, you thought the soldier wanted to have some, making you extend your hand a little as you spoke, “you want a pie? wait here.”

you then entered your cottage to grab the remaining slices of pie on your table and went out, placing it on the picnic table right in front of the soldier, “here, have this! you can share it with the rest of the soldiers, there’s plenty left!”

the soldier stared at the pie for a while before looking up at you as if they were checking for any signs of hesitation or whatnot. you merely smiled to show no ill will, but another screech was heard from behind the soldier and your eyes immediately noticed the general standing right there.

the soldier turned around and saluted at the general before screeching back, making it evident to you that they are conversing in their own language. moments later, the soldier disappeared into the dark forest, leaving you with the general as you looked at him, “did you tell him to leave?”

“no, i told him not to take food from others even if they try to offer it.”

you sighed as you sat on the picnic bench, “are you still wary of me?”

“yes.”

oh, how straightforward. very admirable.

“i see… well, i’m not sure what i should say to make you think i’m just a regular forest resident and not a spy, but at least have a pie. there’s plenty left to share. it’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i am not interested in eating human food.”

those were the last things he said before disappearing into the night somewhere in the forest, presumably heading back to where his soldiers were camping out. you blinked your eyes for a moment before shrugging your shoulders and mumbling under your breath, “alright, general…”

days have passed and you’ve occasionally seen the general around the forest as you did your usual activities. he had warned you not to dilly-dally around the forest, while other times, he just ignored you and let you do your thing as well as informing his troops not to harm you.

soon, it escalated to some of the soldiers even paying you a visit just to check on you. you appreciated their gestures, but at the back of your mind, you wondered if the general grew to accept you as a regular citizen of their country. you even got to meet one of the soldiers called baul zigvolt as he paid your cottage a visit once to see if you were well or not. in return, you gave him one of your pastries or meals that he can share with the rest of his comrades. it certainly has become sort of a routine to you at this point.

one day, none of the soldiers paid you a little visit, which made you wonder if they were alright or if they’d moved their camp somewhere else further away from your cottage. you sat on the picnic bench right outside your cottage as you sipped on some beverage you made yourself, watching the surrounding areas for any signs of life, watching the moon and the stars up in the sky shining down on you, listening to the crickets in the distance, and feeling the cold breeze in the air as it made the trees sway a little.

you were about to head back inside until you heard a familiar voice a few steps behind you.

“waiting for something?”

you turned around and smiled as you saw the same old mask as the familiar figure stood there, “well… someone, rather.”

a chuckle was heard from the general before walking towards you and sitting on the picnic bench before you. your smile was still present on your face as you spoke, “i’m doing alright if you’re here to check on me. i appreciate all your efforts, general.”

it was silent for a bit, but you remained smiling at him. a few seconds later, his hands hovered over his mask before grabbing it, revealing his features as his red eyes looked right at you.

your eyes widened slightly. he was really good-looking. you couldn’t find the right words to say, but you remained smiling as he spoke to you, “...that’s a relief, then. you need to know how dangerous this place is. it isn’t safe for you to stay here, human.”

“f/n.”

“what?”

“my name’s f/n…”

the general smiled a little and continued to speak, “i see…” you smiled and proceeded to reply to his words earlier, “i’ll be alright here, general. this is my home… i was raised in this cottage by my parents. now that i’m alone, i still wish to stay here.” he nodded a little as you added, “...thank you, general, for looking out and considering me as the land of briar’s citizen…”

he didn’t say anything for a moment as you handed him a little flower from your garden and a few cookies with a sheepish smile, “i didn’t get to cook or bake much today, so… please accept this..”

the general grabbed the cookies and the flower from you as he placed the flower safely by the belt of his armour while grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. a few moments later, you conversed with the general until he had to head back to his camp.

you stood before him and spoke as you went to see him off, “thank you for visiting, general. be safe out there.” he nodded his head and placed a rose on your hair, already wearing a mask as he did so, “... there… you look beautiful… and you’re the one who needs to be safe out here, f/n. i’ll see you again tomorrow.” he then disappeared into the night, but his words were still in your mind.

beautiful.

beautiful…

the general thinks you look beautiful.

“oh dear me, my heart can’t take this…” you whispered as you hovered a hand above your chest, right where your heart was. you smiled to yourself as you entered your cottage and went to your room, laying on your bed as you hugged your pillow.

“i hope i’ll see him again tomorrow…”

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months

Text

Birthday Surprise ~ BC & JJK

WORD COUNT: 1.9K

GENRE: established relationships, SMUT minors DNI or you will be blocked!!! Unprotected sex, birthday surprise, threesome,double penetration

PAIRING: Chan x reader x Jungkook

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

All day long you'd been wanting the day to hurry up and pass all you wanted was to be home with your boyfriend but you'd been forced to go to work, and on your birthday no less. Sighing to yourself you unlocked the front door to your shared home and walked inside, a wave of excitement washed over you. The house smelt amazing like someone was cooking and you could hear Chan laughing with someone and a smirk tugged up on your lips. Chan told you that he had something special planned for you but he hadn't told you any of the details, just that it was something you'd been wanting for a long time.

Which could have been many things but as you stepped further into the living room, your eyes widened in surprise. Chan was sitting on the sofa with Jungkook, one of his closest friends and you knew exactly what he was doing here as they both turned to face you. Big smiles on their faces and a twinkle of mischief in their eyes,

"Surprise!" They shouted in unison as you looked around the room, it was covered in balloons and decorations making it festive as you pouted a little. No one had ever gone through so much effort for you before and the action made your heart skip a beat,

"You guys! You did all this for me?" You whined as Chan stood up, walking over to you and hugging you tightly before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"We wanted to make your birthday extra special," He said, winking down at you as you realised this was exactly what you thought it was.

A while ago during a drunken game of truth or dare Jungkook had mentioned that he had a small crush on you which had made Chan jealous at the time until he admitted he wanted a threesome with you. After a long talk with you the next day you and Chan had decided it would be something you both wanted to explore if you found the right person who turned out to be Jungkook.

"Happy Birthday! We've been planning this for weeks, we hope you like it." Jungkook said as he hugged you this time making you smile brightly at home taking you to the kitchen so you could all share a meal together.

The living room was transformed into a tiny celebration between the three of you, completely with a homemade meal and cake that was decorated with candles. The whole evening you were sharing stories about your time at work, snapping photos together and playing board games - of course, Jungkook won every single time.

"We have one last present for you," Chan whispered in your ear, you were sitting on his lap when you felt your whole body burning up at the sudden attention from both men.

Jungkook and Chan had had a long and extensive talk about this weeks ago when he first went to him with the idea and Chan wanted this just as much as you did. Chan looked at Jungkook before nodding and watching as the man walked over to you and smirked.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, still wanting to be a gentleman about this before you grasped his chin and kissed him softly. Chan smirked as he watched Jungkook's cheeks flush a bright red colour, your hands clutching onto Jungkook's sweater as you pulled him closer to you. You could feel Chan's cock twitch beneath you as you made out in front of him.

"This is so hot," Chan mumbled before he began peppering light and sensual kisses from your jawline down to your collarbones. You let out a small whimper whenever he bit down on your skin, sucking softly as you ground your hips against him. Kissing Jungkook was so different to how you would kiss Chan, while Chan kissed like he was waltzing along a dancefloor with you, Jungkook kissed you like he was a winner in a fight and you were the prize.

Chan runs his fingers along your skin, pulling your top down until he can get a perfect view of your breasts and wastes no time latching onto your nipple.

A moan left your mouth forcing you to pull away from Jungkook who was smirking down at Chan,

"Someone is a little impatient," He chuckled but Chan smirked around your nipple, his other hand squeezing the other breast.

"Have you seen Yn's tits? How could I stay away?" He groans out, sucking on your nipple again and making your head roll back staring up at the ceiling. You were already in heaven from the attention.

"You're right, they're perfect," Was all you heard Jungkook say before you felt another mouth on your other breast, sucking harshly on your nipples making you cry out both their names. Your eyes screwed tightly shut as you ground against your boyfriend's hips, needing more than just their mouths on you.

"You're so desperate for this, do you want us both to fuck your greedy cunt?" Chan's demeanour switched as you whimpered.

"Y-Yes."

"I mean, it's her birthday. We should be spoiling her," Jungkook smirked as your body heated once again.

"I want to watch you come apart for both of us, you'll do that for us right, angel?" Chan's nickname for you sounded like sin on his lips and you nodded frantically at him. Both of the men smirked at one another stripping off their clothes as you did the same, removing every bit of fabric until you were bare in front of them.

"Stunning," Chan whispered in complete awe of you, it didn't matter how many times he'd seen you naked before it was always a sight for him and he never wanted to look away.

"Beautiful," Jungkook whispered running his hands over the curves of your body making your spine tingle at the attention. It had taken a while for you to accept being naked in front of Chan but you finally felt confident in your own skin to do it. Jungkook was the first to make a move on you as he laid you down against the floor, his lips kissing down your stomach until he reached your clit and his fingers slid into you,

"You're so tight," Junngkook pants out, slowly moving his fingers in and out of you as you moaned out softly,

"I can't imagine what my cock is going to feel like." He groans as Chan smirks down at you, your eyes finding his as you bite down on your lip.

"F-Fuck," You moaned out as Jungkook began quickly driving his fingers in and out of you, your back arching away from the floor as Chan used his arm to playfully hold you down. Your orgasm was growing faster as your legs started to shake, whimpering out Jungkook's name,

"I-I'm gonna cum...P-Please...Fuck! Please." You pleaded, your hands finding something to grip onto as you rocked your hips.

"Cum for him, Yn," Chan told you as began sucking on your nipples again,

"Cum for both of us," He added making you cry out their names as your orgasm washed over you. Neither Chan nor Jungkook slowed down as they watched you throw your head back against the floor letting out the loudest moan you'd ever done. Chan kissed up and down your neck as he slowly lay down on the floor beside you,

"Ride me, angel." He instructed as you were quick to get up off the floor and straddle your boyfriend's lap, Jungkook watched as you lined yourself up with his cock.

"You sure you can handle us both?" He asked now a little unsure about how this was going to work but you smirked at him over your shoulder.

"Positive," Your voice came out seductive and sweet before you sunk down onto your boyfriend letting him fill you inch by inch until you were crying out his name.

"Fuck, Chan." You whined out,

"That's it, angel. Take my cock, just like that," He moans out, spreading his legs wide and thrusting up into you, your head rolling back as you cried out. The head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made everything so much more intense.

"Jungkook, I want you too." You moaned out as you rocked your hips in time with Chan's thrusts, whimpering out as you felt something cold on your ass.

"Just prepping you, baby," Jungkook whispers as he massages lube onto your tight hole, slowly pushing a finger into you first making you gasp out. You'd tried anal before with Chan so it was nothing new to you but the feeling of Chan already deep inside of you with Jungkook's fingers drove you wild.

"Fuck me...Please," You begged as Jungkook slowly knelt behind you and lined himself up with your hole. Jungkook hisses as he slowly pushes into you, filling you up inch by inch until you are crying out their names.

"S-So fucking full," You moan out as you held onto Chan's chest for support. You cried out as you felt both of them inside of you, Chan's thrusting resumed as Jungkook slowly found his own pattern. Both of them alternated with powerful thrusts that drove you insane.

"I-it's too much," You squirm a little, moaning out as you clutched onto Chan's chest, Chan's thrusting slowed and Jungkook stopped completely, looking at Chan for confirmation to continue.

"Colour." Chan moaned out as he stared at you, his eyes softening as he watched you closely.

"G-Green," You told him, letting him know that while it was too much you knew you could handle it.

"You can take it, angel. You're doing so f-fucking good," He groans out as he squeezes your breasts, looking up at you as you stare down at him bucking your hips as they continue to fuck into you roughly.

"You wanted this, don't forget that," Jungkook whispered in your ear, biting down on your skin softly as you cried out his name.

"J-Jungkook, C-Chan," You moaned out as you felt your second orgasm fast approaching,

"The birthday girl gets whatever she wants." Jungkook moans as he fucks into you roughly, your head rolling back to land on Jungkook's chest.

"Cum around our cocks, Angel, we wanna see you cum for us." Chan pants out, his hips thrusting faster as you whimper out his name, barely able to form words anymore.

"Be a good girl and cum," Chan ordered as you cried out, your orgasm hitting you and shattering around you roughly as you clenched around the men.

It didn't take long until both men were moaning loudly, you felt Chan's cock twitch inside of you before his thrusting slowed to a stop and you whimpered when you felt Jungkook pull out of you, suddenly feeling empty until a warm feeling hit the bottom of your back.

"You're so hot," Jungkook pants, falling onto the floor out of breath as you giggled at both of the men who looked just as fucked out as you did right now.

"Stay for a slice of cake and we'll head to bed together," You told Jungkook, your eyes looking down at Chan to make sure it was okay and he nodded, kissing your hand softly as you all lay there trying to calm down from your highs.

The following morning you had expected things to be awkward between the three of you but it wasn't at all, you'd kissed Jungkook goodbye and he headed home leaving you and Chan with the day to yourselves.

"I'll never share you again." He told you as he drew invisible patterns into your skin, your head snuggling into his neck as you nodded at him.

"I never want to be shared again, I'm all yours." You promised him, placing gentle kisses on his skin as he shivered a little at the touch.

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sweetiecutie · 6 months

Text

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov

A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭

Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.

König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.

In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.

Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.

König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?

So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.

From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.

Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.

Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.

Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.

What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks

Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.

Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.

Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.

Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:

Soon she will be mine

#slasher!konig #cod könig #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #cod fanfiction #cod mw #cod mwf2 #cod modern warfare #kortac #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod x reader #call of duty writing #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

Text

"Espionage" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Lord de Witt is throwing an exclusive banquet for socialites - just the perfect opportunity for Kaz to put his hands on whatever the aristocrat has in his safe. Fortunately, being an ambassador's daughter, you can easily smuggle him in but the two of you must pretend you're engaged to avoid suspicion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

If Jesper didn’t know Kaz, he’d think he was having a laugh.

“When you said you know someone, I was expecting everything but the daughter of an ambassador.” Then, in a slightly anxious manner, he turns to look at you apologetically. “No offence.”

There is something quite amusing in his uneasiness as though Jesper is expecting to be decapitated for as much as giving you a sour grimace. You’re probably the closest thing to nobility he’s ever been around.

“Worry not, sir,” you reassure him with a polite smile on your face, “I will try my best not to spoil your criminal quality.”

His eyebrows furrow and he leans towards Inej. “Did… did she just call me ‘sir’?” he asks quietly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she answers half-heartedly, busy pondering something else.

“How do you even know each other?” Jesper points between you and Kaz but the moment his index finger is directed towards you, he quickly puts his hand down. “I doubt you’ve been to the Barrel before.”

To any passerby, the sight of you and the Crows standing next to each other must look like a skit. With your expensive, light-coloured dress and back about as straight as a broomstick, you really do stand out like a sore thumb. Are those lowlifes bothering a proper lady or is she perhaps noble enough to offer them a few coins?

“That’s quite right. When my father was fraudulently accused of conspiring against the crown, mister Brekker,” out of pure habit you vaguely gesture towards him, “had been so kind as to solve this perplexing hoax. It is only fair that I agree to help him when he asks.”

Kaz checks his watch. Then, his expression suddenly becomes stern, focused, and you know exactly what it means.

“We should go,” he states. His eyes have a strange glint of both coldness and concealed worry to them. “There’s no backing out now.”

Your polite smile doesn’t falter. “I wasn’t considering such a thing.”

The dearth path around the lawn in front of the manor is blocked with countless carriages - horses of one freight have their nostrils pushed against the rolling stock of another cart. It seems as though Lord de Witt has invited half of the continent to his exclusive banquet. Half of them, one might assume, came out of courtesy or simply because of the other guests sure to attend.

Mixing into the crowd of rich men and aristocracy, choking on the powder and perfume, you tell Kaz the basics of banquets like this:

“Let me do the talking. You’re accompanying me, which among socialites makes you akin to a show horse. Of course, someone might ask you a question but it will be pure courtesy. They don’t actually care, because they don’t know you. Answer shortly and politely.”

“Will it not raise suspicion that the ambassador’s daughter is engaged to a no-one?”

“Not if he’s a First Army veteran, wounded on the front lines by a Fjerdan savage,” you say in a theatrical manner. His perpetual frown elicits a chuckle from you. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sure you can sell it. Besides, if you seem grim enough, which shouldn’t be a problem honestly, the guests won’t dare ask any more questions.”

The porter nods knowingly in your direction. Despite his old age, he’s quick to recognize the little lady you once were. You offer him the invitation but he waves his hand in dismissal. His fingers tremble slightly, making you wonder in all of your melancholy whether he’d still be able to do all those small magic tricks he used to entertain you with.

Following the mob of guests, you end up in a spacious ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflect candlelight, causing ethereal rainbows to dance across the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Some of the artwork presented landscapes, other battles and even Saints - all of them equally breathtaking. The hall is filled with a plethora of scents: vertigo-inducing perfume, imported fruits, freshly-cut flowers, braised meats. To Kaz, this is the smell of wealth but to you, the ballroom only smells of home.

Appearance-wise, Kaz falls a bit behind compared to the three-piece suits and cylinders but the difference is not stark enough for people to give him contemptuous glances. In all honesty, this will help you sell the yarn you’re spinning. After all, what veteran has enough money to buy a whole suit for just one evening?

“Come on, we should say our greetings to the host,” you say quietly while gently nudging his arm.

As though you are something of a Grisha yourself, the middle-aged man in question suddenly appears in front of you. His face has gained a few deep wrinkles since the last time you saw him but still, his prominent laughter lines are the first thing people notice about him. Considering what kind of person Lord de Witt is, it’s a reliable first impression - a rare occurrence among thieves and noblemen alike.

The man’s face beams with happiness when he recognizes you, his eyes nearly disappearing in a genuine smile. “Ah, принцесса!” he exclaims, opening his arms. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Holding your hand, he meaningfully leans down but never presses a polite kiss against your skin. Instead, he curtly nods while maintaining eye contact, uneasy at the thought of such a gesture.

“I thank you for the kind words, Lord de Witt,” you answer. “It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

He furrows his eyebrows and dismissively waves his hand. “Nonsense, you’re not just an ordinary guest. Tell me, how’s your father? Is our ambassador in good health?”

“The weather is terrible on his knees, I’m afraid. Only laudanum and nettle curb his pain enough to let him work. If I may inquire as to where Lady de Witt is? I haven’t seen her among the guests.”

Lord’s face grows brighter once again but this time there’s a sense of longing in his tired, grey eyes. “My dear Betty left for Novyi Zem just a few days ago. Ever since Lady de Serre expressed interest in her antique collection, she’s been eager to go back.”

Kaz, so far unnoticed by the aristocrat, glances between you and the man. You’re exchanging mere greetings and courtesies, yet he’s learned quite a few interesting things in just those few sentences. Nobility, as it seems, will say everything and anything as long as they think they’re talking to an equal.

His inquisitive thoughts must have pushed some Saint’s hand because Lord de Witt suddenly turns his attention to him, although continues talking to you. “The dapper young man is your husband, I presume?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” you say with a bashful giggle - very ladylike, even if forced. “Igor Dreesen,” you introduce him. Kaz shakes the Lord’s hand without ever giving away that he’s never heard that name before. “He has fought in the First Army, on the front lines.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, gentleman.” Lord de Witt has an iron grip on Kaz’s hand, holding it significantly longer than Brekker is comfortable with. “May we all have your bravery and loyalty. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Kaz waits for the Lord to be out of earshot before turning to you. “He seems to know you well.” Maybe you’re reading too much into it or maybe there is a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“When I was younger, I used to come here every week. Valeriya de Witt, Lord’s eldest daughter, taught me embroidery. I know this manor like my own home.”

“Then you surely know where the safe is.”

“It could be in his bedroom or in his office.”

Kaz cocks his head. “So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve met quite a few noblemen and state officials, Kaz. The older the money, the less we’re careful. De Witt’s office is next door,” you motion your head to the side.

Strolling through the ballroom towards the office door, weaving your way between gold-threaded gowns and made-to-order suits, you can’t help but wonder about the master thief by your side or rather what the world looks like through his eyes. You can recall so many gossip exchanges where a group of complete strangers would discuss their wealth and business, believing that their secrets are safe among socialites similarly to unaffiliated thugs discussing their commissions over a pint of watered-down beer. In a thief’s world, you’re something of an encyclopedia on fast enrichment. Maybe telling a secret or two could be treacherous of you but in the grand scheme of things, you think it’s not nearly enough to cover your debt.

You lean towards Kaz, speaking in a low voice. “See that lady with a scandalously huge hat? That’s lady Maria de Bouvier, harbors so much contempt towards her stepmother, she’d probably be elevated if some of the jewelry was to disappear.”

Brekker spares you a questioning glance but doesn’t say anything.

“Or that retired soldier by the pillar? Next to the girl dressed in all-white?” you ask him. His keen eye quickly finds the dark green jacket with an obnoxious amount of medals attached. “Captain Geoffrey van der Greiss, earned most of his fortune from smuggling. Open any crate with fish at the Eastern harbors and the sides of the box will be filled with cash. Yours to take if you can bear the smell.”

Kaz suddenly steps in your way, stopping you. His usual frown appears more like a scowl now. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he spits out. “You’re so eager to point me towards easy wealth. It’s not just about returning a favor, is it?”

You look away for a moment - you should have expected that if someone was to notice your motive, it would be Kaz Brekker himself. His face is still contorted into an expression of contempt or anger when your stare returns to him.

“Have you ever, even for a single second, considered what would have happened to me had my father been found guilty?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I have.”

“I often do. He would have been locked up in Hellgate or simply killed. The family fortune would dwindle rather quickly as my mother and I would live off of it. Then one day the money would run out, we’d have to sell our house and live modestly if not on the streets. No one would employ us because of the scandal and soon we’d find our place in a brothel. All of that did not happen because of you, Kaz.” His expression visibly softens, even if he’s doing his best not to show it. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want it.”

Without waiting for you to continue, he resumes walking towards the office door. Although off-limits to the guests, the manor staff is simply too busy to pay attention to anything else other than restocking drinks and food. On the other hand, the guards employed by Lord de Witt are so convinced drunk aristocracy doesn’t need nannies that they’re playing cards in some dark, isolated corner and drawing lots when someone has to go swipe some alcohol and lamb from the kitchen. Perhaps they are paid to complete much different tasks but if someone is familiar with de Witt’s banquets, they wouldn’t be exactly surprised - a scandal is yet to happen inside his manor.

You meet Kaz’s gaze but immediately regret it. There’s something both chilling with determination and burning hot with focus, making you feel rather flustered at the intensity of it all.

“Make sure no one comes in here,” he says quickly before swiftly crossing the remaining meters and sliding inside the room. For a man with a limp, he’s exceptionally agile.

Minutes go by while Kaz is absent and you begin to worry. What if someone caught him? Or if he got injured somehow? He may be something of an atelier of theft but he’s still a man, after all.

Debating whether to go after Kaz or trust his expertise, you don’t notice a young man approaching you:

“Excuse me, my lady, but you are the ambassador’s daughter, are you not?”

Torn out of your spiraling thoughts, you look up at him with wide eyes. He has a kind face with strong features. His tanned skin is in contrast with his creme-coloured suit, creating a quite enticing sight. Warm, brown eyes study you with interest.

“I am, master…” you make a meaningful pause.

The man immediately picks up on your cue. “Tolkov Ilya Romanovich. My father is the legat of Ketterdam’s Merchants’ Guild.” Contrary to Lord de Witt, Ilya doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Oh, I have heard about you. Horse racing enthusiast, is it not?”

He gives you a flustered chuckle. “My vices precede me, I see. As does your beauty, if I may say so.”

You feel your cheeks warm up. There’s something about Western men’s charm that really gnaws at a lady’s heart. “That’s very kind, master Tolkov.”

“Lord de Witt spoke of you with exceptional fondness. I thought it only appropriate to witness your marvel myself.”

At the same time, Kaz is slipping back through the office door into the ballroom. Judging by the lack of interest he attracts, none of the guests even noticed his disappearance. He is making his way back to you, when he catches the sight of a rather dignified man politely kissing your hand. Although you don’t look swept off your feet, there’s nothing akin to discomfort on your face either. Kaz feels sudden uneasiness in his chest like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, while being unable to place his gaze elsewhere. He doesn’t even know his face has turned into a grimace of distaste.

“You’re finally back, my love!” you dramatically exclaim when Kaz reaches you and the stranger. His expression is rid of anything pleasant but you decide to play along for now. “Master Tolkov, this is my fiance, Igor Dreesen. Darling, this is the son of the legat of the Merchants’ Guild, Ilya Romanovich.”

Legat of the Merchants’ Guild? Finally someone worth knowing of.

Kaz shakes Ilya’s hand but that marks the extent of his politeness. “I do not take kindly to anyone descending on my lady,” he says in a stern voice.

“But of course, sir.” Tolkov nods curtly. Annoyed or not, he’s proficient at keeping his face blandly kind. “My sincere apologies.”

Ilya gently bows his head towards you before leaving the two of you alone. Your gaze follows him until the man disappears among coiffures and cylinders. Then, you look at Kaz with hardly hidden amusement:

“You play your part better than I was expecting.”

Kaz, however, completely ignores your comment. “The safe isn't here. It must be in the bedroom. Where is it?”

“Upper floor. There’s the grand staircase in the vestibule but we can take the kitchen stairs, there won't be many people in that part of the mansion.”

The presence of ground floor guards is revealed only by loud laughter from behind the door leading to the staff rooms. All of the guests could just leave at once and none of them would notice. Still, you’re exceptionally careful when sneaking between the tables that are bending under the weight of food - even a small misstep, nudging one of the silver platters, could cause a cacophony loud enough that someone might hear it, even if not the guards in question.

You’re leaning against the wall when walking up the spiral stairs. Cocking your head to the side, you’re trying to look into the hall on the first floor but there’s not much you can actually see. As it appears, theft takes a lot more faith than you had previously thought.

The upper floor guards are out of sight but you don’t let yourself give in to the sudden feel of relief - this is only the first step into this little big scheme. There’s still a safe to find and an exit to make.

There’s a long, red carpet covering most of the floor. Although it muffles Kaz’s cane, it also makes the steps of the guards hardly audible. If you do see one, you’ll have to rely on quick thinking and a certain level of stupidity accredited to aristocracy.

Left turn. Pair of doors. Two right turns. Another left and another right. And then - footsteps.

“Someone’s coming,” Kaz whispers. His keen eyes are scanning the long corridor to find anything remotely close to a hiding spot. Decorative cabinets could well work but only if the unwanted passerby doesn’t walk past them.

The idea, a true testimony of quick thinking and aristocratic carelessness, hits you like a bolt out of the blue:

“Push me against the wall,” you order him.

His head snaps towards you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. “What?” he stutters out.

“No one likes clingy couples.”

There isn’t any time to discuss and ponder as the footsteps grow louder. Visibly displeased, he puts his arm against the wall next to your head. At first you’re wondering just how enraged your father would be had he heard about this but then you smell Brekker’s cologne and suddenly one nervousness is changed for another, a more bashful one.

The footsteps, as one might expect, belong to a lonely guard patrolling the manor. His face is grim even before he notices the misplaced lovers. When his eyes do glance at you and Kaz, the soldier’s cheeks visibly raise and the frown quickly becomes more of an expression of disgust. Passing by the two of you, he grunts in distaste or irritation and continues walking farther down the corridor.

Kaz, to your surprising displeasure, wastes no time in putting more space between the two of you when the guard is out of sight. No words are exchanged like a collective agreement to pretend this little embarrassment had never taken place. But, it can’t really hurt him if he doesn’t know you’re thinking about it, can it?

With a confident push, you open the ivory-coloured door, their golden decorations glistening in dim lighting.

Lord de Witt’s bedroom is strangely dark compared to the rest of the house. At first glance, there is nothing that stands out as a possible hiding spot for a safe: a bed that could easily fit five people, a vanity with boxes of jewelry and cosmetics, a small desk with private correspondence, a cold fireplace, a folding screen. The artisan taxidermy hanging on the walls only adds a touch of grim macabre.

But a master thief is not so easily dissuaded. You watch Kaz in a slight confusion and interest as he walks through the room, gently knocking against solid wood or carefully. brushing his hand along some surfaces. More than once he tapped different parts of the floor with his cane, only to let out a short sigh as if the strange rite gave him some kind of information but not necessarily the one he was hoping for.

Then, as though he had known all along or played a secret magic trick, he pulls the base of a taxidermied boar’s head. The decoration, for a lack of better word, moves on hinges, revealing a strongbox - one of those that will survive explosives as the manufacturer promises. The safe has a dial and a handle, rendering any kind of traditional lockpicking useless. But Kaz Brekker, as you’re about to witness, is not much of a traditional thief either:

He puts his ear against the iron box, turning the dial a few times in one direction and the other. Then, he lays his other hand on the safe’s door, his whole body leaning against it. Kaz begins slowly turning the dial in one direction. A silence falls between the two of you.

You can’t be sure whether the tension you’re feeling is because of the hallway perplexity or because he’s so determined to open this strongbox but either way, you’re completely uncomfortable with that. “To be honest, I used to be intimidated by you,” you throw at him in hopes of some kind of conversation, no matter how pointless.

“What changed?” he asks in an absent voice. His hand stops turning the dial only to start rotating it in the opposite direction - whatever he’s doing, it seems to be working.

“You have turned out to make a rather lovely spouse.”

A loud click resounds in the room and Kaz immediately pushes down on the handle, opening the strongbox. He reaches inside, pulls out some documents and quickly reads through them. Some he puts back, others he stuffs between his waistcoat and shirt.

“Such nimble fingers you have. I know a market for that,” you joke partially expecting the thief to say something sultry enough to get you to be quiet for the rest of the night.

He spares you a glance and goes back to rummaging through the contents of the safe. In an unexpected act of goodwill, he takes only some of the cash. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Even a lady of my sort has her weaknesses.”

You wait for his answer but Kaz doesn’t as much as look over his shoulder at you as though he hasn’t even heard your words. Although awkwardly, you patiently wait for him to be finished with whatever selective theft he’s committing. That tense silence again.

After a longer while, he closes the safe and locks it again. When he turns around to face you, something glistens between his fingers - a string of pinkish pearls. They flow along the shape of his hand as he offers you the necklace.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips. “I don’t want a payback, Kaz,” you shake your head to accentuate the refusal. “You have helped my family tremendously, this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand, “is the least I could do for you.”

“This isn’t payment,” he states.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

His intense gaze bores into you for a minute or two before he slowly answers. “It’s a bastard’s inclination.”

With a flustered ‘oh’, you take the string of pearls from him, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Still feeling his passionate gaze gliding along your face, you’re a little too abashed to meet his eye. Who would have thought - a thief with a heart!

1K notes · View notes

healmydesires · 1 year

Text

MELT AWAY

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; the night you give your love and body to your husband.

⇢ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff + smut (best friends to lovers)

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft!dom Anthony & sub reader, missionary, doggy style, hair pulling, dirty talk. Anthony has a big dick idk if this should be tagged but... yeah. he also gets off to the fact that the reader is smaller/less tall than him. lots of overstimulation, morning sex. soft/rough sex. praise kink. lots of pet names. daddy kink.

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10,4K (yes I’m insane)

⇢ 𝒂/𝒏: can’t believe that I’ve deleted my blog when this post was at 4K notes 😭 but yeah I’m reposting it, so if you recognise it. yes it’s from me! pls show it some love again! 🫶 can also be found on my ao3 here!

⇢ I don’t want minors to interact with any of my mature posts! thank you very much! 18+ only!

You never thought that Anthony would be the one you’d grow closest to, considering he’s a couple of years older than you. You’d think Daphne or Eloise would be your best friend. While you’re close to every Bridgerton, nothing could ever be as strong as your bond with the Viscount. It’s funny, you think, how life can bring you things and people you didn’t know you needed. People like Anthony, who became so important, it makes you question how you’ve spent your life so long without them.

But your feelings for the Viscount blossomed into something more than platonic after only a few months of knowing him.

You both fell in love with each other, fast and hard. Anthony was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with. Whenever he would look at you or say your name or talk to you, your stomach would erupt with butterflies. You’ve never had any strong feelings for anyone before him and you knew he'd always be the one to be on your mind at all times.

Anthony was there for everything, he’d seen you grow older, he was there when you learned how to dance, or how Benedict taught you everything he knew about art, over the years he saw you become an even more beautiful woman. He was there when you debuted into society, he was there when multiple men tried to court you only for him to be overprotective and tell you they would never be good enough.

You never understood why he’d be so overprotective, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. You’d always welcome any type of attention or care you received from him.

The Viscount has always loved and cared for you even before he could name the feelings he has for you.

He can speak about every inside joke you both have, tell everyone what your favourite colours are - because yes, you didn’t have just one favourite colour, he knows all your favourite books, knows how much you loved stargazing. He knows your favourite flowers. He knows that you’re very sensitive and have some occasional sensory issues.

He knows how much you love the arts and that you have a soft spot for animals and children. You love creating art yourself. He knows how you love with your whole heart, or hate something like your life depends on it. You like to read books during your free time, getting lost between the pages. Just like his sister Eloise. You love sunsets and sunrises, even if you’re not really a morning person.

Anthony likes to think that he knows everything about you. Except he was pretty oblivious to your feelings you had for him for many years.

Everyone knew about your feelings for each other, for so long, except for yourselves.

Until one evening, when Anthony once again refused you to accept a courtship from a potential suitor. Telling you once again that no one is ever good enough for you. That evening something snapped inside you, with tears in your eyes you asked him if there’s something wrong with you. You truly thought that one day he’d care for you too but to you he seemed like he only saw you as one of his sisters.

Or so you thought.

That evening he confessed how much he cares for you, how you’re always the one that’s on his mind. How you’re the only one he wants but couldn’t seem to admit it to himself and his family for so long. He said that the reason he kept telling you no one would be good enough for you, is because he wants to be the one to marry you. He told you how much he loves you with so much emotion that you were too stunned to speak for a while.

With tears in your eyes you eventually explained to him how much he means to you and how you’ve loved him since the first time you both met. Soon enough he enveloped you and kissed you with so much passion that every time you think about it, chills go down your spine.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue thinking about your relationship with Anthony. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - the Viscount has been your only constant.

You always knew that Anthony would be the one for you. But being married to your best friend is truly something that you never thought would happen. For so long you thought that it would only stay in your fantasies, yet here you are on your bed on your wedding night, daydreaming about your husband.

Sighing, you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees and stare at the lit fireplace in front of you.

A small shy smile plays on your lips as your thoughts continue to drift towards your husband.

You’re all alone in your newly shared bedroom when you finally notice how much you’re sweating and heating up. All that dreaming about Anthony made you nervous and warm. You know he’ll join you in your bedroom soon and knowing this makes you blush harder. It’s your wedding night, the night that would change everything forever.

Why are you so hot all over? It’s so silly, you feel extremely feverish, and your heart can’t find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs.

You’re warm. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and heat. And you feel your body throbbing, all at once, whenever you think of Anthony.

“God,” you whimper as your thoughts keep wandering towards him and what you would do tonight.

You’re biting your lip nervously as you continue to stare off into the fireplace, until you hear the door creak open, revealing the man of your dreams leaning against the doorway.

It still feels so surreal that you’re both able to say that you belong to each other now. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good he looks, how beautiful his heart is and how caring and loving he is.

He’s smiling as he takes you in, you’re wearing one of your night gowns that were specifically made for your honeymoon nights. His eyes continue to stare at you as you feel yourself grow even more nervous. The warmth inside you continues to rise, your cheeks becoming more hot as you look at him.

“My dear wife,” he says softly, his voice low. You start biting your bottom lip once again and his smile grows as he notices you becoming more shy at his words.

Slowly, he pulls himself away from the doorway and makes his way towards you. You gulp as you notice several buttons being undone from his shirt, showing you some skin. Heat travels to your cheeks once again once you realise you’re staring. You quickly try to avert your eyes from him but it is useless once he stands in front of you.

You could feel one of his hands reaching up to cup your face, tilting it towards his, making you look up into his eyes. The way his brown gentle eyes look into yours make you feel all hot over again. You would get lost into them forever if you could.

“It’s okay to stare, I’m all yours now.” He whispers with a small teasing smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He says as he caresses your face with fondness.

You feel yourself blush at his words, you lick your lips before clearing your throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You say with a shy smile.

He chuckles softly as he reciprocates your smile. His eyes continue to gaze into yours before his eyes move to your lips.

Your eyes widen slightly as your eyes catch his. “I think you’re beautiful too, the most handsome man that I’ve ever seen…” you whisper shyly. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his thumb trace your lips softly.

“Do I make you nervous, my love?” He asks teasingly as he leans his head down. He brushes his nose against yours gently before he grabs your face in both of his hands.

“I-I guess you do.” You answer softly.

“Why is that?” Anthony leans closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your lips, his nose touching yours once again.

You can feel your heart beating like crazy, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if he can hear your loud heartbeat as well. Your mouth feels extremely dry still you tried to swallow “It’s because,” your eyes shift from his eyes to his lips constantly “I-it’s our first night together…”

And with less hesitation and more neediness than you were expecting, Anthony’s lips are on yours. Your bottom lip slots between his while his hand moves to your jaw where he brushes his thumb against it delicately.

All your thoughts overwhelm your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. Eventually you lean closer against him and you move your hands around his shoulders as you kiss him back.

Anthony sucks lightly on your lips and then he slowly pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek. His lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your neck, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging lightly.

“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.

Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. “I have as well.” You finally whisper.

“How long have you wanted this?” Anthony whispers against your skin.

He groans and stops kissing you when you don’t reply to his question yet. Anthony stares at you, waiting for you to reply. Not realising your eyes were closed, you slowly open your eyes, looking straight into his eyes.

You swallow dry at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushes to your cheeks as you decide to tell him the actual truth, too anxious to even try and lie to your husband when he is looking at you like that. Like he’s about to devour you.

“Four years?” you answer, hesitant eyes jumping between his. “Ever since you told me about pleasure in the first place—”

Anthony groans and almost jumps at your lips. Kissing you full of passion, with everything that he can offer. You feel his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wants you open your mouth slightly for him. He slips his tongue past your parted lips and swirls it around yours.

You take all of his passion in, the warmth of his body, him being so close to you. The feel of his rough yet soft hands holding you close to his. You feel so lightheaded as he continues to kiss you.

After some time he slowly pulls away, finally giving you the chance to breathe in some air. Your whole body feels even more hot after the kiss, leaving you needy for his touch once again. You open your eyes as you take him in. His hair is a bit dishevelled from the way your hands were playing and tugging at it. He licks his lips as he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers as his eyes travel all over your body. You feel breathless as he continues to look at you, looking at you with so much love and you suppose desire.

He slowly moves to sit next to you, he pats his thigh as he looks at you with a small smile. You blush furiously and your body trembles more as you move your body to sit on his lap. You wrap your legs around him and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, pecking his neck softly, too shy to look at him. Your heartbeat is beating so fast and your head is swimming. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, one hand comes to cradle your head as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I would have never thought you'd be this shy.” He says teasingly and you continue to nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck at his words.

He lifts your head with one of his hands and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changes within seconds. Anthony is wrapped around you completely, a hand coming to cup one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted and desired someone more.

A string of moans are slipping past your lips as Anthony drops his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rest on his stomach against his buttoned shirt, his abs warm underneath your palms. You could feel him grow underneath you, making you whimper against him.

“Anthony—” you gasp after he licks the place he sucked a mark onto your neck.

He moves his head away from your neck, quickly leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a gentle but deep kiss. “Your lips are so heavenly,” he murmurs against your lips.

Your head is clouded with lust and you feel so much love for him. Your brain is quite literally mush and you can’t seem to hear what he says to you.

“Huh?” You whisper dreamily.

Anthony chuckles lightly as he takes in your state.

“I asked,” he whispers as he leans his head back down to your ear, “if I could undress you.”

It takes your brain a moment to wrap around what he’s asking, right now, to you, and when it sinks in you feel yourself heat up even more.

You want him so badly and you’re extremely turned on but you would be lying if you weren’t nervous right now. Everything seems even more real when he asks you that question. Considering that you’re a virgin, you’re very inexperienced and it makes you a bit anxious. You want to be the best lover for him.

Anthony quickly senses your discomfort and pulls his head away from your neck, only to look at you.

You’re biting your lip as you try to look away from his intense but gentle stare. His hands come to cup your cheeks, turning your face towards his once again.

“Princess,” he whispers as he looks at you with so much love and patience. “I know this will be your first time and I promise I’ll be gentle with you. I want to take my time with you tonight and I want to make you feel good.” He says as he holds your face in his hands. Anthony’s fingers caress your cheeks and you slowly close your eyes as you enjoy his touch.

You open your eyes again to look at his eyes. His eyes were filled with lust a couple of minutes ago but now you could see more than that. Love. It makes your heart feel warm as you gaze into his eyes.

You bite your lip nervously once again and you see his eyes move to your lips. You sigh contemplating whether you should tell him about your insecurities or not. Deciding to be honest with him, you speak up finally. “I want this, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I love and need you. I just…” you sigh as you look down at your hands, “I want to be a good lover to you.”

Anthony looks at you with so much warmth and care that it makes your insides melt. He smiles as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise, you’ll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect to me, you’ll always be good enough in every way.”

A soft smile grows on your face at his words and you lean up to kiss him gently. “Okay,” you whisper against his lips.

“Okay… what?” He questions with a playful smile. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you to undress me.” You whisper against his lips with a smile as you look deep into his eyes, “I want you.” Seconds later his lips press against yours.

The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s still no hurry when he tilts his head a millimeter to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. All your previous nerves slowly go away as Anthony kisses you so full with love. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Anthony to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you. Your hips accidentally move against him making him groan against your lips at the action.

Anthony peels his lips off yours, about to say something, when you launch forward, chasing his lips. He groans softly and moves his hand around to hold your face in his hands. He’s trying to pull away, determined to say what he needs to say, but everytime he does he goes back in, like his lips can’t be away from yours for more than a second. After leaving a few short kisses, he pulls back fully, eyes glazed over and lips a little swollen. You’re both taking your time to catch your breaths as you both stare into each other’s eyes.

You try to catch your breath, and when your lips part and you inhale and taste him and only him and nothing but him and the oxygen refilling your lungs. Everything about it makes you drowsy, something sweeps across your bottom lip and your breath turns into a gasp. His tongue wraps itself against yours, hot and slick as he tastes you deeply and what had been a gasp is now a loud embarrassing moan.

The way he kisses you, you are convinced that he’s the best kisser ever. His kisses are so sensual, so passionate and so full of love.

“Lord, I need you so bad baby” he groans against your lips. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You know your underwear is ruined by now. You’re so wet and turned on. He’ll always be the only one able to do this to you.

“M-more, please please,” you whine against him.

“You know when you beg like this I can’t say no to you, my love.” He says with a big grin.

Fingertips find the hem of your nightgown and you lean back a bit. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your white lacy nightgown.

You don’t know what to do with your hands at all. They’re trembling like crazy, and your core is, too, as he drops the piece of fabric to the floor and leans down to start kissing along the crook of your neck.

His large hands find the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches to it, holding you tight as he works his way with kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts.

You can feel your heartbeat picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips move to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re so… beautiful” He whispers into your ear.

Immediately, you feel a chill go down your spine, the warm sensation pool down low and more wetness forming between your thighs.

You feel his tongue licking up a stripe of your neck, your eyes are fluttering shut and you tremble against him as a moan escapes your lips. You feel him pull away and you open your eyes slowly seeing him look at you as if he’s trying to hold himself back from jumping you.

His eyes wander all over your chest, you’re bare from the waist up and you can’t help but feel so desired as he looks at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up as he licks his lips as he stares you up and down.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. Anthony breathes in through his nose, you blush harder at that comment and shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “God. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. Your very being consumes me.”

That’s all you’re given before he wraps her lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks passionately.

“My lord” you whimper, nails grabbing at his white shirt or something to cling to, and you feel the warm vibrations of a chuckle against your flesh. His tongue begins licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.

You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight as he pushes your hair back and kisses the corner of your lips lovingly.

His lips come to kiss your lips deeply once again. He both rolls you over so that you’re underneath him instead. So lost in the kiss already, you moan as you enjoy his touch on your hips.

“Ah!” You gasp as you feel his head lean down to lick and suck your neck while one of his hands comes to squeeze one of your breasts. You feel yourself aching, the feeling in between your legs feels almost unbearable as you could feel yourself dripping against your underwear.

“So beautiful…” he murmurs as he kisses your chest.

The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.

“It’s unfair,” you whine as he continues to kiss you.

“What is?” He whispers as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, coaxing a loud moan out of you.

“T-that I’m almost naked and you aren’t…” you whisper as he brings his head up to look at you.

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss your forehead lovingly. “My wife wants to see me naked?” He teases as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Anthony!” You gasp before he leans down to kiss your bare shoulder. “That’s improper!”

“What?” He laughs at your reaction. He shakes his head as he continues to stare at you. “Everything we have done up until now tonight hasn’t been proper.” He whispers as he leans up to brush his nose against yours.

“I’ll ask again, do you want to see me naked?” He smiles as he looks at you.

You pout as your cheeks heat up at his question. “Why do I have to say it? Obviously I want to see you.”

Anthony chuckles before leaning down to peck your lips again. “Wasn’t so hard was it?”

You huff playfully before his hands come to grab yours, moving them towards his chest.

Your hands slip onto his bare chest, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and so firm. He feels like a dream. You feel like you could wake up any moment, as if all of this is a dream. He helps you unbutton his shirt as he stares down at you. It comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chest.

“Oh lord…” you gasp.

He smiles softly as he lets you admire him, enjoying your shameless gaze.

“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently “and it’ll always be only for you.” He whispers as he takes one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action, making you blush even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You love him so much. His mouth is like heaven to you. You’re convinced this is a dream still. He’s everything you could ever ask for. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at his strands softly making him moan into your mouth.

The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core. You moan softly against his lips as you rub yourself against him.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he pushes your hips gently against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and his hand moves down to your heat, into your underwear. His mouth falls from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your parted lips.

It's very, very wet; more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

There’s a smile on Anthony’s face as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation.

"You're so wet for me, kitten. I absolutely love it." You whimper at the nickname he gave you and you buck your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He notices and slips a second finger in, his pace speeding up with the addition. Your hands clutch the off-white bed sheets as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him both curl them and spread them.

You gasp, his lips make their way to yours, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anthony groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.

“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Anthony leans down to trap your lips in another deep kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips as you whimper against his mouth.

You feel your legs spread even more open for him at the feeling of his finger pleasuring you. His tongue slips into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan and whine as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“God, I want you so bad.” He groans as his hand shifts, thumb settling against your clit to work it smoothly, and he thrusts another finger inside you slowly, curling his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.

“You have me, always.” You whimper as your body trembles underneath him. So overwhelmed with the arousal and emotions you’re feeling right now.

His eyes are burning holes into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastens his motions inside you, you moan out again and squeeze your eyes shut. That burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen making your back arch beautifully.

“Open your eyes for me my love, please look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze is what it takes to make the dam break. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving on their own against his hand.

“You’re doing so well for me baby girl,” He says as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you feel your consciousness finally come back to you, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. He slowly and gently pulls your underwear off your body leaving you completely bare for him. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are.

Standing up he slowly makes work of the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in front of you. Your eyes widen as you take him in. You can’t help but wonder if he is going to be able to fit inside you. He’s huge. A chill goes down your spine as he licks his lips while he looks at you. He’s so handsome, his body is truly beautiful.

He slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, you feel his hand come up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel one of his hands wander all over your body making you breathless already.

You feel his member momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.

He pushes your back up against the bed, pressing himself flush against your body. He brings his lips down against your own once again, stealing your breath and making you whine needily in his mouth. He groans in response, his hands slowly drifting down from your waist towards your hips.

“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Anthony pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”

You need him so bad. You feel him press kisses all over your face, he starts pressing tender kisses everywhere on your face and body. Panting you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his. You feel him caress your arms softly, comforting you. Eventually you feel his lips move lower down your body. Littering your body full of love and affection.

You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly. You need him so bad.

He travels all the way down until he is face to face with your heat. Anthony gently spreads your legs further apart for him with his strong hands. You can see his arousal showing in his eyes. Licking his lips he leans down to press a kiss on one of your thighs, so close to where you need him the most.

A loud broken moan leaves your lips as his lips finally meet your wet heat. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet tongue and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. You feel your body trembling and you try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips.

Strong arms are locked around your thighs, he secures your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

You can feel Anthony chuckle against your heat making you feel even more hot all over. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on your shared bed, and it’s so good you can barely even figure out what he’s doing with his tongue.

Anthony moans into you, the vibrations full and hot, and you splutter.

“A-ah t-this is too much” you squeak, your voice sounds strangled and full of desperation. You’re so close to the edge “I c-can’t this is too-too much.”

“Easy my love,” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your right thigh. Your whole body is trembling from the new sensations he just gave you.

“My lord” you mumble softly.

“It’s okay Y/N, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”

“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.

“Alright.”

But after a couple of seconds waiting it feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. When he leans down to dip his tongue between your folds once again.

You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anthony is lapping at you with determination, taking care not to be too rough or too fast this time and push you over the edge only when you’re ready for it.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “My-my-my gooooohd…”

“I know” he mumbles, his lips sealing around your clit and you almost jump out of your skin at the action. “God- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”

You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, his arms press into your hip bones to pin you in place as you buck into him again, trying to get closer to that feeling of his tongue lapping on your clit and urging him to do more.

“Ah Anthony baby, oh my goooood” you cry out loud. You’re sure the rest of the people in the house have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he moves to curl his fingers into you. Anthony eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep crying out his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

You are so so close. Suddenly you feel his fingers retreat from your core and you whine at the loss of his fingers. This makes Anthony chuckle. He leans down again. Slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You feel so dizzy from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you writhe underneath him. “Fuck, Anthonyyyy.” You whimper when he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of you just as his fingers had been doing moments before, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name. You were this close to coming on his face, but your body needed one more little push.

“Come on, kitten, come for me.”

You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

You feel Anthony still licking up your wet heat, his mouth is heavenly. He’s now licking every last remaining wetness coming out of your entrance, moaning at the taste.

You whimper because you feel so overstimulated. You tug at his hair softly trying to signal him that you can’t take it anymore for now.

“Such a good angel,” he whispers as he retreats his mouth from your heat and he wipes your juices off his mouth with a small smile while looking at you “You did so well my love.”

Anthony presses a kiss on your hip bone, then slowly moves his body, finally facing you. You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to keep your eyes open. He smiles down at you with so much adoration, it makes your insides melt.

He leans down to press kisses down your neck to your shoulders making you giggle as he litters your body full of kisses.

“Make love to me, Anthony,” you sigh, and he groans against your neck. He pulls back just enough to look at you, stroking your hair back from your face as his eyes look deeply into yours.

He surges forward and kisses you so passionately, taking your breath away. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anthony groans low, as your fingernails rake against his scalp. You melt into him as his arms hug you closer to him. You moan against his lips as you feel him massage your back and neck just slightly. This gave him the opportunity to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.

You let out more moans and whines against his lips as you both dance your tongues against one another. You whine as he pulls away smiling at you with a tender look in his eyes.

“You know I love you right?” He says as one of his hands reaches to rest against your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You feel yourself melt instantly as you look into his eyes and his soft touch.

“Of course I do, I love you too, so much.” You whisper and smile shyly as you lean up to him and you both meet in a soft kiss. The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Anthony rasps, and it’s because he’s reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Anthony swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready my dearest? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.

You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“P-please, Anthony,” you stutter, your body trembling even more “p-put it in, please?”

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again to put it in he leans down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Anthony slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Y-yeah, I just need a moment.” You murmur.

“Anything for you, my love.” He smiles as your eyes are drifting close.

You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size and you bite your lip as you open your eyes again to look up at your handsome husband on top of you.

“P-please move.” You beg.

He nods quietly and starts by fucking you slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“So tight…” he groans.

The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, that it makes you gasp and you grab the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.”

You whimper as his lips, move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss.

At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head from the pleasure he’s giving you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“M-mmhmm fuck! Anthonyyyyy—!”

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “F-fuck you’re so loud for me princess, are you close?”

“Oh my” you moan, hot tears filling the corners of your eyes in pleasure, “I aaaaaam… I t-think so o-oh, fuck please!”

“Look at you, so desperate to come…”

The air is stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Another precise thrust has you whimpering, wrapping your legs around his hips, pushing him closer.

His mouth covers your own to swallow your mewls, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. His lips slide away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tries to suck in air again, and everything is too much. It’s just too much for you to handle.

He’s quickening his pace, hips snapping to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it kitten?” His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moan at the feeling of his speed, your third orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap any second now.

“Always, so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, god, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you whine as you think about him filling you up and you tighten your walls around him once again. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up Anthony… please.”

Those are the golden words he needed to hear, groaning he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle, the wooden headboard slamming into the wall.

“Fuuuffuuucck… I’m g-gonna… I-I’m g-gon…na… A-Anthony-y… I-I love you I love you I nneeeeddd yyouhhh h n-nnno I wwaaant mooorrre, I-I’m gonna–”

“Cum for me, pretty. I got you. Show me that I’m the only one who can make you cum like this. Cum all over me, princess.”

You come with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you hold his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. This orgasm felt more intense than the others, you’re feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re feeling. Anthony groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Ah fuck—“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good wife? Let me fill you up until my love is messy, hm?”

You nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. “Please… please put a baby inside me.”

He groans loudly at your words, he’s a stuttering mess and his hips are jerking wildly without his permission and he’s cumming inside of you deeply. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within you. He looks so beautiful coming undone on top of you.

You’re both trying to catch your breaths as he leans his forehead against yours. Eventually you feel him slowly roll off of you and he lays down next to you while he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You turn to your side towards him as he pulls you against him, his body hot and slick from sweat.

“I love you so much,” he says, his voice low, with a huge smile on his face.

“I love you too,” you say as you blush at how intensely he looks at you. You’re giggling softly as he wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly closer to his body.

“You’re everything to me… so perfect.” He whispers as he leans his lips down to yours to kiss you gently.

“You’re everything to me too…” you say against his lips with a smile.

The both of you soon continue to make conversation as you hold onto each other. Laughing and talking until you’re too tired to stay up anymore. The night is filled with touches, kisses and so much love.

——

When you wake up, it’s the morning, light slips through the partially open blinds and warms the room. You feel all hot, Anthony’s body wrapping around you from behind, spooning you, holding you close to him. Your legs are tangled together, and both of you are still naked, laying under the covers.

You feel him nuzzle against you, melting against him, still feeling so hot. Barely awake, you whine as you try to kick the thick cover off of your bare body and you sigh into your pillow. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep, your eyes slid open only to end up squinting at the offending sunlight.

You close your eyes again and yawn, stretching your limbs and a smile plays on your face once you’re done. At your movements, your husband moves closer, groaning and wrapping his arms around you, tugging you even closer to him until your back is pressed up against his warm chest. You could feel his breath on your neck, soft and slow. His morning wood pressing against your ass and you feel your cheeks heat up at the feeling. Rolling over, you’re met with Anthony’s sleepy face. You smile once again as you take in his soft and peaceful face, you bring one of your hands to trace his lips with your fingertips. Your fingers travel to his messy hair, running your fingers through his hair gently.

Anthony sighs softly before tugging your body closer to his once again. Your eyes start to drift shut again, sleep overtaking you slowly. You feel so content, being able to hold and just enjoy the morning with the love of your life. But before you can fall asleep once again, you feel his lips on your neck.

“Hmmm,” you mumble, still very sleepy. “What are you doing?” You giggle and try to wiggle away from him. His grip tightens around your waist, tugging you closer to his body once again.

Nuzzling his face against your neck, he responds, “You’re so warm and so beautiful...” He says as his fingers trace your back so gently and his fingertips feel so soft against your skin.

You giggle as he continues to kiss your neck, before you know it he reaches back to take the covers and pull them over your bodies. Cuddling you once again while holding your naked body against his.

“Anthony...” Your whines slowly turn into soft moans as he continues to kiss your neck. He’s switching between soft small chaste kisses to wet and deep kisses that you know will leave marks on your skin.

His kisses travel to your jaw, nipping at it gently making you a whimpering mess. He is so warm against you, cocooning you in his arms and making you melt against his touch. You feel more wetness pool down low between your thighs the more he touches and kisses you. Rubbing your legs against each other, to get some friction, you hear Anthony chuckle before one of his hands comes between your thighs, pushing your legs apart for him.

“I can smell how wet you are…” He whispers against your skin making you whine against him.

His mouth moves slowly towards your lips, engulfing your mouth in a deep and slow kiss. Anthony always kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His fingers move from your waist to your upper back, and his skin is so hot and wet against yours and to make things even worse his hands move once again to cup your face gently in his hands, deepening the kiss once again.

You wrap your arms around him as you hold him closer to your body. You feel his dick, so hard against your heat, throbbing against you. Bringing your leg up, you wrap it around his hip, grinding your wetness against him. He groans as he feels your dripping core against him.

“Please… Anthony… I need you.” You whisper against his lips. His fingers tighten against your hips as he grunts at your words. He removes his lips from yours, moving his mouth to your ear.

“How do you want me?” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. Your body shudders at his words and you whine as you continue to grind against him.

“I-I want you to take me.” You stutter shyly.

“How do you want me to take you?” He groans as his dick slips between your folds. “I have some ideas…”

Your cheeks heat up as he rolls you onto your stomach. He moves himself behind you, pulling your hips up, ass in the air for him. He stares at your wet heat, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. Your body trembles with anticipation. You’re dripping, so soaked for him.

Seconds later you feel his cock rubbing up and down your slit. You grip the sheets as he circles the tip around your entrance and you whimper as you buck your hips against him, wanting him to fill you up.

He grips your hips, holding you so you don’t make any movements any more. “Bad kitten… so impatient.” Anthony groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

“I want you so bad…” you whine, your cheeks heat up at your new favourite pet name he has for you. “D-daddy please… fill me up. Make love to me, I want your babies…”

He growls at the word and you’re glad that pulled a reaction out of him. He continues to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whimpers from your lips. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. He gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Fuck kitty,” he groans breathlessly, as his hands trace your body gently. “You’re taking me so well, we’re almost there.”

He thrusts the last parts of himself inside you, filling you up to the brim, you moan as he halts his movements, finally inside you all the way. “Fuck, angel, you look so beautiful like this, so small, taking me all the way underneath me.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself out of you making you whine at the empty feeling. “My wife… such a needy kitten.” He groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your pussy again.

“A-Ah daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. His hands come to move to squeeze the flesh of your ass while he continues to move against you.

You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. The noises that are spilling off your lips drive him insane, his dick throbbing inside you as you start to tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Does my wife love being filled like this?” He moans as he leans down to press kisses against your shoulders.

Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Anthony picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, whining you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood my lord, p-please more… harder please”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder and louder as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate whimpers. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my seed.”

“God, fuck Anthony, daddy fuck p-pleaaaase I—”

You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.

“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.

“Oh, o-oh m-my… please sir, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.

He growls, gripping your hips tighter as he picks up his pace once more. Your skin is all sweaty and hot. You try to catch your breath but from how Anthony is trusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.

“Does that feel good princess?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Anthonyyyy—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. His fingers press down on your little button making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming. You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down once again and licks your neck.

Anthony snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m so close, my love, please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.

“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear. “Cum around me… let me put my heir inside you.”

His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. The coil finally snaps, pleasure erupts in waves as heat overflows your body as you arch your back. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You feel yourself gushing against him, you moan as the overstimulation is getting to you.

“Fuck!” He grunts as he looks at you and feels you squirting all over him. “I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a baby into you, angel. Get you nice and full…”

Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud whimpers leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.

Anthony sighs as he finally feels his climax subside. His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and he watches his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly and he feels himself harden again at the sight. He wants to take you again but he knows he needs you to recover first.

“Hmmm, I think your little cunt needs to look like this every single day, don’t you?” He whispers with a smile.

You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.

“You did so well my love,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with amusement.

“I know you want more… I can practically feel how hard you are against me.”

He hums at your words with a smile as his lips move against yours again. “I’ll always want you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too…” you whisper shyly.

“I’ve been very nice, very good to you. Maybe you would love to squirt all over me again?” He smiles at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push.

“Anthony!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.

As he kisses and touches you again and again, you settle in for a long day, as Anthony intends on wearing you out.

#anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #my writing

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meidnightrain · 18 days

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AN UNFAVOURABLE OUTCOME❞ - aventurine

summary: sometimes a gambler takes risks to win, but this was one that he wasn't brave enough to take

warnings: reader is gn, reader and aventurine are rivals, angst, hurt/no comfort

notes: first entry for ten days writing for aventurine while i wait for his banner. i tried writing like 😭

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @staarri

you never understood the sigonian with the pretty eyes and a voice as smooth as honey, parading around like he owned everything in his sight; it was just that AVENTURINE hadn’t bought it yet. even worse was that he was a rank higher than you at the ipc, which would mean that you’d be subjected to being used without even getting a say. it was just one rank, but it felt like more; he was at the top of the tower while you were still at the bottom of the stairs.

his eyes always lingered on you for reasons you could never decode; it would always be a mystery to you. but your immense dislike and hatred for him were not subtle. in fact, you personally ensured to display your disgust in his presence in hopes of ticking him off, but it never worked. that would only make you hate him more.

it wasn’t until you got paired together with this mission that something in him snapped; it was uncharacteristic of his sultry character. from a peacock fluffing his feathers to one of squawking rage. it triggered him to see you with someone else in the dim lighting of the casino. the atmosphere is slow, a lavender haze of colours and shadows, but all he could see is you. and he knows that it’s just for show, but it wounds him so. you were only doing this to garner intelligence for your mission, but he hated it. he hated the way that you smiled at that stranger because he wished that it was him.

he couldn’t stop himself; his hand reached instinctively to grab the stranger’s hand from caressing your face for a mere split second. you’re shocked; he practically appeared out of nowhere. last you saw him, he was busy gambling his way to the top of this casino, which had never seen the likes of him before.

“i think the lovely agent here could do without your company.” he smiled through clenched teeth, his sunglasses not doing a good job of masking his emotions in his glare. the man huffed, retracting his hand from the his and walking away with annoyance. AVENTURINE could feel it, anger practically steaming out of your ears because he ruined a perfectly good target.

he sighed, smirking as he removed his glasses. "you are as cocky as always if you think that just sweet-taking will help you get the information you need."

“i try my best.” you shot him a grin that didn’t quite reflect the expression on your eyes; there’s vitriol in your tone that splashes on him like acid. did it matter if your touch burned him? surely it couldn’t be any more painful than the marks they’d left on his body like that burn on his neck, forever proclaiming to the world his status as a slave worth no more than a handful of copper coins. and it was worth the pain if this was the closest thing to love he’d get.

“cocky isn't good.” his tone was serious and slightly harsh, unlike the cool persona he displayed at the table. he met your leer with a level-headed stare, observing you blankly and ensuring that it did not betray his heart.

“it gets you in trouble, and right where you don't want to be.” he said, and his tone softened a little just for you, but you’d never notice it. you were always too blind to see the way he acted around you because you were blinded by hate.

“but it makes you take risks that you won’t ever take if you lack the balls to do so.” you retorted. you never knew when to back down; that was something he always admired. even if he knew that would be the cause of your downfall, you’d be bringing everyone down with you in the process.

AVENTURINE clicked his tongue, shaking his head from side to side like you would chide a kid. "risks are only good when the possible good outcome outweighs the bad consequences, and you have to remember that risks can backfire."

your ego was bruised by his words, not that you would have admitted it. he always got in your way, and you didn’t know why he couldn’t leave you well enough alone to handle it yourself. “how hypocritical of you to say, when you take the biggest gambles nobody dares to bet their money on.”

"i take risks, yes, and i’ve taken the biggest bets... but what's the difference between mine and yours?"

you shifted back when he sauntered close to you, your noses nearly touching each other. you could smell the scent of sickly sweet soulglad in his breath, warm on your face as he whispered to you. "i calculate."

his eyes softened for just a moment, and you could have missed it if you had not turned your back on him. “hey, just… be careful. that’s all i’m asking you to do.”

"i just don't want you to get hurt, is all, and i’ll be damned if you do get hurt." he murmured, and you couldn’t have heard him over the loud music from the instruments and the cheers from the crowd as the encore started. he watched, voice stuck in his throat as you turned away from him. all he ever wanted was for you to look at him. not like that would ever happen. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared to see you throw yourself into danger headfirst.

he hated you like you hated him, but not in the way you were thinking. he hated how you managed to ruin his flawless plans without any effort; he hated how you could crumble the brick walls and navigate through the sandstorm that shields his heart; he hated that you didn’t even know what you did to him; he hated that you didn’t even like him back.

and those three words were a risk that AVENTURINE would never take, for your answer was an outcome that would be unfavourable to him.

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst

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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 8 days

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Anyone other than you

Summary- You and your supposed "enemy" get stuck in a cupboard while on a duo mission

Warnings- violence, gunshots, emo Wanda, mean Wanda, forced proximity, claustrophobia, confusion, not proofread!!

A/n - I dont know whether I hate this tbhhh idk whether it's because it took me sm breaks to write it but it feels off idkk

You entered the quinjet while sighing to yourself. How did you let this happen? You thought as you buckled on your seatbelt. Getting put on a duo mission with the one woman on the team who hates your guts. Wanda Maximoff.

You never had any idea what you'd done to make her despise you so much but nothing you ever did seemed to make up for it. Everytime you spoke in a meeting you could feel her stare digging into your soul. The way she'd scowl when she entered what she'd presume to be an empty room only to find you inside. She'd always mumble something in a language you didn't understand before flouncing out the room. Things weren't any better when you were part of a group with her either. She'd barely respond if you asked her something or flat out ignore you.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get along with her either, trying to be as friendly with her as you were with everyone else. Offering to make her food, help her with household chores or help out with her mission reports but nothing you did ever seemed to stop her from glaring at you. She wasn't known to be the most outgoing person but you never saw her act this way with anyone else so eventually you gave up deciding it best to ignore her the way she did you.

Now, unfortunately you didn't have that luxury anymore. You'd begged and begged Tony not to put you on this duo mission even contemplating getting ill to avoid it. He had insisted you had to go on this mission apparently you and Wanda had the 'specific' skills skillset for this mission, whatever that meant you knew he was just bullshitting to get you to shut up.

So now here you were getting ready to set off on your two day long stealth mission with the girl who could barely stand to look at you let alone talk and work with you.

☆

You'd arrived at the hotel room you'd be sharing with Wanda and thanked God that you'd got their first and the fact there was two beds. Quickly you threw down your bag on the bed closest to the window and began to check out the rest of the hotel room.

You were smelling the soaps in the bathroom when in clomped Wanda, her doc Martins still managing to make some kind of noise over the soft carpeted floor. She was dressed in a long baggy grey sweater and black skirt with patterned fishnets. Her hands adorned with rings and her short bitten at nails painted black.

"It smells of smoke." She thinks out loud without noticing your precense in the room.

"Yeah sorry about that it's my new signature perfume." You try to joke hoping she might happen to be over her constant anger with you. You study her face through the bathroom mirror as you speak watching out for her reaction. At first you see the possibility of a smile forming on her face and a rosy colour on her cheeks but quickly it's replaced by her signature scowl and a disgusted noise sneaking past her lips.

"Oh. You're here." She talks as if she'd expected someone else to be here despite the many debriefs you'd had together about this mission.

You for one had had enough of her attitude around you acting as if you were something below her. "Yes I'm here like it or not. Can we at least just be civil for the sake of this mission." You groan while walking over to where she's stood, raking your hands through your hair. In response she grumbled out some kind of agreement and that was it.

So far things had been going fine, you'd both kept to your own routine with minimal communication between the two of you. For the most part you'd spent your time exploring the hotel you were staying in. It was cheap and smelt damp. You for sure would be complaining at how you got booked in this dingy one star place once this mission was over. You'd been excited originally as the hotel advertised having a twenty five metre indoor swimming pool which was plenty to keep you occupied however when you inquired at the desk the receptionist, who'd been ignoring you stood there for ten minutes while she read her magazine, told it was shut indefinitely.

Eventually you had to return to the room and when you did Wanda was already fast asleep on her bed, small snores sounding occasionally. You took note of how pretty she was when she wasn't scowling before sliding into your own bed for the night.

☆

You'd done the first half of the mission with relative ease, you and Wanda putting a side your differences for the greater good. Now it seemed as if things were taking a turn for the worse. Upon arrival you'd both scouted the building for any kind of agents or security around the building but found none however now it seemed the building was filling up with them. Two men following behind who you were attempting to fire at and run away from, which is much harder than Natasha makes it look in training.

From the whimper of pain which sounded sounded out and echoed down the corridor you assumed you shot one. This was your chance to lose them and Wanda realised that too as you both picked up the pace of your running.

Out of nowhere she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside a small dark box? No it can't be a box you thought as you looked above you and saw an empty clothing rail. It was a cupboard. Your eyes scanned around the little space you had while trying to avoid eyecontact with Wanda who was leaning over top of you with one hand next to your head against the wall of the cupboard to keep her upright.

Quickly the cramped and uncomfortable space became all too much for you. The lack of oxygen in there made you take shallow breaths and sweat pooled from your forhead. It felt like the walls were closing in. You should get out. No you had to. Trying to move to force yourself out startled Wanda who gripped onto your shoulder to avoid you both tumbling out and compromising your hiding place.

"What are you doing? Just stay still." She whispered angrily. Had her voice always sounding that good up close? At that thought a frown crossed your face and you briefly forgot how badly you needed to get out of this space you were entrapped in. It didn't make you completely forget though as you came to your senses and stopped thinking about how nice Wanda's voice was and remembered how your heart was thundering in your chest and you whole body ached to get out of this cupboard.

"Have to.. to get out." You breathe out, expecting some kind of rude response from her as your breathing further quickens and vision fogs up. Her actual response is nothing you'd ever thought you'd hear her say.

"Look at me y/n." She waits to make sure your making eyecontact with her before continuing. "Its going to be okay, this is all okay and this is nothing you can't do. Just focus on me not the four walls.." her voice was soothing and not completely unlike a lullaby. You still felt unsettled but nothing like before when you were desperate to get out. "Your gonna be fine." She says again as she takes your hand in her own gently squeezing it. The cool feeling of her silver rings against your sweaty palms helping further calm you down as your breathing once again becomes steady.

After a few minutes of silence where you just focus on your breathing and the feeling of Wanda's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand you begin to speak. "Thanks.. I know you don't really like me or anything but I appreciated that a lot."

"Its nothing really... also your stood on my foot." She tells you returning to her usual cold snappy voice. Quickly you moved your foot away muttering apologies as you did, unsure how long you'd been stood on her foot. "I don't hate you either. Well not really."

Your about to question her on why she acts this way around you if she really doesn't hate you but before you can she opens the cupboard door and you both stumble out thankful for the airy space around you. "Don't bring this up y/n." She says before leading the way out leaving you trailing behind a little confused. Was she mean? Did she hate you? Was that all for the mission?

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cyberfreaky · 1 year

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˗ˏˋ 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ´ˎ˗ [ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ]

pairing: tonowari x dilf!jake x fem!avatar

summary: you were tired of jake being mean to you — so you decided to fuck around with his nicer best friend.

warnings: nsfw content (18+ mdni), p & v penetration, oral (m & f receiving), sub!tonowari, dom!jake, praise kink, degradation, fingering, handjob, clit stimulation, slight angst, inaccurate plot (it’s an au y’all), honestly just a bunch of filth

notes: i need to start writing part two but this has been in my drafts collecting dust, i might as well start the series now lmao i hope you enjoy eee

p.s creds to @cuethediscoandthedrinks for the terms um’ma and up’pa hehe i loved using them in this

you were at your limits with jake.

he had been so cruel to you during your training sessions — going as far as ridiculing you for crying after he had yelled right in your face. you were well aware that he was strict & an irritable man at times, but you’d never expect him to treat you so poorly. he had never acknowledged you outside of your private time together — not even so much as a passing glance when you saw him in the village.

you wanted to be appreciated, to be wanted. you were fed up with just being used as his personal stress reliever. the only way you believed you could get him back was by doing the unthinkable.

“i love spending time with you.”

you were perched on the lap of jake’s closest friend — tonowari. his back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, thick legs sprawled out in front of him providing you with a comfortable seat.

“you do?” he questioned you, purring gently as your delicate hand skimmed through his braids.

your eyes stared lustfully into his bright ones — the building tension between you both and ever so subtle gyrating of your hips were causing his length to swell. “of course i do, up’pa. you’re so kind to me.”

“feared i was boring you.”

“never. you make me feel good.”

you shifted closer to ‘wari, your clothed heat grazing the pitched tent in his loincloth. his breath hitched at the sudden touch — the sensation itself was nearly orgasmic for him. your azure fingers cupped his flushed cheek, your thumb brushing the warmth of his skin. seeing him crumble before you with only the slightest touch was an unforeseen sight for you — typically, you were the one who submitted so easily. this was a new colour for you.

tonowari always had eyes for you, the way you confidently strutted around with no care in the world enchanted him even further. you were perfection to him, he’d spent months yearning for a slither of your attention. but his feelings for you were subdued once he discovered his good friend was secretly seeing you, and it broke his poor heart. every time jake mentioned your name in a conversation, a tinge of jealousy would erupt inside him. all he craved was your touch, but now that he had all he wanted — all he could feel was guilt.

his chest heaved, shaking his head anxiously. “this isn’t right. i..i can’t do this to jake.” ‘wari stuttered, the gentle strokes from your nimble fingers on his skin wasn’t helping him suppress his obvious desire.

“jake has nothing to do with me anymore, he had his chance and he blew it.” your face etched closer to tonowari’s flattened ear, your mouth ghosting across the soft earlobe. “don’t worry about him, he’ll never find out about this.”

“d’you promise?” ‘wari gazed helplessly at you, his puppy-like eyes made you feel smitten.

“of course.”

you leant forward and pressed your lips against tonowari’s, practically tasting his desperation. his lips were soft, almost silken. he parted them to allow your tongue to intertwine with his. butterflies emerged into ‘wari’s tummy as he whimpered into the passionate kiss, unconsciously allowing you to engulf him in your domineering presence.

“wanna make you feel good.” you whisper into the kiss, slowly pulling away. “you gonna let me do that, up’pa?”

he nodded feverishly. “yes.”

“good boy.”

you began leaving sloppy kisses down his neck, occasionally nipping at his skin to leave a trail of purple love bites. the heavenly sounds of tonowari’s whimpers were fuelling you — you were relishing in the way you made him feel so needy.

you left kisses all across his beautiful body — with no exception to his sensitive nipples. your tongue swirled around the hard nub, while your fingers toyed with the other. ‘wari was a panting mess, head resting back as his eyes fluttered shut. he was far too ashamed to express out loud the immense pleasure he was feeling — you’d noticed when you saw him biting down viscously on his swollen lip.

“don’t be shy, my love.” you cooed. your fingers danced across the hem of his blotched loincloth, soon palming his aching hard on. “i wanna hear how good you feel.”

your sudden touch forced a guttural groan to escape his mouth. “p..please.” he winced once more as you removed the fabric, his throbbing cock hitting his abdomen. “touch me, please.”

you smiled at him as your fingers snaked around his bulbous tip, using your thumb to smear the beads of clear precum across the head. tonowari’s mind began to black out as you teased his cock — his poor hips bucking in the air to create some sort of friction around his girthy length. it was such an attractive sight, you could feel your pussy pulsating just watching him fall apart in front of you.

“you look s’pretty, up’pa.” you say. “i want you to make a mess in my hands, alright?”

“y-yes, um’ma.”

you gradually began to pump ‘wari, purposely using an agonisingly slow pace to taunt him. he mewled in pure anguish, hoping that the speed of your hand would quicken. you watched as tonowari’s face contorted in a devilish mixture of pleasure and complete desperation — his glistening eyes falling back as he felt the coil in the pit of his plush tummy about to snap.

your lips connected with his again as your wrist began to flick harder, earning a mouthful of muffled moans from the poor man. “faster, please.” he begged. “feels so good.”

“mm, you’re so polite, aren’t you?” you praised him — your words making him writher beneath you. “good boy like you deserves to cum.”

you kept your promise and increased the speed of your pace, relentlessly pumping at his quivering cock. tonowari’s hips began to buck once again, following the rhythm of your heavenly grasp. you would have forced him to stay still and edged him to an aching oblivion — but seeing ‘wari trying his hardest to coax out his rising orgasm was far too erotic for you to stop.

his pornographic moans only heightened when your other hand cupped his swollen balls, fondling the heavy sack as you jerked his aching length. “oh, eywa.” tonowari groaned shakily. a depraved moan nearly escaped your mouth as his salacious sounds filled your ears — you could feel the slick in your dripping cunt dampening your loincloth.

the mixture of both your hands pleasuring ‘wari to unbelievable heights were making his vision blur. you were so much better than he could of ever expected, the coyness he once felt was now replaced with loud, desperate grunts for release. “m’gonna cum, d..don’t stop!” he pleaded in between breaths. his eyes squeezed shut as his large hands landed on the moss floor, providing additional support for his trembling body.

you smiled proudly at tonowari. “cum for um’ma, just like the good boy i know you are.”

your final praises were enough to push him over the edge, the coil within him snapping swiftly. “m’cumming, um’ma. fuck!” he cried out. you felt his thick cock twitch in your palm, forcing your pace to quicken to an immeasurable speed. tonowari could not focus on anything but the desperate need for his release. ropes of pearlescent cum spurted from his throbbing tip, spilling into your welcoming hands.

the sounds of the forest were nothing but the heaving breaths of tonowari. you gave him a moment to relax, the intensity of his climax had taken a noticeable toll on him. it was a mere few moments before his pretty eyes were able to open, ‘wari was mesmerised as he watched lap up every drop of his salty load off your fingers. he was so dazed, feeling himself become overwhelmingly devoted to you. “did that feel good, ‘wari?” you ask him, snapping him out of the trance you had put him in.

“y..yes, thank you.” he panted breathlessly.

you peck his bitten lips, grasping onto his hand and guiding it to the aching wetness between your thighs. your slick had completely dampened the thin material, dripping sensually onto tonowari’s fingers. he gasped at the feeling, the mere stroke of your arousal was enough to make him hard again. “can you help me?”

he eagerly nodded and swiftly switched your places. your back now pressed against the aging tree, weakening legs spread apart with a desirous tonowari positioned between your plush thighs. his urgency to pleasure you made your core pulsate more than it already was, ‘wari’s eyes were filled with such hunger that wanted to devour every inch of you.

your loincloth was quickly abandoned to the side, the cold air hitting your sopping pussy made your amber eyes roll back. tonowari gazed up at you through his lashes, keeping eye contact as his experienced tongue began to softly lick your puffy clit. “oh..my god.” you whimpered. the feeling was decadent — soon growing stronger once his kitten licks turned harsh.

tonowari’s began to harshly suck on your sensitive bud, bringing two fingers to your dripping folds and collecting your nectar around his digits. his fingers slid inside you slowly, stretching your tight cunt as he continued to roughly kiss on your swelling clit. “f..fuck, you’re making um’ma feel so good, ‘wari!” you cried, your shorter legs hooked around his broad neck.

as you tangled your fingers into his braids and unapologetically allowed your lewd moans to echo into the depths of the pandora — you were oblivious to the familiar eyes that were watching you from a distance. he didn’t expected to find you so deep within the forest, especially not with his best friends head between your legs.

#tonowari smut #tonowari #tonowari x reader #avatar #avatar smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #atwow #tonowari x you

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witchthewriter · 2 months

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𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑

⤷ gender neutral, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I kinda personified this group of dragons more than I have with the others...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡ��ˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑

・You're actually apart of the royal family, your siblings already having bonded with either eggs from their crib or great beasts already living

・It felt embarrassing being the only one without a mount. It was true that not everyone in your family were dragonriders, but you didn't want to be anything but a dragonrider.

・You had heard stories of untrained dragons and with great bravery or stupidity, you went to find one

・Sheep Stealer and Grey Ghost have always stayed out of each other's ways. Not knowing what kind of dragon the other is (especially when the other wild dragon was a CANNIBAL)

・So neither Sheepstealer nor Grey Ghost stay in the Dragonpit

・With you, Sheepstealer is a lot more soft. It took time to build up that trust and reliance on one another.

・But once he realised that you weren't going to hurt or leave him, then the bond became one of the deepest ever seen

・When you're dreaming, it's as if you're in Sheep's head. Not controlling him, but seeing things from his eyes.

・And you can feel each other's emotions (like all dragon riders and their dragons) but it feels a lot deeper

・His favourite song would absolutely Sweet Carolina by Lana Del Rey. It would actually make him cry.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓

・Doesn't like to share food (not that you'd eat his food? Never once have you tried to either. But every time he's eating, he you're near - he frowns and grunts)

・He was just used to being independent and fighting for his food.

・It took a long time for him to warm up to you. Not liking human interactions

・Knows many, many good secret hide outs... you love hiding in them with him. You aren't a people person either

・Once bit a handler... on the butt. It sounds comedic, but there was blood everywhere and holes in the man's buttcheek.

・Your father had to spend a lot of money for the man to be healed.

・(Grey Ghost wasn't chastised, your father too thought it hilarious)

・No one is allowed near Ghost except for you, I'm talking even existing near him.

・He likes his personal space

・Ghost actually got a bit of colour once you spent more time flying. He turned a beautiful silver instead of a dull grey and had a bit of a glimmer to his scales

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐗

・A pyromaniac; likes to hear the command 'Dracarys' (it's the fastest one he responds to)

・Likes hitting you with his tail and when you turn around to look at him, he's obviously looking somewhere else - but his lil dragon laugh gives him away

・But you got used to it and remember to duck everytime your back is towards him

・Is very competitive, especially against Arrax, who is the closest in age to him

・Crushing on Morning; likes her pretty pink scales. You know this because he rolls in anything pink (especially pink flowers)

・Would love country music unironically.

・Gives Dennis the Menace vibes but he is acutely aware of the trouble he causes. Loves chaos.

・Likes to gently bite your shoulder when your attention isn't on him

・IS afraid of cats. Pretends he's not but once when he was a baby dragon, your pet kitten swiped at him and from then on he was terrified...

・Vermax loves being called a "beautiful boy," "handsome man," etc but DO NOT DO IT IN FRONT OF ANYONE, HE WILL GET EMBARRASSED.

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐗

・Bit shy for a dragon, still courageous and honorable. But prefers to be away from ... everyone

・Does like Tyraxes though; they seem to have similar souls. Some say they could've come from the same clutch of eggs

・Definitely a Libra or Pisces.

・For a long time he was scared of getting into trouble. But you've been working on it ... constantly reminding him he's a goddamn dragon.

・When Arrax is happy, he makes a trilling noise and the red scales/flaps on his neck and head shimmy

・Vermax has made fun of him for it but Moondancer growled at Vermax (therefore he never made fun of him ever again)

・LoVES LAYING HIS HEAD IN YOUR LAP. A very affectionate dragon, loves pets, being brushed down, having his wings gently touched.

・It's safe to say his love language is physical touch

・It took some time for him to be a confident flyer. But once he took off, he never looked back.

𝐓𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒

・A good boi, a very good boi. Does as he's told because his trust in you is unwavering

・When you look into his eyes, they almost seem ... human. They're a beautiful blue/green colour and seem to stare into your very soul

・You realised that at a young age, and swore to treat him exactly how you'd like to be treated

・Has youngest sibling energy (but the kind where the parents have a bunch of older children and for some reason have a baby in their 50s by accident)

・So technically youngest but basically grew up as an only child vibes

・...Loves baths. Like proper baths. You would bathe him as a little dragon. A tradition you and your mother started (because you, yourself hated bathing. So poor Tyraxes was subjected to it as well)

・Now that he's grown ... well ... the blacksmith had heavy pockets and no extra time on his hands for quite a while

・When the bath tub arrived just on the outskirts of the dragonpit, Tyraxes' tail wouldn't stop thumping. He knew exactly what it was for

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

・Aquarius asf

・Always pliant when it comes to be saddled up. Very good girl, you trained her yourself (or you were there for the majority of it)

・From a young age you found yourself talking to her as if she could understand you perfectly well. And now you still do it;

・She gives huffs and chuffs in response, smoke coming out of her nose when she heavily disagrees with something

・Knows about Vermax's crush on her but expects a lot of romantic gestures.

・She's also an Aquarius so they're pretty difficult to shack up with; their independence is highly important to them.

・Like a dog with bad experiences with men, Morning can sense when a person is trustworthy or not

・If they aren't ... SCORCHED. If they are ... UNSCORCHED.

・Literally takes it upon herself to administer justice

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑

・Quite calm in stressful situations

・Definitely more than you - not trying to be shady to you but Moondancer seems to know exactly what to do in like ... every situation?

・Nuzzles you with her nose

・Does adore when you clean her horns, I mean they're PEARLESCENT! (or chrome, however you want to see it)

・Absolutely adores music and will fly you to towns that are having festivals. (She's learned from experience that she can only fly over the top of the crowd and sit from afar...there have been some messy incidents in the past)

・Seems calm but is VERY overprotective of you. Will let you handle arguments until she can feel your heart racing and then she jumps in

・Likes adventure but not dangerous adventure. More so like finding pretty fields or lovely waterfalls.

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Scooby Snacks with your Whiskey | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: One night when you couldn't sleep, you decided to join Daryl in the guard tower and keep him company. During a game of truth or drink, Daryl unknowingly insulted your favourite childhood cartoon, which resulted in playful arguments, accidentally shattered whiskey bottles and confessions.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Prison, post season 3, pre season 4

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, sexual innuendos but nothing major.

Word count: 3.7k

A/n: This is based off of what Daryl told Beth in s4 episode 12 right before they set the cabin on fire. He was talking about a cartoon about a talking dog, and my mind instantly went to Scooby Doo, and so this fic was born. It's not really good, since I'm still trying to get into the writing momentum, but I hope you enjoy!

Also, my requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

—

"Hey. Would you mind some company?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl turned around. He hummed and nodded for you to come closer, to which you complied. You stood beside him in silence, quietly observing the walkers at the fences. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was stealing glances at you, his hands fidgeting with his crossbow string.

His heart fluttered at the sight of you, a regular thing that happened whenever he was in your general area. You looked up at him with that smile that always made butterflies fly around in his stomach and your eyes always seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars in the night sky, and although Daryl liked the quiet away from everyone, you were one of his only exceptions.

Daryl loved hearing you talk. He loved listening to you talk about your life before and although he wouldn't admit it, he was always captivated by the bedtime stories you told little Judith. The way you changed your voice to match the emotion of the part you were telling, even though Judith didn't understand anyway and would react the same regardless, was enchanting to him. He would listen to you talk for hours if he could.

And above all, he loved your caring yet badass nature. The way you would take down walkers with a skilled ease, and then in the same breath turn to him and check him for any injuries with a concerned look on your face made him feel drawn to you. You actually cared about him, in a way nobody ever had. Daryl didn't believe that anything was perfect, but you were the closest thing to perfect there was.

It also didn't help that you were absolutely breathtaking to him. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to your perfectly plump lips that he's wanted to kiss on more occasions than one. Daryl couldn't define how he felt about you because he never felt this way about anyone before, but he knew his feelings for you ran deeper than what could be described as platonic. And that fact scared him.

A soft sigh from you snapped Daryl from his thoughts. He looked over at you and noticed that you seemed to be deep in thought, a small frown on your face as you kept your eyes trailed on the ground below.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Daryl prompted, instantly gaining your attention. Your eyes trailed over to him and his heart skipped a beat at the smile you gave him.

"Just thinking," you responded nonchalantly, shaking your head in dismissal. You pushed away from the railing you were leaning over and turned your body fully to look at Daryl.

Daryl hummed softly, his eyes trailing over you before shifting back to look at the fences. "Ya wanna talk 'bout it?" He questioned.

"It's stupid."

"Ain't stupid if it's botherin' ya," he retorted, turning his body to fully face you as well.

You sighed before shaking your head. "It's just... I'm thinking about my mom. The last thing we did before all of this was fight over something stupid and now..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under the archer's stare.

"Ya think she didn't make it?" He finished for you, giving you a knowing look.

"I know she didn't make it. She was diagnosed with cancer about two weeks before all of this started, and there aren't exactly doctors around who could've helped her," you responded, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers.

"'M sorry to hear tha'. This world jus' ain't meant for people with sicknesses like tha'," Daryl said, and mentally kicked himself for saying that. There you were, confiding in him over something serious and that's the best he could come up with? He felt like a perfect fool.

However, instead of being angry at him, you looked at him with a small smile, much to his surprise. "Yeah," you started. "I just hope that she didn't suffer. She was a good woman."

"Were ya close?" Daryl asked, his blue eyes meeting your beautiful ones. He hoped that he wasn't prying, but he wanted to know more about you, the woman who haunted his thoughts 24/7.

You nodded. "We were."

"Ya make a lot of good memories with her?"

You laughed lightly, surprising the archer. "What is this, 20 questions?"

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"20 questions," you repeated, noting that your repetition didn't spark recognition in the archer's eyes. "It's a game you play with your friends at parties, sleepovers, you name it. You all take turns asking each other any questions you want."

"Never heard of it," Daryl said, shrugging his shoulders. He felt awkward under your intense stare, your eyes widened with surprise.

You softly gasped in surprise. Then, an idea struck you. "Wait here."

"It's my shift," he stated matter-of-factly. "Ain't goin' nowhere until dawn."

"Perfect."

With one last look at Daryl, you climbed down from the guard tower, excitedly rushing into the cellblock and into your cell. You bent down in front of your bed and retrieved what you were looking for; a bottle of whiskey you found on a run. With a renewed excitement, you gripped the bottle tightly and headed back up to the guard tower, finding Daryl waiting patiently.

Daryl glanced at the bottle in your hand and looked at you questioningly. "Where'd ya find tha'?" He asked, watching you approach with a slight smile on his face. He could practically see your excitement, the big smile on your face infectious.

"On a run a couple of weeks ago. I've been waiting for the right moment to open it, and the right moment has now presented itself," you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for Daryl to do the same.

"How so?" He questioned, following your lead by sitting down on the ground in front of you. He kept his eyes trailed on you, watching your every move.

"Well, I was gonna suggest we play 20 questions, but I don't wanna force you into answering a question you don't want to, so we're gonna play truth or drink instead. We ask questions back and forth, and if we don't wanna answer the question that was asked, we drink. It's as simple as that."

"And I dun' got any say in if I wanna play or not?" Daryl asked, a small, teasing smile on his face. His smile turned into something more genuine when you let out a light laugh.

"Nope!" You laughed, opening the bottle and placing it in between the two of you. "You wanna start?"

Daryl hesitated, pursing his lips. "I dun' know wha' to ask."

"Anything. There are no wrong questions," you reassured him, leaning back on the palm of your hands.

"Alrigh'," he drawled, unsure of himself. "Wha' was yer favourite movie before all of this?"

"There you go," you praised him with a smile, making Daryl duck his head as heat flushed his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I watched a lot of movies, so I don't think I can narrow it down to one. But I have a couple of favourites. The Breakfast Club and Back to the Future are two of them."

Daryl nodded, absentmindedly chewing on his thumbnail. "Now 's yer turn, righ'?" He questioned.

"Yeah," you confirmed. After a couple of beats of silence, you voiced your question. "Who was your first kiss?"

Daryl shifted awkwardly, embarrassment filling his body. "I honestly dun' remember her name. It was some girl in a dive bar Merle used to drag me to. She was drunk and I was helpin' her to her car when she turned around and kissed me."

"How old were you?" You asked, genuinely interested. Daryl rarely talked about his past, so when he did, you ingrained every piece of what he said into your mind.

"Nah, 's my turn to ask the questions. Wait yer turn," he joked, eliciting a laugh from you.

"Touché, Dixon, touché. Ask away."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, a habit you noticed he unknowingly did whenever he was thinking. You found it absolutely endearing, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you found most things about the archer endearing. The way he fiddled with his bolts whenever he was bored, the way he flicked his hair out of his face with the shake of his head, his small smile—you could go on a rant about his smile, and you have before. Michonne happened to be the victim who was forced to listen to your lovesick rambling in the car on your way back from the same run you'd gotten the whiskey from.

Begrudgingly snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you patiently waited for Daryl to continue the game. Feeling your stare on him, he asked the first thing that popped to mind, and instantly wished he didn't.

"Who was yer first sex partner?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, heat creeping up your cheeks at a rapid pace. Daryl felt his own face flush, feeling stupid for asking the question.

"Sorry. Ya dun' have to answer tha'," he apologised, his eyes darting to the floor.

"No, it's okay. Like I said, no wrong questions. Besides, if I don't answer, I have to drink," you said, trying to compose yourself. You took a deep breath. Of all the things you thought you'd be doing tonight, you didn't think you'd be discussing who your first intimate partner was with the guy you had feelings for. "My highschool boyfriend, senior year."

Daryl nodded and left it at that. He leaned back on his hands, watching you carefully. He was surprised that you'd actually answered the question, given the personal privacy boundaries he pushed. He silently promised himself that whatever personal question you asked him, he would answer.

"What's the most petty fight you've ever gotten into because of Merle?" you questioned, looking at him expectantly.

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking hard about his answer. "It was with this one guy. He was Merle's dealer. He was a small, janky white guy. We were over at his house one day, jus' loungin' around and watchin' TV, some stupid kids show playin'. It was barely noon, we were all wasted and Merle was high. Merle decided to take a piss outta the show, and when he started, he wouldn't let up. He never could when he was high."

Daryl stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts while your gaze remained fixated on him. You seemed genuinely interested in the story, your eyes sparkling with wonder. Your lips were slightly parted and it took everything in Daryl not to act on his urge to kiss your pretty lips.

"It turns out, the cartoon was the guy's favourite show, and he got hella pissed 'bout it. 'M pretty sure Merle didn't know it was the guy's favourite show. I mean, he never saw the guy except when he needed somethin', but tha' didn't matter. The guy punched Merle in the face, and tha's when I got into the fight. 'M on this guy and 'm punchin' him as hard as I can, but then the guy pulls a gun on me, sticks it righ' against my head and threatens to shoot me."

"Oh, god," you murmured, slightly horrified.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, seemingly unfazed at your reaction. "Tha's when Merle pulls out his gun and points it at the guy. At this point, everyone's yellin', I'm yellin'... I thought I was gonna die tha' day."

"How'd you get out of it?" You asked, bringing your knees up to rest your head on them.

"I didn't. The guy ended up punchin' me in the gut and I puked on the floor. They both started laughin' at me and everythin' was magically over," Daryl said, shaking his head at the memory. "And to think that happened over some dumbass cartoon about a talkin' dog."

You visibly stiffened, and this caught Daryl's attention. "Wha'? Wha's wrong?"

"Talking dog..." You trailed off, your eyebrows furrowing. "Did the dog happen to be a Great Dane? And his owner was this guy in a green shirt and brown pants with messy hair?"

Daryl pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. There were other people, too. Two women and a guy with an ascot."

"Scooby Doo," you stated plainly, giving the archer a playful glare.

"Wha'?" He asked, confusion evident on his face.

"Scooby Doo," you repeated, waving your hand nonchalantly. "That's the cartoon you were talking about. The cartoon you called dumb."

"Yeah, 's 'cus it was. Can't believe anybody actually liked tha' crap."

"Daryl Dixon, how dare you?" You laughed, your eyes widened in surprise. "Scooby Doo is a national treasure! He was part of my childhood and now you're insulting him? I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Daryl chuckled at you, rolling his eyes at your theatrics. "From wha' I saw, the dog and his owner were cowards. Runnin' away, screamin', from fake ghosts after how many years of encounterin' them and knowin' tha' ghosts aren't real but they still think they are? It's stupid as shit, and I ain't apologising for thinkin' tha'."

"You're a disgrace!" You laughed, trying to sound angry but miserably failing. "You're telling me that, real or not, if a ghost was chasing you that you wouldn't run away?"

"Tha's righ'," he nodded, before gesturing to the walkers down at the fence. "I dun' run away from tha' shit, so I sure as hell wouldn't be runnin' away from fake ass ghosts."

"I can't believe you," you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment. "This is the worst betrayal ever. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this. We won't be able to go back to being friends because of this. This is terrible."

"Stop," he laughed quietly, his eyes twinkling with a rare occurrence of merriment. "It ain't tha' deep. I jus' dun' like it."

"Clearly you don't like it because you have bad taste," you retorted playfully.

"Well, I like ya, so do I still have bad taste?"

Silence. It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Any trace of the former reverie between the two of you disappeared and was instead replaced with an invisible current of electricity between you. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden revelation from the man, and your heart sped up in your chest. The logical part of your brain told you that he meant it platonically, that he liked you the way he liked Rick or Glenn, but the optimistic part convinced you that he didn't, that your feelings weren't one-sided. That the archer might like you too.

"Probably," you finally responded, feeling your face ablaze with the heat that spread across it.

"Nah, my taste is immaculate," he replied, looking at you carefully, closely monitoring your reactions. Daryl knew that was a risky response, and he was nervous about your reaction, but he hoped for the best.

You gulped nervously. Daryl's response made your stomach do somersaults and your heart pound at the speed of light.

"Yeah? I still think your taste is shit," you finally managed to respond, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Sometimes you wondered if Daryl knew what effect he had on you. If he knew how many nights dreams of him plagued your mind.

Daryl's chuckle broke the tension between you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"Whatever ya say." Daryl took the bottle from the middle and took the first swig since the game started. Your eyes drifted to the trickle of whiskey that spilt from the bottle and trickled down his lips and chin, and you had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the spill away.

"You don't like Scooby Doo. That automatically means that you have shitty taste," you retorted, your breathing slightly heavier than before.

You leaned forward to take the bottle from him, but he held it out of your reach. You looked at him in confusion but he simply smirked at you, getting up from his position on the ground to stand tall over you.

"Daryl," you warned, laughing as you got up as well. "It's my whiskey. Give it back."

"Nah, I think Imma hold on to it," he said playfully, holding the bottle above his head. He laughed at you when you jumped to try and grab it from his hands.

"Daryl!" You exclaimed with a laugh, trying everything to retrieve the bottle, but to no avail. "Come on, don't be so mean!"

"Ya said I had terrible taste. Well, I like this whiskey, so tha' means it must be terrible as well, since I like it, so ya probably won't like it," he responded playfully, his eyes alight with mischief.

One final jump to grab it proved to be the wrong move. You accidentally slipped when your feet hit the ground, sending you falling onto Daryl. The archer reacted swiftly, dropping the bottle to to catch you with both hands. The bottle shattered on the ground instantly while you and Daryl toppled onto the floor, the force from your fall catching him off guard. Daryl layed flat on his back with you on top of him, his hands still on your waist from when he tried to steady you before you fell.

You looked into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes and felt your heart speed up. Daryl's eyes darted to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes, but you had caught him. In a sudden burst of confidence, you lowered your face and crashed your lips onto his, catching him off guard for the second time that night.

Daryl stiffened for a moment, surprised at the unexpected action from you, but soon relaxed and slowly kissed you back. He brought one of his hands to the back of your head and drew you closer, his lips slowly moving against yours. His other hand hesitantly trailed from your waist to the small of your back, gently moving over the exposed skin from the ride up of your shirt.

The kiss ended too prematurely for your taste, but oxygen was still a necessity. You slowly pulled back, looking into his eyes with surprise and delight. Daryl looked back at you in adoration.

"Wha' was tha' fer?" He whispered breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly.

"Just because," you replied honestly, still baffled at the fact that you had just kissed Daryl, surprised that you had mustered up the courage to do so in a matter of seconds.

"Well, if ya think tha's gonna prove to me tha' my taste is shit, then yer gonna need to try somethin' different. Tha' didn't work. If anythin', it jus' proved to me tha' my taste is amazin'."

You laughed and shook your head. "You talking about me or Scooby Doo?"

Daryl started sitting up, making you slide down his stomach to sit in his lap. "Definitely ya," he responded, wrapping his arms around you.

"So, you like like me, huh, Dixon?" You teased, linking your arms around his neck.

Daryl hummed and gave you a small smirk. "Mhm," he hummed, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Wish I'd known tha' talkin' shit 'bout some cartoon dog would make this happen. Woulda done it a lot sooner."

"Don't you ever talk shit about that dog in my presence ever again," you warned with a playful glare, eliciting a chuckle from the archer.

"Jus' to be sure, this means somethin', righ'?" He asked, his tone turning serious. A look of doubt spread across his face. "This wasn't jus' a heat of the moment thing for ya?"

You shook your head, bringing one of your hands to cup his cheek. "Did you mean it? That you like me? And I don't mean in a platonic way."

"I did," he confirmed, leaning into your touch.

"That's good," you said with a small, shy smile. "Because I like you too. Even if you have crappy taste."

Daryl's eyes filled with relief and he let out a small laugh before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was brief, but it was sweet and tender. When he pulled away, he brought a hand up to push your hair out of your face.

"Never thought this would happen. I thought ya dun' like me like tha'."

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "No more of that. I don't plan on letting you go now that I have you, Daryl Dixon. You're stuck with me."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, 'm stuck." With that, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. He flipped you over so that you were on your back, making you giggle against his lips.

You were definitely thankful for Scooby Doo and that whiskey bottle right now.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #twd

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alloftheimaginesblog · 10 months

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an old friend, a new start {remus lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you're offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

character: remus lupin x female reader

note: this has potential to be multiple parts, if anyone's interested let me know cause i'd like to write more of it xx

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the carriage to look up at the large, looming castle in front of you. Hogwarts. The castle really hadn't changed at all. It was still strikingly beautiful and so intricately built. Dumbledore took a lot of care to maintain Hogwarts and its grounds and it showed. You lifted your trunk off of the ground and made your way through the grounds to the Great Hall.

The last time you were here was fourteen years ago, the day you graduated. How times had changed. When you were last here, you and your friends were carefree and wild, excited to see what life had in store for you. When there had once been six of you, now only half survived. You hadn't spoken to the other surviving members of the Marauders in years, well Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew (and you believed it was also for betraying James and Lily too. You and Remus fell out of contact a year or two after Peter's supposed death and Sirius's imprisonment. Life got in the way and it was too hard. There were too many memories and it was too painful so the two of you lost contact.

You often wondered about Remus. He had been your closest friend once upon a time and at one point, you had been head over heels for him but he never knew that. You would wonder about his life, how he was dealing with his condition, if he ever settled down...

Little did you know you'd be finding out sooner rather than later.

Professor McGonagall welcomed you as you walked into the Great Hall, "Ah, (y/n), dear, how lovely to see you after all these years." She greeted with a warm smile. She remained the same, a few more wrinkles around her warm eyes but she was the same, "Or should I say Professor." She had a twinkle in her eye, "I always did like seeing our students come back to be Professors."

You smiled, "Thank you, Professor," you said gratefully, glad that your first interaction was with a friendly familiar face.

"Oh," she said with a sweep of her hand, "call me Minerva... How does it feel to be back?"

"It feels good to be back actually... A little strange and bittersweet." You told her, looking around, "Their memories haunt me every single day but it's more intense here." Minerva looked around the Great Hall, agreeing, "I remember my first day getting sorted into Gryffindor and sitting beside Lily... She was my first friend here before I met the rest."

Her smile was wide and her eyes were a dazzling bright green colour, clashing yet complimenting her orange hair perfectly, "Here," she said, patting the space on the bench beside her, "sit with me, will you?" You gladly sat beside her as you introduced yourselves to the other, "It's all so exciting isn't it? Overwhelming but it's exciting to be somewhere we all belong."

You shook yourself out of the memory and apologised to Minerva but she tutted and gave you a warm smile, "Don't apologise, dear. Keep those happy memories of them alive, all of them." Even Sirius. Even though he betrayed the Potters' ending up getting them and Peter killed, "Speaking of the past, I do have some potentially upsetting news to tell you. Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban recently," you nodded, you'd read all about it. You'd seen his face plastered everywhere, crazed and wild, "James and Lily's son, Harry, he's a third year at Hogwarts... As you know Sirius is the godfather of Harry Potter and we fear that Sirius may try and come to kill the last surviving member of the Potter family."

You nodded as she explained the precautions Hogwarts was taking, "Dementors from Azkaban will be guarding Hogwarts. My honest advice is to stay out of their way, the scary buggers." You laughed slightly, "Just... Be on your highest guard. I've warned Remus too. You two know Sirius better than anyone."

You frowned, "Remus?" You asked, "He's here?"

Minerva looked at you puzzled, "Yes. Sorry, dear, forgive me, I just assumed the two of you would still be in contact."

"No... We haven't seen each other for about a decade actually. It was too painful. Too many painful memories."

Minerva nodded, "Well I hope that him being here and with Sirius on the loose, it may rekindle your friendship once again. The two of you were always the best of friends." You were. You and Remus did everything together, "I don't usually like to gossip on students but seeing as you graduated fourteen years ago, I always did think the two of you would be good together." She smiled, a twinkle in her eye, as you blushed furiously, "Anyway, he's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Do you want me to show you where your classroom is?"

"Still fifth floor, right?" You asked her to which she nodded, "I think I should be able to find it myself but thank you, Minerva." It would take a while to get used to calling her that, "Once I'm settled, we should catch up some more." Minerva smiled and agreed and then you walked away.

"Professor Lupin's classroom is on the third floor," she called after you. You didn't have to turn around to know that she would be smirking.

Hogwarts was huge with lots of winding staircases that ended up going to different places but it was like muscle memory. Your legs just knew which route to take. Instead of taking the quickest route to your new classroom, you took a bit of a scenic tour, just wanting to soak up everything old and everything new.

The silliest of memories resurfaced as you walked around.

"Look, Moony!" James grinned as Remus approached the two of you, "Padfoot's going to jump down this staircase. He believes he can do it without hurting himself."

Remus looked to you and you just shrugged, "I tried to stop him but it's Sirius, Rem. We'll never be able to control him." (It ended with Sirius spending a night in the hospital).

You turned a corner, finding yourself in front of a painting that you remembered.

You'd just happened across her standing looking at the painting. It was only your second day so you stopped to see if she was okay. "It's crazy," a first year Lily Evans said with a wide smile, "I'm Muggleborn so this is still all quite new to me but it still amazes me that paintings move."

"My dad's a Muggle," you said to Lily, "I kind of had the best of both worlds. I knew about magic but also knew and grew up with a lot of Muggle stuff like Muggle music, I love Muggle music."

"Oh my goodness," Lily grinned, "me too! Who's your favourite?"

"I love The Beatles-"

"No way!" Her smile was contagious, bright and so happy, "Oh (y/n), we're going to be such good friends."

Then you went through a rarely used shortcut through a painting and through a narrow staircase.

Remus coughed, "I suspect this is seldom used given how dusty it is... How did you find out about this secret passageway?"

You laughed, "Rem, I quite genuinely fell through the painting and landed on the stairs. I went up them and they got me to the fourth floor much quicker! Trust the process. Maybe next time we should bring a brush and do a bit of housekeeping?"

After leaving the passageway you wiped your robes down, they had gathered a lot of dust. You wondered whether or not all the other secret passageways and secret rooms you had once hidden in were still accessible and hidden. You'd need to investigate soon. You headed up a spiral staircase and then after a short walk through a hallway, you were standing in front of a classroom which said in large golden painted letters: MUGGLE MUSIC. You smiled and slowly pushed the door open.

"Oh it's brilliant," you said to yourself, clapping with glee after putting your trunk down. It was quite run down, maybe not loved as well as it should've been but getting it back up and running shouldn't be too much of a challenge. You wandered around the classroom, a fresh lick of paint on the walls, some newer instruments and maybe some plants and the classroom would look a lot better. The instruments you had were in relatively good condition but luckily for you, you had plenty of instruments in much better condition in your trunk.

"I learned a new charm!" Sirius grinned, "Check this out." He swung his bag off of his shoulder and began pulling out various textbooks and things alike.

Peter glanced at you, "What's the charm?" He asked sheepishly, "So far you've just made a mess."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Use your head, Wormtail! Look at the size of my bag and look at the amount of books I just pulled out! That's not all-" he stopped talking and then pulled out, "made sure to pack my handy dandy hat stand."

"You stole a bloody hat stand?!" Remus hissed but even he couldn't hide the smile from his face, "Where's it from?"

Sirius winked, "Just borrowing it, Moony... from Slughorn's office. Anyway... who wants to learn the charm?"

That charm was your second favourite thing you learned at Hogwarts, the first was the charm that Lily taught you afterwards to keep your luggage or bag or whatever you were carrying light, never weighing more than a pound. You lay your trunk on one of the tables, opening it taking out the various instruments you'd carefully packed away. You put them in the instruments cupboard, you'd sort it another day, but just now you wanted to go to your room.

Your office was in the room adjacent to the classroom and then in the room attached to that was your living area. A small bedroom complete with a double bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and then attached was a small kitchen and a bathroom. Your living space was small but more than enough. Your office was a desk, a chair and a few potted plants. There was a bookshelf with various books, a couch and a couple of tables and empty units. You would put your personal record player in here and also have one in the classroom but you would unpack your personal belongings soon. You sat on the bed as you looked around. You could hardly believe that this was your life now, that you were here once again... not only could you not believe that you were here again but so was Remus.

Remus.

You sat upright. He was already here, you knew he'd be in his classroom unpacking and getting ready for the term ahead. A bubble of nervousness suddenly appeared in your stomach as you stood and looked in the mirror that was on the wall. You looked tired but that was to be expected after a five hour journey. You smoothed out your hair and robes before leaving your classroom.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was on the third floor, you remembered exactly what it had once looked like. It was one of your favourite classes when you were a student, it was just fun learning new things and getting to practice magic.

It was then that you noticed someone familiar walking towards you. Inwardly you groaned but you plastered a smile on your face, "Fancy meeting you here, Severus."

Snape sneered at you, "(y/n)... How delightful." He had aged horribly. The same greasy hair, the same large pointed nose, the same dark beady eyes and the same scowl. It seemed he permanently scowled judging by the wrinkles on his forehead. In school, Snape was awful. He was rude, judgemental, bigoted and a bully. And yes, you would then agree that James and Sirius bullied him too but Severus had called his old best friend, Lily Evans, a mudblood and then acted as though he hated her whilst still pining over her. You just didn't like him and Snape, well, Snape didn't like anybody, "I just ran into the werewolf. Already asking me to concoct potions for his... time of the month." Always a cheap shot to make a joke about Remus's time of the month. It was Sirius's favourite thing to do once upon a time.

You nodded, "That's good of you to do that for him. I'm sure he appreciates it."

Snape looked at you displeased, "Obviously."

"Okay, great seeing you, Sev," you said quickly, needing away from him, "let's catch up soon?"

Snape scoffed, "No thank you."

"Ah," you said, patting his shoulder as you moved past him, "you've not changed at all, Sev. Always a pleasure!" Snape looked pissed off as you scampered past him but let's face it, he always looked pissed. You shuddered as you walked away. Fourteen years later and he still creeped you out.

You could hear chatter approaching and you realised that it was the students returning from their summer holidays, coming back to school. You straightened your robes one final time as you walked down the staircase to meet handfuls of older students who were walking up the stairs. You greeted them happily and most of them gave you at least a smile back. As you continued down the steps you saw-

"James?"

Your heart was in your throat, beating hard, as your stomach dropped. You stopped in the middle of the staircase as a young boy, third or fourth year, walked towards you. At the mention of his father's name, his head snapped to you. It was like looking through a window into the past. His hair was just as dark and just as messy. His grin was just as cheeky. He wore the same full moon glasses but his eyes... those were Lily Evans's eyes. You caught a glimpse of the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Sorry, Harry, right?" You asked forcing yourself to smile, "I'm sorry, you just look so much like your father but-"

"I have my mother's eyes," Harry said with a nod and a smile, "Did you know them Professor...?"

"Oh (y/n). (y/n) (y/l/n). I'm the new Muggle Music Professor," you introduced yourself to him and his two, what you assumed to be, friends, "I was really good friends with your mother and father actually."

Harry's eyes lit up. All that poor boy wanted was to know about his parents, "You were? Professor do you think you could tell me about them?"

You stepped aside to let some other students pass, "Of course. Any time at all. My class is on the fifth floor, feel free to drop by whenever. How about we get settled in today and later this week you could come by? Bring your friends too if you wish," you gave a polite smile to Ron and Hermione, "Professor Lupin was also good friends with your parents, that's where I'm off to just now. To say hello to an old friend." Old friends and new starts.

The girl stuck out her hand which you shook gladly, "Hermione. Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley."

The red haired boy rolled his eyes, "No one calls me Ronald, it's Ron, Hermione."

"All of us are taking Muggle Music actually so we'll be in your class." Hermione told you ignoring Ron.

"Yeah after you forced us to take your boring class-" Ron stopped realising that he was insulting your subject to your face, "I'm sorry, I'm sure it's not boring-" His cheeks turned bright pink, as did the tips of his ears.

You laughed, "That's alright. I assume it probably was boring but that'll change now that I'm here, I assure you, Ron. Anyway, I best let you three go to your Common Room and settle in. Come see me whenever you wish, all of you."

"Professor?" Harry said as you went to walk away, "You said Professor Lupin was a friend of my parents?" You nodded, explaining that you'd all been best friends at their age, "Do you think he would come too and tell me about my parents?"

You smiled, "I think that he'd love that, Harry. I'll say to him and we'll arrange something, alright?" You nodded at them once more before disappearing down the stairs and along the corridor. You hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby and goodness he was James's double just with Lily's eyes. Lily's lovely kind eyes. They'd be so proud. You had been so preoccupied you hadn't realised your feet had already taken you to the DADA classroom until you had stopped outside it and there he was. He was unpacking a box of trinkets onto his desk.

"Rem," you said quietly but his keen ears heard your voice and he stopped.

He raised his head and a wide smile grew on his face, "(y/n)," he said back, just as soft, "What are you doing here?"

"Gone and got myself a job. I'm the new Muggle Music Professor." Remus smiled. He knew about your love for Muggle music. It was something the two of you bonded over since Remus's mother was a Muggle too.

All the nerves you'd had about seeing him again vanished as he welcomed you into his arms. You forgot how tall he was, how he still towered over you. Your head was on his chest as you breathed deeply. He smelled the same; coffee and chocolate. A scent that was so comforting to you, so warm and friendly; he smelled like home. You liked that no matter how much time passed, he was still the same dorky Remus you once knew.

He pulled back, holding you at arms length to drink you in, "You look incredible."

You grinned, thanking him as your cheeks burned furiously. Life had not been kind to him, you could tell from the tattered clothes and the beaten up trunk in the corner. He looked in dire need of a sleep but he was still handsome, a little wearier and gaunt with a few extra wrinkles but those warm, honey brown eyes were the same. His scars were more silvery now, like his hair which was still light brown but had greys scattered amongst. He was still as handsome as you remembered but your heart panged knowing that life hadn't been as kind to him.

"So do you," you said with a smile.

Remus rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush," he laughed, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Uh, yeah, good... Yeah. You?" Now it was time for the awkwardness to come.

Remus shrugged, "Can't complain now that I'm here."

"I met Snape," you told him after a moment of pregnant pause. You recounted the whole encounter, making Remus laugh loudly at how you ended the conversation.

"Bet he's gone off to dip his cloaks in detergent now that you've touched him."

"Still won't wash his hair though, will he?" You teased making Remus laugh again. That booming loud laughter that you loved to hear when you were sixteen.

When the laughter died down, you said, "Have you seen him yet? Harry, I mean." You sat on one of the tables and Remus sat on the one across from you.

He nodded, "Uncanny, isn't it?"

"I called him James. It was like looking into the past but with-"

"Lily's eyes."

You smiled, "They'd be so proud, wouldn't they?"

Remus sighed fondly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Oh you know that wherever they are Prongs is bragging all about their Chosen One of a son." You laughed and Remus's smile grew upon hearing your laughter. He'd missed hearing that sound.

"I missed you," he murmured, "I apologise for not being a very good friend."

You shook your head, "I'm sorry too... It was just too painful, Rem. It hurt to see you after... after losing everyone else, after Sirius." Remus nodded, "It still hurts even twelve years later. To see you was to not see them; a constant reminder that they're gone and that we're still here..."

"Survivor's guilt," Remus spoke quietly, "I'd went to therapy when I could afford it... That's what she called it." The two of you were silent for a while before he spoke, "And apparently Sirius is back to kill the last of the Potters'..."

"What happened?" You sighed, "How could he?"

Remus shook his head, "I've been asking myself that since it happened."

You sat up straighter, nudging his knee with your foot, "When I ran into Harry I'd told him that I was close with his parents, said that you were too... He's asked if we could both sit with him and tell him about his parents. The poor boy just wants to know who they were. Would you?"

"Course," Remus said, "Just let me know when and where."

You looked around the classroom. It was still pretty much the same as you remembered it to be just with added decoration on the ceiling, "It's not changed much," your voice was quiet, "it's nice to be back."

Remus stood and extended his hand to you, "Would you like to go do some exploring?"

You took his hand as you grinned, jumping down from the desk, "Oh, I'd love nothing more. Lead the way, Moony!"

And all of a sudden the two of you were sixteen again running around the corridors of Hogwarts keeping your friends in line.

"You're my best friend," Remus said, words slurred from the firewhisky. You were all laying on the floor in the Room of Requirement. James and Sirius were snoring loudly, Peter was hiccupping in a corner and you and Rem were on the floor facing each other, "I fancy you but you're my best friend first and forever." You giggled as he continued, "Don't ever leave me, I'd miss you too much, (y/n)."

As you walked with him, with the memory repeating in your mind, you couldn't help but latch onto his arm, head on his shoulder. His cheeks tinged pink as you did this so casually. Maybe things hadn't changed that much. Maybe things would be like how they once were. "I missed you, Remus... I think good things are in store for us both this year."

Oh please be right.

#one shot #os #reader #reader insert #hp #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #prompt #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #imagine #moony #hogwarts #sirius black #lily evans #james potter

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