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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

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Anything II (König x Reader)

The 2nd instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: As requested by literally fucking everyone.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic language || graphic description of PTSD episode || graphic description of unintentional self-inflicted injury

You had thrown up. Twice.

Pressure snaked its way from your chest to your throat and nausea gripped your stomach. You felt deeply unsettled. Your fingers shook, your face was gaunt- you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were a mess.

All because of him.

You cussed beneath your breath, bouncing on your toes lightly. You were due for another training session and considering you’d bailed on the last one, you couldn’t afford to skip it again. You’d received an earful from Price for walking out after your conversation with König.

That fucker had reported back to the Captain that you’d simply ‘discussed the terms of the agreement.’

You slapped your thighs. Then, you hit them harder. The sharp pain jolted your system, and you used the distraction to force yourself out the door. The more you dwelled on it, the more you needed to vomit again.

This time, König was waiting for you.

He sat on the bench, legs spread and his head down. He was fidgeting with his gloves and, had you not known any better, you’d have thought that maybe you’d snuck up on him. But you did know better. König was aware of your presence the second you entered the hallway.

You sucked in a breath as he finally looked up, pretending that he’d only just noticed you. His features were obscured by his hood, giving you no indication of his reaction. He felt inhuman, there was no tug of his lips or twitch in his cheek- only an emerald gaze that stripped you of your courage.

“Birdy,” König tipped his head in greeting, your name soft on his lips. Your chest tightened at the sound of his voice. You hated when he spoke like that, low and from his chest. You wished he would yell, you wished he would be boisterous— anything to drown his promises of death in your ear.

“Your fight is finished.”

You didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t say his name. Instead, you slowly entered the room and moved to the farthest side from him. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs and the nausea you’d felt earlier was back in full swing.

“The sooner we start, the sooner you can leave,” König reminded you, flicking his gaze across your attire.

“Then start,” you snapped. The man blinked at your aggression and his fidgeting fingers fell still. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. That emerald gaze was pinned to your figure, steady and inquisitive and terrifying. He straightened up from where he was slouched over, his seated form already taller than you standing.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable with this arrangement?” König spoke slowly, each word enunciated with careful control over his tone. Your heart dropped to your stomach, he was getting frustrated.

You wanted to spit at him that the only way you’d ever be comfortable was if he were to leave. You wanted to shout at him to fuck right off back to KorTac and never show his face again; that’s what would ease your mind.

But, as he held his body deathly still, that stare trained on yours- you reminded yourself of what he was capable of.

“The mask,” you whispered, cursing yourself for the way your voice shook.

König finally moved, leaning back into the bench as he took in a long breath. He waited for you to continue, to pitch your proposition, but your mouth had gone dry and your tongue had fallen limp. When he realized that you weren’t going to offer anything more, he nodded his head, clasping his hands together tightly.

“You want me to…” König bounced his leg, clearing his throat as he sat up straight. “You want me to take it off?”

You nodded your head. König said nothing. The sinking feeling that he just might reject your request began to worry you. He could say no and there would be nothing you could do to argue that, you were still required by order to do these training sessions regardless of whether he agreed to your requests or not.

You swallowed thickly, scrubbing your nose to break the eye contact between you both. You couldn't stand it.

"I can't do this if you're wearing that thing," you waved vaguely at his face, keeping your eyes low. "It- I just-"

Frustration burned in your chest as you flailed to articulate your feelings. You couldn't tell him outright that his stupid fucking mask plagued your dreams every night. You couldn't tell him about the terror that gripped you by the throat whenever you laid eyes on it.

König didn't let you finish, anyway. He reached for his hood, swiftly pulling it from his head and, again, you were thrown off kilter by his appearance.

His brows were furrowed as he observed you from beneath his lashes. "I know."

He knew what you were trying to say.

"Shall we start?" He asked, slowly standing to his feet. And, despite it being painfully obvious that he was keeping his body language open, you still took an inadvertent step back. You cursed beneath your breath when he straightened up to his full height, the urge to run from the room was almost overwhelming. König triggered your fight or flight response and your body was a slave to its survival instincts.

You sucked in a breath, forcing yourself to stay still as he approached.

"What are we doing?" You forced the question from your throat, trying to distract yourself from the hulking figure moving closer.

"Ground defence."

Your heart seized in your chest.

"I don't want to do this," you said as calmly as you could. Your pulse climbed rapidly as König's gaze softened.

"I know," he murmured. "But neither of us has a choice."

You didn't give a fuck about him or his choices. You couldn't care less whether he was here of his own volition or if he'd been ordered to take care of your training; you only cared about the fact that he was twice your size and had nearly murdered you once before.

You couldn't believe that Price was allowing this.

Betrayal stung in your chest.

Actually, what you really couldn't believe was how this cunt was even allowed to be here.

Clearly, you were dispensable.

Maybe you had overestimated your importance to the team, maybe you had misunderstood the bond between you all. You'd been replaced by your own aggressor and Price had allowed it.

Clearly, you hadn't meant as much as you thought to the 141.

“Birdy.”

You jumped, tripping backward into the bench behind you. You stared wide-eyed at König who was equally as startled by your reaction.

“What?”You snapped, straightening up as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t almost frightened you out of your skin.

He hesitated before continuing, the side eye he shot you was clearly one of concern. Disgusting. “I need you to lie on your stomach.”

“No.” The word fell from your mouth before you’d even realized it.

König raised a single brow. “You want this to happen again?”

He gestured at your swollen cheeks, the fresh scarring from your stitches that littered your face. The man referenced you like an artist would show off their masterpiece.

“Only to you,” you said, your voice sickly sweet as you forced a bitter smile to your lips. The fluid in your cheeks felt like liquid fire beneath your skin at the movement, but the way his expression fell made the pain worth it.

“Then get on the floor so I can teach you how,” König crossed his arms, carefully schooling his features to give away nothing- but it was too late. You saw that you’d hurt him with the comment, or at least affected him enough to feel satisfied.

Your small victory gave you enough courage to lie down.

Your logic reminded you to immediately regret it.

Konig’s knee came into your vision as he knelt by your prone body. You couldn’t see his upper body, you couldn’t see where his hands were. He made no noise to indicate what he was going to do and your spine seized along our back.

You didn’t want to do this.

Not again.

“König,” you rasped, pressing your hands into the floor. “König, I don’t want to do this.”

Your breath was too fast, you felt like you were channelling air in through your mouth just to be sent right back out. It was as though you were rapidly suffocating, not getting any oxygen to fill your lungs, the room spinning from where you lay.

“Birdy, you need this,” König reminded you from above. The words sounded distant and muffled like someone had placed their hands over your ears and spoken softly.

You gasped loudly as the man behind you straddled your back, the mass of his body resting against the lower half of your extremely fragile spine. You wanted to buck and kick and scream until he was forced off of you but your mouth was dry and words evaded you.

“I want to teach you how to spin onto your back first,” König said, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You can’t win from your stomach.”

You couldn’t win on your back either.

“No,” you said firmly, twisting experimentally from beneath him. “No, get off. I’m not doing this.”

There was a sharp sigh from behind you and instead of moving from his position, König began applying pressure. Your chest sunk into the ground as he leant just a fraction of his weight onto your body.

“Then get me off.”

The floor was hard against your body, it felt like your ribs were collapsing from beneath you. You could barely breathe as it was and now you were gasping like a fish out of water. There were so many things he could do to you from this position, so many ways he could torture you and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

You tried to press upwards with your hands in an attempt to relieve the pressure from your chest. It was fruitless considering the 130 kilograms of muscle pressing your face into the floor, but you tried again. Then again.

You were beginning to sweat, your palms slipping on the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion and you could feel your resolve slipping, your control spiralling from your grasp.

“Get the fuck off me,” you wheezed, that same ugly pressure clawing its way up your ribs and into your throat. “König, I’m serious. Get off.”

“Listen to me and I’ll teach you how to get out of this yourself,” König’s voice was firm. There was no room to argue, the bite in his tone enough to put the fear of God into you. “Pull your knee up beside you, slide forward to get up onto your knees and roll me off to the side.”

You followed his instruction, forcing yourself to breathe as evenly as you could. Your skin burned where he touched, your body screaming at his presence atop of you.

Get him off, off, off.

The weight of his body eased as he let you perform the maneuver. He was too heavy and you were too tired to pull that move off without his help, but you didn’t care anymore. You’d do anything for him to get the fuck away from you, you’d do anything for him to never touch you again.

Konig rested his weight back down, straddling your hips as you lay on your back now, facing upward.

The exact same position of that night.

Your breathing picked up and your hands began to tremble. The sensation of excess adrenaline flooding your body, a feeling that you were familiar with, rendering you shaking but incapacitated.

The hood was on his face again and his eyes were wild and manic. You’d never seen that look in a mans eyes before, you knew then that he was going to kill you. The emerald glint of his psychotic glare was all that you could see. It was so dark and he was so fast, you weren’t able to predict his moves because you couldn’t fucking see them. He was a shadow, he was death incarnate. Your body was on fire, your lungs screaming from within your chest.

The monster’s eyes drifted to your chest and you followed his gaze. The handle of a knife jutted from above your breast bone and you snap your eyes back to his. Blood sprayed in the space between the both of you as he twisted the knife in your chest. You’d forgotten the noise that it had made, your punctured lung sucking air from the bloody wound with a wet gasp.

König’s eyes were hard as he reached for your face, fingers outstretched and closing in across your vision.

Not again.

“Birdy!”

You bucked, you heaved, you fought off his grip. You knew what was going to happen, you knew what came next. This time, your brain matter would be smeared across the floor, this time he would finish you off.

You clawed at the fingers wrapped across your face desperately, trying to draw enough blood for him to flinch away. You ripped at his skin as hard as you could manage, screaming against his palm.

“Birdy, stop!”

Nothing was working, nothing could stop him. You dragged your nails across his fingers, driving them into the divots of his cuticles in an attempt to deglove his skin from bone.

“Jesus Christ, get a fucking sedative!”

When König smashed your head into the concrete, you were grateful for the darkness that ensued.

You didn’t have that privilege last time.

____

The first sense you regained was smell.

And, by God, did you fucking hate that smell.

The scent of disinfectant flooded your olfactory system so viciously that you were forced up in your seat. You scrubbed at your eyes desperately, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that you weren’t where you thought you were.

White lights flooded your vision and you cringed back into the cushions, pressing your palms into your eyes.

“Easy, Birdy. Easy.”

That familiar cockney accent served as a warning. Gloved hands tugged your fists down from your face and you tried to regain control of your breathing, eyes squeezed shut.

“Ghost?” You rasped. Your voice was barely a squeak, and you realized with a frown that you’d lost it somehow.

“Thought I’d come pay you a visit.”

You slowly attempted to regain your sight, blinking away the blurriness and the harshness of the down lights. You gingerly observed your surroundings, heart sinking to your stomach as you recognised the room.

You’d been on this bed for weeks during your recovery from the incident.

Same hospital, same room, same bed.

You felt nauseas.

Swallowing the bile threatening to make an appearance, you dragged your gaze to the seat by your bed. Ghost sat so still you could have mistaken him for a piece of furniture had you not been actively looking for him.

The man watched you carefully, his hoodie raised over his head and the balaclava perched firmly over the lower half of his features.

“When did you get back?” You asked, cringing at the broken sound of your voice. Ghost exhaled through his nose and his eyes softened under your scrutiny, an expression you’d never seen before flickering across his gaze. You were disoriented, still unsure of how he had gotten there or what you were doing there.

“Yesterday.”

You froze, eyes widening as Ghost waited for you to come to the realization.

“How long have I been in here?” You cried, the words gutted by your vocal fatigue. “What the fuck happened?”

“You need to take a breath,” Ghost leaned forward, his hand pressing lightly against your shoulder, prompting you to lay back into the cushions.

“No, you need to tell me what happened, Simon,” you reinforced, throwing a hand to your chest. You pressed against the skin, as though you could force your lungs to slow down with just a touch.

Ghost made a noise from the back of his throat, strangled and uncomfortable. You could tell that he hadn’t expected you to wake up while he was there.

“You…” And for the first time in nearly a decade, you heard Simon Riley hesitate.

Your mouth was dry as you realised the severity of what had happened, the anxiety of not knowing what you’d done ripping at your chest. Your eyes were pleading now, begging him to just come out with it, to tell you the truth.

That stormy gaze was sympathetic. It made you tremble.

“You had an incident, Birdy.” Ghost said slowly, deliberating over his words carefully. “An episode.”

“An episode?” You questioned, narrowing your gaze. “The fuck do you mean an episode?”

Ghost didn’t shift in his seat the way König did when under pressure, he didn’t fidget or bounce his leg. Simon Riley sat still like a cold-blooded creature, watching you from the darkest corner of the room with a cool, steady gaze.

“PTSD, Birdy.”

You blinked slowly.

“During your ‘training’ with that cunt,” Ghost spat the words, his eyes shifting to the side as he centred himself. “We heard your screaming as we were on the way back in.”

“We?’ You rasped, dread settling in your stomach.

“Me and Johnny,” Ghost clarified. He exhaled softly, shaking his head. “You had to be sedated, kid.”

The skin on your cheek stung sharply before you could process that bombshell. You frowned, attempting to ignore it in favour of uncovering what had happened. Ghost was never one to beat around the bush, always outright and as ‘blunt as a cunt’, in Soap’s words.

So, why was he now omitting a key part of the story?

The skin beneath your eyes stung again, this time demanding your attention. You began to sweat at the sudden severity of the pain, hands flying to your face to diagnose the issue.

Ghost moved before you could blink, striking out like a cobra. His hands gripped your wrists, keeping them from scouring over the skin. Your eyes were wide as you appraised him, bent over your bed, your hands suspended in his grip between the both of you.

Your eyes narrowed. He mimicked the expression.

You shoved at his body, ripping your hands from his hold. You needed to get to a mirror. Throwing yourself off the side of the bed, you gasped as your knees buckled from their sudden use. Simon gripped your bicep, pulling you upright with ease, but you tugged against him immediately.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He retracted his hand as though he’d been burned.

You stormed into the bathroom, the door smashing against the rubber stop glued to the wall. The lights flickered to life as you bashed the switch with the bottom of your closed fist.

You could have thrown up.

Gauze pads covered both your cheeks, stained pink from what you realized was blood. Your face was bleeding. A whimper fell from your lips as you reached for the dressing, peeling it slowly from your skin. Your mouth fell open at the slow reveal of what hid beneath the gauze.

A strangled cry ripped from your throat.

Claw marks.

Jagged, deep wounds, tearing down the length of your face; raw, bleeding and fresh.

You couldn’t breathe.

Distantly, you could see Ghost standing behind you in the mirror, his gaze solemn and his hands clenched. You couldn’t ask the question, couldn’t form the words but you didn’t have to. Simon had understood you back when you were eating from a straw, your eyes so puffy you couldn’t open them for days.

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the only comfort he could offer as you stared at your mangled reflection, yet again.

“You were screaming for him to get off,” Ghost began, his fingers tightening against your burning skin. “The fucker was standing next to me.”

Blood dribbled down the distinct lines engraved into your flesh, tracing the length of your throat and disappearing down your hospital gown. The both of you watched it trail your prickled skin, but you couldn’t move, suspended in time and trapped with the image before you.

Simon’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.

“You thought his hands were on your face.”

_____

NEXT CHAPTER

____

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feyascorner · 5 months

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3 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”

You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.

You wonder if it’s a genuine one.

“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”

“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”

You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”

He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”

“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”

“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”

You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”

“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”

You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”

“Explains itself then, I suppose.”

“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”

“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”

“I’m on guard,” you clarify.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.

“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do what?”

“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.

“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”

You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.

“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.

Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.

“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”

You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”

You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.

“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”

You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.

You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.

Gods, you're hopeless.

The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”

“How long do we need to keep him?”

Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”

You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.

The bastard is smiling.

“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”

“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”

Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”

You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.

“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.

“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”

Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”

And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”

Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”

“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”

“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”

“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”

His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”

At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.

You curse the gods above for your luck.

The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”

“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.

You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.

“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”

“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.

“It’s only right to return the favor."

Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.

“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”

It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.

“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.

You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.

The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”

The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.

“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”

She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.

Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.

“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.

“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”

“No drinking. From anyone here.”

You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”

“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”

“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”

“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”

Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”

You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?

You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.

By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud.

You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes.

As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.

So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”

“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”

You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”

“Me?”

“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”

The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”

Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.

Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."

Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”

And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.

When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.

There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.

You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.

You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.

You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.

You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs.

“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”

You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”

“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”

You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.

He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”

You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”

“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…

It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.

“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”

The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.

“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.

“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”

You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”

But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.

It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.

“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.

He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”

“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”

What a poor, wishful lie.

“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”

You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.

And that damned nickname.

It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.

“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”

Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”

“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."

You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”

“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”

The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”

His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.

His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”

You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.

“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”

For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”

He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.

“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”

And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.

"I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"

He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."

He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.

"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.

And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.

"I'll be right here."

Tags:@ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3 #angst with a happy ending #angst #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart

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ristoranteivorykeys · 6 months

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twst mermay 13 — teeth

headcanons about how the octavinelle trio will bite you and their reaction to you biting them :3c

ft. azul ashengrotto, jade leech, and floyd leech

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: some steaminess; yes i intend to somehow finish everything in the mermay masterlist no matter what time of the year it is, octatrio is still my love

╰┈➤ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨: mermay masterlist

Among the trio, Floyd is the first to leave hickeys on his lover. In fact, it's already in your first intense kisses when he starts leaving your lips for your neck.

Floyd's already known how fragile human skin can be against his teeth. He's bitten Jade's arm in a sibling squabble before on land, and he noticed how much easier it was to penetrate human skin than merfolk eel skin.

Still, the first time he left hickeys on you, he was careless enough that he heard a yelp from you and when he looked up, his bite mark was a vibrant red. Needless to say, some wounds had to be dressed that night.

But it more than satisfies a deep carnal desire when he sees that your skin is marked with that red dotted curve—the marks of his teeth on your skin. It's not only an arousal, but it means a lot to him. As a moray eel, waiting is something he values because waiting will give him the best results: waiting for the right time to strike prey, waiting for his part of the plan to come up and see the big picture come together... waiting for the right person to be his lover. And once he's with that right person, can he be faulted for spoiling you with all he has?

When he sees you outside the bedroom, it arouses him when he imagines the hickeys left on your skin. It arouses him further when it's exposed for the world to see. Sometimes, Floyd may expose your hickeys, whether by tugging on the collar of your uniform or by casually dropping it in conversation. If it is something you're uncomfortable with, Floyd is still a team player with people that he cares about—he'll be all ears to you expressing your discomfort.

Now if you're the one biting Floyd, it will really make him ecstatic. His head would be hazy from the pleasure your teeth give him and the amusement that he's getting from being the one on the receiving end. While he is by no means as strict about equivalent exchange as Azul, he still abides by that to some degree. It would make him happy to be marked just like you are.

He isn't picky about where he'd be bitten. He's not sensitive in a particular area, as long as you bite him hard enough to get him groaning. He doesn't care either about his marks being seen. In fact, once he receives your love bites, Floyd would walk around with obvious marks. It exasperates Azul, but he doesn't care. He loves the hickeys that you give him, and he isn't hesitant to expose them.

When you're in the first few months of the relationship, things are actually relatively tame and sweet. The most that you get is the occasional makeout session, but often Jade cuts them short, whether it is due to Mostro Lounge shifts, schoolwork, or other things.

It's not because he doesn't want to put in effort into the relationship. Jade just does not flash his teeth until he's ready to. He needs time to really get to bond with you and see that you're someone that he can trust before truly letting himself go with you.

And once he finds you trustworthy and appealing to be with, you will get to know that in the form of a sharp pain as he digs his teeth into the base of your neck.

Actually, his first hickey would be somewhat unintentional—he was just so lost in the moment and so lost in you that he opened his mouth and wanted even more of you than just your kisses. Once realization dawns upon him, he would be shocked.

After that first hickey, you better expect more hickeys, and it will go from the areas where no one will definitely see, like your inner thighs, to areas that can be exposed with one wrong movement of your clothes, like your neck.

Jade would tease the hell out of you with those near exposed love bites. You would be talking to your friends, and he passes by you, with a hand on your shoulder. "Hello my pretty rosebud, how are you this fine day? Ah, there's a bit of dust on your collar, I just want to..." And he would move your collar in a way that it would expose your love bite if one looks at the right moment. Any reaction will amuse Jade, whether you panic outwardly, stiffen, or keep yourself together surprisingly and give him a glare when no one else is looking, because at this point, he just likes to learn about all your little ticks and quirks.

If it takes a while for Jade to bite you, expect it to take longer for him to let you bite him. Trust builds slowly, and Jade would rather be marked by someone who will stick around for a long time than for a mere 2 years or less.

But once he allows you to bite him? Oh, you better bite hard because Jade will taunt you if you can't leave marks on his skin. "Oh, is this the best you can do? I was hoping you of all people would not be so shy with me."

Bite him on the inner thighs, and Jade will shut up as he muffles a moan. He may stifle his sounds, but he cannot stop the way his body trembles when you suck on that particular wound you leave in his thigh.

It would really get him if you pull the same teasing thing with him. Jade would really try to be one step ahead of you of course, but when you not only persist but also manage to get him when he least expects it... Jade's going to be so overjoyed, having such a fun partner by his side for the rest of his life.

Azul has two kinds of love bites.

The first kind is the one that is often littered along your chest and base of your neck. Azul bites hard enough to elicit moans out of you and leave little marks on your skin, but it's soft and quick enough that they will heal a few hours after your canoodling. They are fleeting like the glow of a contract that has been torn, but they are still a reminder that there is something between you two. It's a nice balance of spice and class that Azul can seamlessly do.

These love bites are the ones you only see in the first few months or even the first year of your relationship with Azul. For him, it's because there's that part of him that's expecting that this will not last. It's Azul's silent way of bracing himself for any losses he might incur if things go wrong.

It's understandable to feel just a bit disappointed about it, and one might even misinterpret it as him not loving you enough. But just know that on the contrary, Azul does care about you. It's his own way of keeping things stable between you and him because he wants this relationship to last. Already choosing you to be his lover is a huge choice for him, and he wants to make sure that it's the right choice.

The second kind of love bite happens when Azul is very emotional to the point he has a hard time controlling himself. These are the bites where his fangs will come out and mark you much deeper. Azul will take much more time with each bite, eliciting more moans out of you, and he will suck on the skin even more, creating deep marks that will last for days.

These are the bites that will either get him huskily whispering in your ear that you are his, or him in tears saying that he loves you and wishes to care for you from now on. These are the bites that let you know that he is placing his trust in you and expressing how much he wants to stay by your side.

At first, Azul is very careful about your love bites being exposed. It's part of why his first love bites heal fast. He is conscious of your image to your classmates, and he is conscious of his own. He would rather not be thought of as obscene, and he doesn't want you to be caught in any gossip either.

However, when you get closer, Azul gets cheeky. You would be talking with friends or walking along a crowded hallway, and Azul would approach you with an arm around your shoulders. He'd be asking you about your day and what your assignments are, and before you realize it, he'd have one finger hooked on your collar, exposing to the world a tease of a red mark on your neck. If you stiffen or panic in response, Azul would ask in mock concern if you're okay as he hides a shit-eating grin.

Azul is also possessive. If another person approaches you with romantic interests, he will wrap one arm around your waist as he pulls on your collar, exposing his marks on you: "I'm sorry, I hope I did not mishear you saying that you were asking out my love to a date."

He does want you to bite him back. Half of it is to satisfy the equivalent exchange he so values. The other half is just that he likes it, plain and simple. He respects it if you aren't into it, though, just as long as you show your love for him in other ways.

But when you do bite him, he often puts a hand over his mouth because he moans loud while he holds you really close to him. He's particularly sensitive around the neck area, where even the small bites will leave him gasping. He really values it though if you leave deep bites around areas that are easy to cover up, like the chest, and shallow bites around areas that are harder to cover up.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst hc #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 11 days

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13: NEW BEGINNINGS

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky are finally able to admit your feelings to each other.

Word count 3.4k

Warnings: confessions of love, Sam being the best wingman (pun intended)

It had been a long and difficult week, filled with painful rehab sessions and slow progress. But finally, you were starting to feel more like yourself again. Your voice was still weak from disuse, but you were delighted to hear that the doctors were ready to remove your tracheostomy tube. It was a small victory, but it meant that you were one step closer to recovery.

Despite the progress, you found yourself getting tired easily and napping often. It was frustrating, but you knew that it was all part of the healing process. The physiotherapists had refused to let you wear the speaking valve after they discovered that you had some trouble the previous night, rendering you speechless for the day.

What worried you more was the fact that Bucky, who had been by your side throughout your ordeal, seemed to be spending less and less time with you. You couldn't help but wonder where he went when he wasn't with you. Old insecurities started to resurface, and you found yourself questioning whether Bucky's feelings for you had changed now that you were getting better. The tenderness and care that he had shown you in the beginning seemed to be fading, and it left you feeling lost and confused.

As time ticked on, you couldn't shake the feeling that Bucky was pulling away from you. You suspected that he was going to see Priya, after all, she had made it abundantly clear she wouldn't give him up. The thoughts had you rebuilding the barriers that had come tumbling down after your injury.

Sam was by your bedside this afternoon. Listening to him chatter about Cass and AJ's most recent antics. He chuckled at the reason that Cass had received detention, but you had zoned out and looked surprised when Sam started laughing.

He looked at you with concern filling his beautiful brown eyes. “What's up with you? Not feeling good?”

“Sorry,” you mouthed at him.

“What's wrong, little bug?”

You pulled out your phone and sent him a text. It took a moment for Sam to understand that you had sent the message to him.

“Oh right. Thought you were ignoring me for a second there,” he chuckled, reading the words on his screen.

>>>> I'm okay, just tired.

“Tired, huh? And here I thought you might be lamenting over a certain broody super soldier.”

You gave him a solid deadpan stare, before your eyes involuntarily flicked towards the door, as though the mere mention of him might summon his presence.

>>>> I thought things were better but…

What you wanted to say was ‘I can't shake this feeling that Bucky’s pulling away from me.’

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

>>>> He's been spending less and less time with me.

You stopped yourself from adding ‘and I can't help but think he's going to see Priya.’ To your surprise, Sam texted you in return.

Sam << Have you talked to him about it?

>>>> No. How do I even bring it up? He’s with her, right?

Your mind said ‘he's choosing her over me.’

Sam dropped his phone with exasperation. “Cricket, that's not true! Bucky loves you more than anything else in the world.”

You rolled your eyes.

>>>> How do you know?

“Because he told me. Isn’t that good enough?”

>>>> I don't know if I can believe that unless it comes from him.

“You need to talk to him. Communication is key in any relationship.”

>>>> You sound like an online therapy programme.

Sam guffawed.

“Honestly, I'm kinda surprised by how quickly you forgave him for all the shit he gave you. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm glad you two are friends again but...”

You were surprised by Sam's openness. Natasha and May felt the same way, you were sure, but it was shocking to hear it from Sam who was usually more of a diplomat. It wasn't as though you hadn't thought about all the things that had happened between you, but you couldn't seem to let him go.

>>>> I was scared, Sam

>>>> And he was there and I…

You pressed send, even though you didn't know how to express the sentiment. Despite everything that had happened between you, you still craved his presence in your life. Sam put a comforting hand on your leg.

>>>> I thought I was going to die

>>>> I know, I know. Being an Avenger and being scared of death. Dumb, huh?

>>>> Even after everything, the thing that scared me more was that I might never see him again

>>>> I just don't want to push him away again

“I'm all for team Bucket but I think he has some groveling to do. But trust me, he won't go anywhere.”

You scrunched your face in confusion and mouthed ‘team Bucket’ at Sam.

“You know, Bucky and Cricket, it's a ship name. Look, that was all Tony!” Sam shrugged as you giggled silently. “Just talk to him, okay?”

>>>> Okay, I'll try. Thank you, Sam

“Anytime. Just remember, Bucky cares about you more than you know.”

>>>> I hope you're right. Thank you for being here for me

“Always. Now tell me you’ll talk to Bucky. Everything will work out, I promise.”

>>>> I will. Promise

Sam looked up from his phone to see you holding out your pinky finger for Sam to wrap his around. As you sealed your pinky promise, Sam kissed you on the forehead. “Now get some sleep, you look like you need it.”

As you opened your eyes the following morning, you saw Bucky was back at your bedside. He looked tired and worried, and there was a hint of relief in his eyes as he saw you wake up. Clearly he had come back the previous day, but you had fallen asleep before his arrival. He handed you the speaking valve for you to clip onto your tracheostomy tube.

"Why’re you still here, Bucky? Everything’s fine, you should go home and get some rest," you said, voice filled with concern.

"Trying to get rid of me?" he teased, a cheeky grin gracing his lips and lighting up his tired features.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. "Mostly because you look homeless right now," you replied.

Bucky chuckled. "Peachy. I give your voice back and it’s straight to the insults."

"Hey, you know you love me!" Your eyes shone with affection.

Bucky blushed and smiled. "Can’t deny that," he admitted.

“Really Buck, you don't have to stay. It's not your responsibility. I'm a big girl, I have to learn to take care of myself,” you said softly, your voice tinged with sadness.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding yours. “You know, you and Steve are exactly the same. He used to say that to me a lot after his mom died,” he observed, finally meeting your gaze.

You nodded, understanding dawning in your eyes. “Yeah, he has a hard time accepting help,” you agreed, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But I'm here for you, Cricket. I want to help you through this,” Bucky said earnestly, taking a step closer to you.

You looked at him, your heart torn between wanting to believe him and the fear of being hurt again. Bucky had let you down before, and you couldn't bear the thought of going through that pain once more.

"What, when you feel like it?" you asked, your tone bitter with the hurt and disappointment you had been feeling.

Bucky's expression fell, and he looked down, shame coloring his cheeks. You could see the regret in his eyes, and a part of you softened at the sight.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," you said sadly, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

But then, Bucky looked up, determination shining in his eyes. "Cricket, I promise you, I will always be here for you. Always," he vowed, reaching out to take your hand in his.

You hesitated, unsure if you could trust his words. "Except when you're mad," you pointed out, your voice tinged with skepticism.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you even know why I was angry?" he asked, his tone pleading for understanding.

"Because I didn't get you a dumb birthday gift?" you replied, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion.

Bucky shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Cricket, why’re you like this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

"Like what?" you countered, feeling a surge of defensiveness rising within you.

"You've been lying to me for months," Bucky stated, his voice gentle but firm.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. "I don't know what you want me to say," you admitted, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"What's going on in that head of yours? Just help me understand what you're feeling," Bucky urged, his gaze filled with concern and a hint of frustration.

Bucky's heart sank as he watched you avoid his gaze, preferring to fiddle with the strings on your hospital gown. He had never seen you like this before, so vulnerable and distant. He knew he had to get to the bottom of what was troubling you, no matter how difficult it may be.

Bucky reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Cricket, please talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.

Taking a deep breath, you let go of your defenses and allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Bucky. "I’m sad," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bucky took your hands in his. “That’s good… that you’re telling me this, not that you’re sad. Can you tell me what’s making you sad?”

“That things aren’t like they used to be… with us.

“And this is because of Priya?” he asked, cautiously.

You nod, taking a deep shuddering breath, knowing that if he asked you a direct question, the truth would come out and it terrified you. But you’d been hiding it for too long and it was eating you alive.

“You don’t like her?”

“I didn’t have any specific problem with her… up until your birthday.”

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

You looked up at him curiously.

“I found the gift you got me.” Bucky moved closer to you, so he was sitting beside you on the bed, still holding your hand. “And I read the note.”

“Yeah?” Your heart was pounding with fear and anticipation.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What you wrote… I… I don't think anyone has ever done anything so special for me before?”

“What, not even Steve coming to Azzano to break you out of a Nazi prison?” you joked, trying to divert attention from yourself.

Bucky chuckled. “Stop deflecting.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Pop Psychology. Who suddenly gave you a masters degree in psychotherapy?”

“What you said… did you mean it?”

You frowned, not a hundred percent sure of what he meant.

“In the message on the birthday card,” he clarified seeing your confusion.

“Every word,” you answered earnestly.

“I’m sorry for what happened… with Priya.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” you shrugged.

“But I was the one so ready to believe that you didn’t care about me. After everything we’ve been through together, I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”

But another question was plaguing your mind. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“About what Priya did.”

“The same day that you were hurt. I was coming to find you when Steve got your message. I just got back from that mission with Sharon.” His voice tailed off, knowing what your next words would be about.

“Why were you on a mission with Sharon?”

“Because I asked Steve to assign me a different partner,” he mumbled.

You nodded, as he confirmed your suspicions. “Of all the things that’ve happened, I think that’s the most hurtful thing you’ve done.”

“So you just decided to leave? Without saying a word?” He couldn't keep the sourness from his words.

“Who was I supposed to say it to? You were acting like I didn’t exist. You didn’t even say goodbye when you walked away from me. What if something happened out there?” Your eyes filled with tears again. “What if you didn’t come back? What was I supposed to do then, Bucky? Huh? You left me!” Your voice cracked as your tears fell.

“I know, I'm sorry.” He put his arms around you, holding you tightly. He whispered his apologies into your hair as he held you to his chest. “I'm sorry.”

As you composed yourself, you pulled out of his embrace, wincing as the stitches in the side of your abdomen are put under strain. “Please don't,” you pushed away his hand as he tried to help you. “How does your girlfriend even feel about you being here 24-7? She made it pretty clear to me that she wasn’t giving you up.”

“She did what?” Bucky’s voice rose an octave and his eyebrows flew up into his hairline. “When?”

“Didn’t she tell you why we were in the park together?”

“I haven’t seen her since we brought you to the hospital. We’re not…”

“What happened?” you asked, surprised to hear this development.

“We broke up.”

“Why?”

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Because she's not you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your expression a mix of confusion and realization.

"What do you mean she's not me?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Bucky looked down at his hands, fidgeting nervously. "I mean... she's not you. She's not the one I want to be with. She's not the one who makes me feel safe and loved. She's not the one who understands me like you do."

"I was so scared of losing you, that I ended up acting totally crazy and almost lost you anyway. Bucky, I…” you sighed. “I don't know why this is so hard for me to say… I care about you. You're everything to me… I… I love you."

Bucky's eyes softened as he reached out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Cricket. I didn't realize... I didn't know how you felt."

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally spoke your truth. "I've been hiding it for so long, Bucky. I've been pretending that everything was fine, but it wasn't. I missed you. I missed us."

Bucky's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I missed you too, Cricket. I missed us too."

You leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you. “I don't want to hide it anymore, Bucky.”

Bucky's eyes sparkled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "I’m so glad to hear you say that, Cricket. I love you too."

In that moment, you felt that your world was complete. Bucky was everything you needed and he felt the same way about you as you did for him. You craned your neck back to look at his face, and as he caught your eye, Bucky cupped your cheek tenderly. Your hearts beat in unison as he leaned in closer. The tension between you palpable, the air thick with desire. And then, in a moment that seemed to last an eternity, his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss, his heart soaring as you kissed him back. It was like nothing either of you had ever experienced before. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in Bucky, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace. The kiss was gentle and sensual, filled with a depth of emotion that words could never express.

Eventually Bucky pulled back, gasping a little to fill his lungs with the air he had been deprived of. Even as a super soldier , Bucky still needed oxygen. He blinked in confusion, bewildered by the mischievous twinkle in your eye.

"I win that round, huh?" you said, a playful grin on your face.

"What do you mean? How are you not out of breath?" he asked, his heart still racing from the kiss.

You pointed to the tracheostomy tube in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips, a hint of laughter in your voice. "I can breathe through this, remember? So I win this time, Sergeant Barnes. Whoever breaks the kiss is the loser."

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh with you while shaking his head, feeling a sense of relief washing over him. He had always loved your sense of humor, even in a moment as intimate as this.

You sat on the edge of the bed, overjoyed that you had been deemed fit to leave the hospital. As you stared out of the window at the bountiful greenery that surrounded the urban hospital building, Bucky approached you quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the sterile floor.

"Hey, Cricket," he said softly, taking a seat beside you. "I heard it's time for you to come home."

You turned to look at him, your eyes filled with happiness. "Hey! That was my news!" you joked.

"Do you want me to get the rest of the team to help move you back home?"

You took a deep breath and looked out the window again, contemplating your response. You had been thinking about this moment for a while now, and you knew you had to be honest with Bucky.

"I appreciate the offer, Bucky, but I don't think I want to go home just yet," you said, your voice steady.

"What?" Bucky's face fell dramatically, panic on his handsome features. But you were ready for this reaction.

"Look, Buck, I'm not saying I don't want to be with you." You put your hand on his thigh. "I just... it's been a lot, you know? I..."

Bucky looked surprised, but he nodded understandingly. "I get it, Cricket. You've been through a lot and maybe you need more time to heal."

You smiled gratefully at Bucky. "Exactly. And I've been thinking... I want to stay in my apartment and teach at the Academy. I've never lived on my own, been self-sufficient. I went from living with my family, to working for S.H.I.E.L.D., to being an Avenger. I just think it's time for me to be me. I want you to have the best of me."

Bucky sighed, pouting and running a hand through his hair. "But we could use your powers on the team. You're a valuable asset, Cricket."

"I know," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. “But I need a fresh start. I need to figure out who I am outside of being a superhero or an agent. I want to continue working at the Academy and make a difference in my own way."

Bucky nodded, understanding your need for independence. "I respect that, Cricket. But promise me that if we ever need your help on a mission, you'll be there."

Cricket smiled softly. "Of course, Bucky. I'll always be there when you need me."

Bucky reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "I'm going to miss having you around all the time."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving your teammates behind. "I'll miss you too, Bucky. But this isn't goodbye forever. We'll still see each other all the time, I promise."

As you sat in silence, the weight of your impending separation hung heavy in the air. But you knew that this was a necessary step for you to find yourself and for your relationship with Bucky to grow stronger.

"What will this mean for us?" he asked, tentatively.

"Well, I hope, a fresh start. One where we can both communicate better with each other."

Bucky grinned at you sheepishly. "I promise, from this point on, I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Even if I'm mad, or sad, or..."

"Horny?"

Both of you burst out laughing, plenty embarrassed and slightly aroused.

"That one is guaranteed." Bucky grazed his finger over your arm, leaving a trail for goosebumps in its wake.

"I love you, Bucky."

"I love you too, Cricket," Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly letting go.

As you prepared to leave the hospital and start your new journey, you felt a mix of emotions - excitement for the future, sadness at leaving your old life behind, but above all, a sense of hope for what was to come. And as you looked out at the greenery outside the window, you knew that you were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. Everything felt different now and with Bucky by your side, you were confident that the two of you could face anything together.

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cinnajun · 1 year

Text

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 as your boyfriend

a/n: these get progressively longer the more you go on and that’s my bad, i’m just insane over this group idk …

notes: long hair is implied in jiwoong’s, yujin is not included due to his age!, i did not proofread this so sorry for typos

wc | 3.5k

jiwoong

i think this would be so much fun in the like adult way … like doing taxes together and watching tv shows

dating jiwoong means SETTLING DOWN!!! this is for the long run for real

in all seriousness i think being jiwoong’s s/o means you will feel very secure at all times

he isn’t interested in anyone but you … like seriously

looks at you like you’re the only person on the planet when you’re out and about

if anyone hits on him, he shuts it down SO fast that you’ll barely have time to process what happened

in terms of love languages, i’d say his is probably acts of service in both giving and receiving

there’s no better way to show him that you love him than taking care of little chores around the house (especially the ones he usually does) or picking up some toothpaste when he’s running low

in the same way, he loves to do those things for you—he really appreciates the way you smile when you find out he did the dishes for you <;<3

overall, a very sweet relationship, and a very very long-term one

IT’S ALMOST LAUGHABLE how gentle Jiwoong is as he braids your hair, pulling each strand off your head with such precision and cautiousness that you’d think he was braiding strands of pure gold. Weddings were long events, and you’d noticed that, every time you went to one, you ended up with a million knots in your hair that you had to spend extra time brushing out after.

So, Jiwoong had the bright idea to braid your hair—and insisted he do it for you, so that you wouldn’t have to keep your arms raised for so long, or something. You just didn’t think he’d try this hard at it.

“You can go a little faster, you know,” you said, painting your eyelashes with mascara. “If you go any slower, we’ll be late to the ceremony.”

“We can just sit in the back,” he mumbled, continuing to put one strand over the other. “I need to make sure it’s well-done so it doesn’t just knot your hair even worse than leaving it down does.”

You sighed, a little smile appearing on your face. “Whatever makes you happy,” you sighed, continuing to put on your mascara. “Who am I to say no?”

zhang hao

i feel like the most prominent part of dating zhang hao is trying to figure out how you scored him LOL

i mean look at him … he's so perfect it’s almost painful

and he’s such a good boyfriend that literally all of your friends are so jealous … and he’s the only guy they haven’t called ugly so that’s a plus LOL

i will say though dating him has to mean you’re really comfortable with yourself because just about everyone shoots their shot with him

obviously he turns them down but he’s too nice to do it in a way where they’ll actually be scared off (cough jiwoong cough)

he’s very loving and very appreciative, and loves hearing about everything you do

tbh he just loves you

his love language is definitely physical touch, but in the like sweetest way possible

he holds your hand and swings it around when you’re out and about, he leans his head on your shoulder when you watch movies, he puts his head in your lap when you’re sitting on the couch…

and he always stares at you, which is super nerve-wracking, but he just loves you so much that he can’t help it

seriously has heart eyes for you

IT’S NOT ALWAYS that your mom calls, but you supposed today just had to be the day. As much as you love her, she tends to talk your ear off, which is something you’d rather not deal with at a random time in the middle of your day. Nevertheless, it was better to get it over with now rather than later.

Hao had been napping with his head on your lap when she called, and you’d hoped that would be a good excuse to hang up. Except, when you pleaded with your mom, telling her that Hao was sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him, she insisted that she needed to talk to you right then. So, for the past twenty minutes, you’d been listening to her talk about her knitting club while you ran your hand through his hair.

You’d also failed to notice that Hao had been awake since before she’d even called. Initially, he just wanted a few more seconds laying on you before you kicked him off (because your thighs were cramping and you needed to stretch), but he’d been pleasantly surprised when your attention was stolen by the phone call.

So, when you looked down and saw him staring at you oh-so-lovingly, you choked on air, causing your mom to frantically ask you what was wrong. All the while, he stared at you, wondering how he managed to find you (but shouldn’t you be asking that)?

hanbin

if you’re feeling unloved, just date hanbin and he will fix it right up for you

he is an endless pit of love and is just waiting to give it to someone (that someone happens to be you)

you’re like 90% sure he popped out of a cheesy romance novel and wandered straight to your door but i digress

everything about this guy is so pleasant that it’s almost nauseating

his mom, how clean his bedroom is, how much he happens to enjoy cooking, how much he loves all the things you suggest as date ideas, it’s so much that your friends are suspicious that he’s hiding something incredibly unforgivable

he’s not, though, he’s just like that

and he just happened to be truly, madly, deeply in love with you so congrats on that one!!!

hanbin’s love language is also physical touch (shocker)

he’s super clingy, especially when you go out together, and has to have a hand on you at all times (if you get separated it will literally ruin his day)

really loves to cuddle with you…for example, if you decide to take a nap without him, you will wake up wrapped in his impossible to escape koala hug

he also loves kisses. forehead kisses, cheek kisses, all kisses … he especially loves it when you kiss his tattoos

he gets super enamored with you when you give him the same energy back, so try that out, too

EVERY DAY, YOU GET HOME from work around the time Hanbin’s decided to start dinner, and, every day, you attempt the same little prank. Slowly, you enter your home, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

The sound of the nightly news fills your ears, and the smell of whatever Hanbin decided to make attacks your nose. As subtly as possible, you put your bag and keys down on a dresser you have in the entryway, removing your shoes and tiptoeing through the house as quietly as possible.

As usual, Hanbin’s back is facing the doorway, and he’s hunched over the stove, fiddling with whatever he’s making. You tip-toe run up to him, bumping into him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He giggles, as usual, and puts his hands on your arms.

“Hi,” you say into his back, which prompts him to turn around in your embrace, staring down at you with the most loving expression he could muster up.

And, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, he says, “I missed you.”

matthew

CUTE BOYFRIEND!!!

matthew is like so clueless in a relationship and he’s just kind of winging everything, which makes him about 70% funnier

you’ll be out shopping and he’ll pick something up, usually a trinket of sorts, look you dead in the eyes, and say, “is this something people get for their partners?”

if you say yes, it will magically appear in your bedroom like 4 days later and he’ll be oh-so proud of himself

your parents LOVE matthew, to the point where you begin to wonder if they like him more than they like you

it’s nice, though, because they’re more willing to help pay for your utility bill if they know matthew’s benefitting from it too LOL

he’s such a sweet boyfriend that sometimes you like need to stop and put your phone down

his love languages are words of affirmation on the receiving end and gift giving on the giving end

when you’re away from one another, he texts you selfies along with cute little summaries of what he’s doing and absolutely expects you to do the same

also sends good morning/good night texts if he can’t say it in person for whatever reason

also has some like tiktok-worthy beige flags (the comments say they’re all green flags)

like he asks you what your ring size is like once a month and then comes home with ring pops and goes “i had them custom made to fit your finger”

and you’re like “omg matthew i can’t believe you would do that for me!!!”

MATTHEW’S HANDS ARE poorly covering your eyes as he leads you to this mystery-location that he’d spent the entire day hyping up. He swore it was going to absolutely blow you away, and had even said that you’d be at a loss for words.

“We’re almost there,” he said, excitement dripping from his words. “Be careful, there’s a couple of steps here.”

You did your best to ascend without face planting, although it was a bit difficult given that Matthew was unknowingly rushing you due to his excitement. “Okay, are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

In a flash, he removed his hands from your eyes, and it takes you a second to realize what you’re staring at. It’s a table cutely decorated for some sort of picnic, with string lights overhead and a candle burning on the table. You realize you’re in your parents backyard pretty quickly, but the thing that really has you confused is the teddy bear sitting on the edge. It looks exactly like the one you carried around as a kid, albeit much cleaner—but you’d lost it when you were 10.

“I tore apart your house looking for it,” Matthew said, putting his head on your shoulder. “Mr. Tumnus, right? Like the Narnia character? He was behind the couch. I got him cleaned, too. Do you like it?”

taerae

swoon

UGHHHH taerae is so perfect

like he’s totally the boy next door, locker neighbor, church boy type of boyfriend

he asked you out on valentine’s day with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of like really pretty chocolate-covered strawberries and you’ve been whipped since

you’re both wrapped around each other’s fingers in the most severe way possible

you’re also definitely like a married couple, specifically a couple of grandparents who’ve been retired for like 30 years

you probably share a friend group, and everyone in the group considers you two the parents of the group (you’re the dad)

almost always, you have a third wheel, but that’s fine because you and taerae are good at making sure it’s not awkward (which is why people always want to come on your dates)

taerae’s love language is definitely quality time

more often than not you’re both doing something completely separate from one another and he doesn’t care, he just likes knowing that you’re around

i don’t see him being the touchiest person, even in a relationship, so spending time together is the only thing taerae needs to feel loved. if you never blow him off and spend all of your free time just sitting next to him, he’ll be entirely pleased forever and ever

SOMETIMES, YOU FORGET that Taerae is in the room with you, which tends to be more embarrassing than you’d have wanted it to be.

Once, early in your relationship, he’d come over and you’d been spending time in your room. Except, hours had passed without you saying a word to each other, and you’d forgotten he was even there in the first place. You were so engrossed in your latest craft project, attempting to crochet, that he’d blended into the scenery of your bedroom.

So, when you kept messing up on a particular stitch, you found it fit to stand up and absolutely scream at the top of your lungs. When you got done, you planned to sit down and keep doing, but you heard Taerae laugh nervously behind you, causing you to freeze up.

“Uh, what was that?”

You turned around, staring at him with what could only be described as horror written on your face. You stared at one another in complete silence for what felt like hours, although in reality it must’ve been no more than five or six seconds.

“I forgot you were here,” you finally choked out, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Taerae just laughed, and it only made you feel more miserable.

“You’re adorable, you know?”

ricky

ricky is such a sweet boyfriend

even if he’s a bit awkward at times he’s so nice to be around

i think he just cares about you so much that he fluctuates in the same way that you do…if you��re happy, he’s happy, if you’re sad, he’s sad, etc…

at the same, he’s always completely panicked that he is not doing enough for you

he constantly checks in to make sure that you are getting what you need from him, and, while he wouldn’t say it aloud, he appreciates it when you do the same

he doesn’t like conflict so he pretty much does anything he can to get rid of the problem before it happens

as such, if he finds out anything upsetting, he will approach you about it instantaneously

i think ricky’s love language is gift giving, though, both on the receiving end and on the giving end

whether it’s an origami flower made out of a receipt you got or a pretty necklace you found while out and about with friends, ricky treasures it like it’s his child

almost every gift you’ve gotten him is displayed in his room somewhere, like he’s got a whole shelf dedicated to things that you gave him …

all of his gifts are incredibly well thought out too even if they’re last minute

he also tends to just give you anything that you express literally any interest in

you like the hat he’s wearing? okay it’s yours now

“no i mean that i like it on you!!”

he doesn’t care it’s yours now

THANKS TO A FAMILY VACATION, you hadn’t been able to see Ricky for a week, which had been the end of the world for both of you. So, the moment you got back home, you ditched the comfort of your room to head straight to his house.

The moment he opened his front door, you collapsed into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of laundry detergent coming from his sweater. Then, you realized that the sweater he was wearing was new.

You leaned back to get a better look at it, taking it in. “I like it!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him. He tilted his head in confusion, staring back down at you.

“Like what?”

“The new sweater.”

Without even skipping a beat, Ricky tugged it over his head, causing your mouth to drop open a bit. “Wait, no—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he’d pulled it over your head, and was waiting for you to put your arms through the sleeves. He smiled, happy with his sudden attack. “I knew you would, so I got two.”

gyuvin

dating gyuvin is so much fun

you were probably friends before you started dating, so when you start dating, it’s like your friendship amped up 200% along with like some kissing and stuff LOL

he knows you inside and out, to the point where you wonder if he knows you better than you know you

he also definitely had a crush on you for a loooong time before he acted on it so he remembers little details you shared in passing from years in the past

as such he’s constantly taking you out on the most lovely dates you could possibly imagine

you mentioned you like hot chocolate two years ago on a friend group outing? well good news! gyuvin remembered and he’s taking you to a world-renowned cafe that’s specifically noted for its hot chocolate

you like barbie movies???? every single one is downloaded onto his computer. every one. and he knows which one is your favorite

i think gyuvin’s love languages are acts of service + quality time

he just likes doing things for you and he likes doing things with you too … he just likes you tbh

he’d be heartbroken if you ever said no to one of his meticulously planned out dates so make sure to never do that (his friends would also hate you instantly and being hated by sung hanbin AND park gunwook is terrifying so don’t do that)

strangely enough, when you reciprocate the energy and plan out intense dates based on little tiny information, he gets super flustered, so try it out if you can

THE FIRST THING that comes out of Gyuvin’s mouth when he comes into your living room is, “You remembered?”

You’re almost taken aback by the question, eyes widening the moment the words leave his mouth. He was asking you that? After he remembered every little detail about you, from your favorite episode of your favorite show to your favorite breed of dog?

“Of course I remembered that you like soccer. How could I forget that you like soccer?”

You’d set up a little mini-party for the both of you to watch the World Cup, equipped with snacks and a jersey for his favorite team. And, somehow, he was a blushing mess, as if he didn’t expect you to remember something so basic about him.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, turning away from you as he turned beet red. “I just…I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, expect it more often,” you said, linking your arm with his, a bright smile on your face. “Cause I love you. And I love doing things for you.”

gunwook

yea gunwook is definitely your first love and you’re really hoping he’ll be the last

you probably had some sort of super dramatic lead-up to you actually getting into a relationship, so you’re also probably super attached to each other by the first day you’re calling him “boyfriend”

even though he’s young, gunwook feels a lot of responsibility for everything in his life, so being with you is essentially his wind-down time

as a result you have a lot of sleepovers, which include doing facemasks and going to bed at like 9pm because he’s so tired

and you just generally spend a lot of time together because you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert for him

gunwook feels really proud that he gets to have the title of “your boyfriend,” so be prepared for him to call himself that a lot

it makes him all giggly and happy, which makes you all giggly and happy, so you’re pretty much giggly and happy 24/7

gunwook’s love language is absolutely words of affirmation

he’s under a lot of pressure (student council vice president, class president, like good lord he is leading the people) so he just wants to hear that he’s doing well, especially from someone he cares so much about

even just telling him that he’s doing his best will make him melt in a pile of i-love-you putty

and he makes sure to do the same for you :)

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT Gunwook breaks under the pressure, but when he does, it breaks your heart, too. It’s inevitable that he loses his balance sometimes, given the fact that he often takes on way more than he can handle, but you’re always there to pick up the pieces.

“You need to go to bed,” you say as warmly as possible, placing a hand on his shoulder. He continues to write a flurry of numbers onto his paper, trying to fulfill his plans of finishing all his weekend homework so he could spend the majority of it hanging out with you. “You can finish tomorrow morning, okay?”

Gunwook stops, finally, leaning back in his chair. He looks up at you, a frown on his face, and you can tell that he’s starting to unravel. You cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with the calmest smile you can muster.

“You did a good job, tonight. And calculus will be there for you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

You smile, a feeling of triumph overtaking you. “Thank you very much!”

thank you for reading!

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 headcanons #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader

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sxcret-garden · 4 months

Text

Wooyoung ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Wooyoung x gn!reader ღ words: ~2.6k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: heavy power dynamics in some parts (especially with sub!Woo)

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

This hugely depends on what kind of sex you had. Overall he’s definitely caring, looks after you, asks if you feel okay and how you liked it. If he took on the more dominant role he’s definitely gonna rub your back, cuddle with you, get you some water, help you clean up,... there’s literally nothing he doesn’t think of. Will be ESPECIALLY cuddly if he teased you a lot during. But if it’s the other way around and you took on the more dominant role he’s gonna snuggle up to you like a cat. He will still take care of you eventually, but he needs to hear what a good boy he was first.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

I really think he’s a boobs type of guy and also a bit of a perv, so I can’t not say your chest. Like… if you have breasts he loooves playing with them, squeezing them in his hands, just the feel of them, y’know? Huge fan of nipple play too, so you can expect him to give them a lot of attention. And if you don’t have breasts then I think the answer is still chest!! Idk, there’s just something about him marking up that part of you or resting his hand there as he makes out with you that feels so good to him. Plus, what better place to rest his head than your chest where he can feel your slowly calming heartbeat afterwards?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

He loves your taste and loves having you watch as he licks your juices off his lips after giving you head. Definitely the type to kiss you as the taste is still present on his tongue. As for where he prefers to cum… he’s not too picky about that. However, he finds it insanely hot if you get on top of him, maybe pinning him against the bed or a wall, and you tease him so good that he can’t but help cum right then and there in his pants. Will definitely blush a little at his failure to keep his composure, and if you tease him about it (or maybe even humiliate him 👀) you can be sure this guy will submit to you immediately and be hard again in no time.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

Secretly he wants to try being under your command for a day or maybe even longer. Of course that includes any sexual acts you might wish for, whenever you tell him to, but it’s not just about sex for him. Wants to be ordered around by you and please you, do anything you ask of him, and afterwards receive praise or a punishment - whichever you see fit. And in between he’s going to be your little toy who’ll do anything you want.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

I think he certainly has some experience, maybe more, maybe less than what you’d think. But what I’m sure of is that he knows himself very well, and even if he has less experience, communication won’t be a problem for him, so it’s easy to figure out what works for the both of you either way.

F = Favorite position

You on top of him, preferably with you being in control. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a total switch, but the thing he’ll keep wanting to come back to is simply you sitting on top of him, deciding on what pace you’re going at and controlling when he cums. He’ll go crazy if you keep edging him again and again until it gets painful, but even then all he’s going to do is hiss curses through gritted teeth and beg and at the same time he’ll enjoy you making him your little toy so much that most of the time he isn’t even going to think about taking matters into his own hands and finally getting that release he so desperately craves. Though such times do exist, and then he surely is ready to fight you for dominance no matter what…

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

Sex with Wooyoung is definitely going to include laughter. It’d feel off to him to always stay completely serious throughout. Whether he’s chuckling to himself as he teases you, or laughs because one of you was being clumsy or something that you two imagined to feel good didn’t quite work out as well as it did in your heads - he knows how to lighten the mood and sometimes appreciates you doing it as well!

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

I think he has sexual thoughts less often than you’d expect him to. But when he does they’re usually deliberate, when he really has the time to make up elaborate scenarios. The type of guy who knows it’ll feel even better when he thinks about it until he really is painfully horny, and gets off to whatever thoughts are up in his head only when he can’t take it anymore. If he has a partner they’re definitely going to be the nr 1 person to appear in his fantasies, though from time to time he might think about someone else too.

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

Very passionate at all times!! Can be very romantic too if it fits the mood, and won’t find it too cheesy at all to prepare the bedroom with candles and rose petals and all that stuff 🥺 though this won’t be the standard, but from the way he always looks at you with adoration in his eyes no matter what you’re doing, I’d say he is fairly romantic!!

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

Pretty much every day, mostly out of habit and to briefly destress in the shower after a long day. Though sometimes, when he has the time, he’ll spend quite a while masturbating in his room (oftentimes while fantasizing, as described above 👀)

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

How could I not talk about his very apparent degradation kink here!! (Very uncreative, I know lol but come on!!) It does things to him to say the least when he gets pushed around a bit. I’d even go as far as to say he’s into being humiliated, like you making fun of him for cumming so fast, or teasing him about what a little obedient slut he is when it takes you no time at all to make him submit to you. Might start giggling and blushing right then and there, and will enjoy it even more if you punish him for that reaction. He’ll be painfully hard in no time, and at the same time he just can’t stop pushing your limits, until you start to manhandle him. (And even if he’s a lot stronger than you, this guy will simply play along and let you do to him whatever you want.)

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

Pretty much anywhere if y’all are horny enough djbdndndd he won’t shy away from semi-public sex, though he probably wouldn’t try to sneakily get you off with other people in the room (he’d certainly still tease you though). The bed, the couch, someone else’s bed, against a wall, the kitchen counter, a public bathroom,... anything goes so long as he gets to fuck you.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Your reactions, your voice, your praises, even you pushing him around a bit… any affirmation is enough for him to keep going, and once he’s caught a glimpse of what he can do to you, he’ll get even more curious and want to find out even more about you! And even if the day comes where he’s seen everything, he’ll just want it all over again, so really it’s very easy to get him going and to keep him going.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Really he’s open to most things, but one thing he certainly won’t do is using sex as a distraction or as a way to fuck out your feelings before having talked about it. He wants you two to always be transparent with each other, as he would never judge you for anything and he wants a partner where he feels that they won’t either. Angry sex or anything similar is totally okay with him, so long as both parties know what’s going on emotionally!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving and receiving equally, so he’s definitely going to suggest 69 sometimes! Is a big fan of turning it into a game of who can make the other cum fastest, or of who can make the other feel so good that they lose focus and have to stop pleasuring the other. However, he also enjoys simply taking turns, because he loves watching your reactions and hearing you praising him about how well he’s doing. Plus, sometimes he really just wants to lean back and enjoy as you suck him off too.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s more on the fast and rough side, but can do slow and sensual too. Especially when y’all are just having sweet vanilla sex he’ll be so soft and caring with you 🥺 and yet he’ll keep a slow pace until you start begging him for more, focusing entirely on your pleasure as he makes sure to help you build up your orgasm slowly, so he could make sure your high shakes your whole body when it finally does come crashing down on you.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

A big fan tbh! Though it’s not a rare occurrence for something that was supposed to be only a quickie to turn into well over an hour of sex so cjbdndbdnxnx

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s open to trying out pretty much anything, especially if it’s something you bring up to him. Will usually not find it weird, even when it’s something that would seem weird to others or that a lot of people shy away from. Sure, there are some things he won’t be into, but most of the time he’ll be open to at least try! As for risk taking - as I said, semi-public is definitely something he’d be open to, but he will make damn sure you two don’t get caught.

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

Not as long as he’d like lol. However, when he really feels himself running out of energy but both of you still want to keep going, he’ll simply suggest taking a bit of a rest with some cuddles, and then eventually you’re gonna start lazily getting each other off again. You’ll either keep going for another round or two, or you’ll agree that you really are all out of energy and you can just keep cuddling!

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

I think he’d like the idea of using toys while having sex with you! A vibrator, a cockring, or maybe even handcuffs - if it enhances the pleasure for you, him, or both of you, he’s all for it!

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

Teases A LOT. I don’t think I need to say much here. He’s a tease in- and outside of the bedroom, he just can’t help himself :’)

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

He’s pretty vocal I’d say!! Definitely talks a lot and is super into dirty talk especially - but if you’re only just starting to have sex and getting to know each other’s bodies, or if he’s with someone inexperienced, he’ll definitely communicate a lot too and ask what feels good and what doesn’t, nudges you in the right direction, etcetc. Lots of moans and groans and other noises that tell you he likes what you’re doing especially when you’re pleasuring him, or when he’s coming close. And don’t get me started on the fucked out and exhausted but at the same time sweet tone in his voice afterwards, as he tells you how amazing you were.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

“Ahh…” Wooyoung lets out a pained noise, almost a whine, as you push him into the mattress with his hands pinned above his head. You can see his muscles dancing under his skin, yet he doesn’t put any strength at all into a rather pathetic attempt to free himself. You’ve ceased your movements on top of him, edging him for the third time now, and you can tell he’s slowly losing his composure, a drop of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes shut tightly in a desperate expression. Still, he doesn’t do anything to resist. He doesn’t free himself - which he undoubtedly could - and he doesn’t flip your positions around to take over control. He barely even begs. Of course he does, but what falls from his lips the most are praises about how good you make him feel, how beautiful you are, and sometimes a “can’t take it anymore”. And that’s your cue to stop, to let him rest while his chest rises and sinks as he breathes heavily, waiting until you can start riding him again, not yet knowing yourself whether you’ll let him cum this time, or if you want to keep playing with him.

“Woo…” you breathe out, leaning in to scatter a trail of sloppy kisses up his sternum. “Such a good boy for me…” The way he looks at you when he opens his eyes makes your heart swell. There’s still so much warmth in his gaze, and so much desire too. He doesn’t care if you keep teasing him like this or if you finally grant him that release he so desperately needs - all he cares about is you making him feel good, one way or the other. And so you press a kiss to his lips, before slowly starting to roll your hips again.

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

He enjoys marking his partner, but loves being marked up even more! If you set any rules like no marks where it’s hard to cover, he will absolutely annoy you by pretending as if he was trying to give you a hickey there, but he’ll never do it for real (unless maybe he’s drunk and goes a little overboard kalsjdfks). Instead he loves marking your chest especially, but the inside of your thighs and your hips are close seconds! As for him, he really doesn’t mind where you put your mark on him. Couldn’t care less if it’s somewhere that’s hard to cover - quite the opposite actually. He loves the thrill of knowing he’ll be in trouble the next day because of you sucking a mark into the skin on the side of his throat. He does see it as a way to mark you as his and vice versa, but it’s not among the most important parts about sex with you for him.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

Average I’d say? He doesn’t need sex every day, though he wouldn’t mind! He certainly won’t say no if it’s something you want, but for him he’d be perfectly satisfied with only a few times a week, when you two really have the capacity to take your time with it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

Tbh he can fall asleep fairly quickly afterwards. However, he will always make sure to stay awake for a good amount of aftercare and some cuddles. Even when he’s spent and tired he doesn’t want to fall asleep on you immediately.

#ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #smut

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jaeyums · 5 months

Text

Just One More (Part 111)

Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)

Word Count - 3k

Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving). fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything

Summary - You curse your new neighbours for partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.

A/N - I know I took forrrrever to post this but hopefully it makes up for the wait <3 Also this is most likely the last part :,) new stories coming soooooon

previous |

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Haechan rests between your thighs, looking up at you as he waits patiently for your consent, his fingers lazily tracing little shapes around your exposed skin above the waistband.

You bite you lip, before finally giving him a nod to continue, your face heating up as you do so.

He smirks, wasting no time pulling off his sweatpants off your body.

The cold air tickling your skin instinctively makes your legs close, but his big hands carefully pry them back open.

He slowly lowers his head down between your legs, your gaze fixated on his every movement. How he manages to look so handsome in every moment still blows your mind.

Kisses start to litter your inner thighs, gradually growing closer to where you’re craving his touch the most. Your eyebrows scrunch, your need for his touch, for him, becoming unbearable.

“Please.”

Is all your able to say, your voice wispy and breathless.

He looks up, meeting your eyes mischievously, giving your thighs a squeeze, making you squirm.

“Be patient, princess.”

He lowers his head back between your thighs, his nose lightly grazing your bundle of nerves. Your hips moving slightly at the small stimulation.

Seeing you react this way, he can’t contain himself any longer, his tongue running up your slit before swirling around that same bundles of nerves. His lips wrapping around and starting sucking rhythmically.

Your body jolts, and his hands quickly move to hold your hips still, pressing them against the bed to ensure he’s in full control.

You tilt your head back in bliss as he continues to eat you out, this feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before.

Your hands jump to his hair as he hits an especially sensitive area, your fingers tangling between his soft black strands.

You tug lightly and he lets out a small groan in response, the vibrations against your core pushing you closer to your climax.

“Haechan..I’m gonna…”

You try your best to warn him but you find it painfully difficult to get out a sentence without moaning between each breath.

He continues to devour you, his hooded eyes looking up to meet yours. The lust encapsulated in his eyes send you over the edge, as your body lifts off the bed as your head falls back.

A string of moans and obscenities tumble from your lips as you cum on his tongue, his gaze never leaving your face as he fully takes the moment in.

You pull him back up, needing desperately to kiss him again, and he obliges. His tongue pushing past your lips as you taste yourself.

He pulls away to get a better look at you. Your eyes glazed over, cheeks red and glowing from the sweat.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful.”

He says, his voice laced with a sincerity you hadn’t heard from him before.

You kiss him again, this time more slow and passionate rather than fast and hungry.

Suddenly, he breaks away from you, pushing himself off his bed. You look up at him confused, and he smiles at you, though winces slightly as he readjusts his pants.

You eyes follow the movement, landing on the clearly painful tent in his jeans. You fumble with your shirt nervously at the sight.

“Don’t worry, I’m just gonna take a quick shower to take care of this.”

He says in a joking but reassuring tone, able to sense your nervousness to go any further.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing I haven’t done before.”

He teases, causing you to roll your eyes in response. He makes his way over to the bathroom taking his shirt off as he goes.

You watch his back muscles flex slightly at his movements, but only for a second before the door closes behind him.

Reality finally hits that your laying in his bed, in Haechans bed, half naked, after he just ate you out. And now he’s in the bathroom just across from you “taking care of himself”.

You stand up, the whole situation making your body heat up again. You look to the balcony, and decide some fresh air might help. The image of Haechan in the next room making your body even hotter.

You step out, the cool air kissing your exposed legs. You lean against the wall, listening to the music drift up from downstairs as you close your eyes.

“Y/n?”

You jump, the voice having come from seemingly no where. You look around, your eyes finally meeting Jaemin’s, who’s standing on the opposite side of the balcony.

You pull Haechans oversized shirt down, praying that no wind decides to come expose your naked bottom half.

“What are you doing out here?”

You asked confused, as you thought the only way to access it was Haechans room. But as you look around you realize the balcony is longer than you’d initially realized having two additional doors connected to it.

“Just came to get a better view of the party, I’m trying to scope out some fresh prey.”

You look at him with a disgusted look on your face. He looks back over to you and laughs once he sees your expression.

“Relax, I’m joking, kind of. Plus don’t act all high and mighty now.”

His gives you a knowing look, gesturing with his head towards the door you just came from.

You follow his gaze, your heart speeding up as you realize how much of Haechans room can be seen through the windows.

You look back and him with a slight panic and he snickers with a shit eating grin at your reaction.

“You freak.”

Is all you manage to say, embarrassment creeping up your body and seeping into your bones.

“Last I remember, you were the one who walked in on me and stayed to watch.”

“I didn’t stay to watch!”

You retaliate.

“Oh come on, you definitely stayed longer than needed.”

You shake your head in distain, having no idea how to deal with someone like him.

“Don’t worry y/n, I haven’t been out here for long. I didn’t see anything either,”

He pauses swaying his head from side to side teasingly, as if he was deep in thought.

“Though, the music up here is much quieter than it is downstairs. Listen you can even hear the birds sing.”

You look away, no longer able to maintain eye contact. He laughs, clearly taking great joy in tormenting you.

You startle as someone knocks in the glass window behind you. You turn to see Haechan standing with a towel wrapped around his waist waving to you to come back in.

Jaemin gives you one last teasing look before walking back through the door he came from. You follow suit, opening the door you came from and walking back into Haechan’s room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The cold water splashes your face as you try your best to wake up. You’ve slept in, once again, and now you’re running late to work, one of your worst nightmares.

It’s been a couple days since Haechan’s party and while you’d be lying if you said it didn’t consume your thoughts, you doubt he feels the same way.

After heading home shortly after your conversation with Jaemin, you couldn’t help but expect a call, or at least a text, from Haechan checking to see if you got home safe.

You assumed he was just busy hosting and didn’t have time, but then the next day came and went and so did the next, and the next. Radio silence.

But that was fine, you were so unbothered. So unbothered. It’s not like his head had been buried between your legs or anything.

Alas, you had no more time to dwell on this as you rushed to your car, almost forgetting to lock your door on the way out.

You twist your key to start the ignition, only to be met with silence. You try again and with no avail. Your car won’t start.

You bang your head against the wheel, causing a loud honk to echo through the underground parking lot.

You slam the door to your car as you step out, furiously typing on your phone. There has to be an uber or lift nearby. Fuck you’re already running late and now this.

“You good?”

You look up, your eyes meeting with his dark pupils that draw you in instantly. As if this situation couldn’t get any worse.

“It’s not a good time Haechan.”

You snap at him, your gaze already back on your phone, though it pained you to look away from him. He leans over sneaking a peak at your screen.

“Need a ride?”

Biting your lip, you’re faced with a choice between your pride and dignity, or your job.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His music blasts, the bass shaking your body and the car with every boom. You were very familiar with his music taste by now, many sleepless nights caused by his ridiculously loud speakers.

Unfortunately, you were in no position to complain, since he was doing you a big favour by driving you to work, especially on such short notice.

Besides you were barely paying attention to the song, your thoughts once again consumed by memories and unanswered questions.

You can’t help but wonder if you should’ve heeded your friend’s warning. Maybe she was right, maybe you were just a challenge for him to conquer and that’s all.

Maybe he was someone you should have no feelings for, someone you should have never gotten attached to, someone you should have never let touch you.

Yet, being in his presence again, smelling his cologne, you could almost still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, and you can’t help but yearn to feel it again. The memories of the sweet whispers exchanged in his room haunt you.

You see the facility you work at up ahead and decide that if you don’t leave the car right this instant, you’re gonna go insane.

“You can just drop me off here.”

“Huh?”

He responds, clearly not hearing you but also making no effort to turn the music down.

You roll your eyes as you move to twist the nob down yourself, missing his smirk as you do.

“Can I just drop you off here?”

He asks innocently.

“Yeah just drop me off-“

You pause mid sentence finally processing his little prank.

“Ha ha so funny.”

“You better laugh louder than that if you want me to pick you up.”

You shake your head, laughing at his remark. You hop out of his car closing the door. He rolls the window down, looking at you expectantly.

“You don’t need to drive me back too, I’ll probably just get an uber or something.”

A look flashes across his face, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“How long is your shift?”

“6 hours, why?”

“Then I’ll meet you back here in 6 hours.”

Before you can protest any further, he zooms off, his tires squealing slightly as he goes.

You sigh, shaking your head, trying your absolute best to ignore the smile fighting its way onto your face. Knowing he’ll be all you’ll be able to think about until you see him again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your shift comes and goes, much faster than you had expected. Haechan had been at the drop off spot, pulling in just as you walked out, a proud smile painted on his delicate features. He always was good at timing things perfectly.

The ride home was much like the ride there. He was calmly listening to music while you fought waging wars in your mind, a battle between your heart and brain (and your pussy).

You walked back together, now without the loud music to fill the quiet space, it’s filled with awkward small talk. Mixed feelings tainting the air between you two.

You now stand in your doorway, the war in your mind has become a viscous bloodbath, a victor finally emerging from the rumble and taking control.

Just as he turns the knob to enter his room, you call out to him, causing his moves to halt.

“Hey, as a thanks for being my personal chauffeur for the day, how about you join me for dinner. I’ll take a turn at being your personal chef.”

He pauses for a second, still holding the door leading into his apartment.

“Cmon, y/n, you know I can’t say no to you.”

With that he whirls around, almost skipping into your apartment, leaving you standing in the doorway.

You take a second to compose yourself before following him inside.

“So whatcha cooking chef? Can we get some kimchi jjigae in here.”

Haechan calls as you enter the kitchen. He looks like an excited little boy sitting at the table just before his parents walk in with a lit birthday cake.

You let out a small laugh at the thought of this full grown man getting giddy about his birthday.

“Alright, coming right up. Do you mind of I play some music? It helps me cook.”

“Of course.”

You sit against the counter and you connect your phone to your house speakers. Cigarettes after sex starts playing softly.

You can’t stop yourself from looking up to check Haechan’s reaction to your music taste. He’s already looking at you, his eyes sparkling before something shifts and he turns away.

“Do you not like this song or something?”

“No, no I actually love it. I’m just surprised you listen to them too.”

“You’re surprised? I’m the one who’s shocked mr. fuckboy actually has good music taste after all.”

He glares at your back at your remark, not that you would even notice, as your focus had already fully shifted to cooking the meal.

“I’m not a fuckboy, y/n.”

“Yeah I know, you’re secretly a soft sensitive boy who listens to cigarettes after sex, right?”

“I know I’m not getting heat from the virgin right now.”

You spin around dramatically, clutching your chest like you’d been shot.

“Low blow, Haechan.”

He rolls his eyes at your performance, trying his best to stifle his grin.

“I’d rather be a virgin that have a body count in the hundreds.”

“It’s actually in the thousands.”

You and Haechan continue bickering and teasing with each other as you finish up cooking. Occasionally he’d stop talking suddenly or would interrupt you to sing along to whatever song was playing.

You were actually blown away by how stunning his voice was, not expecting someone like him to be able to sing like that. He hit every note perfectly. Though you’d rather die than ever compliment him out loud.

After setting the table and placing two bowls down, you go back to the fridge to grab something to drink. Before you can even sit down Haechan had already stuffed his face with the kimchi jjigae.

“This…this stuff is so. good.”

“Wow, thanks for waiting for me.”

You say flatly, as you sit down. He looked at you with a cute pout.

“I tried waiting, but it just smelled so good I couldn’t resist.”

“You need better self control.”

His face falters for a second, before he lets out a little scoff.

“I’m well aware.”

The two of you finish up your meals. Despite everything that has gone on between the two of you, this moment of peace filled you with unexpected happiness. It felt exactly how you imagined all those happy married couples looked dining after a long day of work. Something about it felt so right.

But before you could fully bask in the moment, he gets up. You look at him confused, and he holds up his empty bowl, looking satisfied. He washes it in the sink even though you told him he didn’t need to.

You both stand at the doorway, the feeling of almost awkwardness lingering in the air. It was like both of you were too scared to talk, as it would result in someone leaving.

“Thank you again for the meal.”

He says finally breaking the silence. You smile up at him, the urge to kiss him almost painful. Being in his presence has that effect on you.

He looks down at you, with a sweet smirk on his face, and you can’t help but hope he feels the same way.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in towards him.

Please, just one more kiss.

————————————————————————

tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred @miniminkis @milimo07 @neocityhoe @90s-belladonna @toroufriteh @renjunniex @jhornytrash @fullsunahceah @tayatot @ncitstudentoftheyear @fullsunrise @amrqxk @rdflare51 @buuuubbu3 @kodasity @chimiwimi @cas104 @dongsookie0606 @foxydumps @nswers-world

( if your user is in white pls double check your settings as I am unable to properly tag you </3 )

#idk what im doing #frat boy #dreamies #haechan smut #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct haechan #haechan fanfic #haechan #nct x reader #toxic

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erwinsmithsmissingleftarm · 7 months

Note

Hello! Can I place an order for a Smut Alphabet for sweet boy Armin? Sorry if I write something bad, English is not my first language. 🫶🫶❤️

A/n: Hey hey! First thank you for your request, I love our baby Armin! And don't worry, you've got a better English than most of people I know :) Secondely, I just wanted to warn that this work will be published in many parts because I want to have a regular updating schedule and won't be able with such a long work! Stay tuned for new updates!

Cw: 18+ stuff, what did you expect, it's basically a smut alphabet

Letters: A, E, F, H, O, Y & Z

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Omg. He is just freaking adorable. Look at him cuddling with you as he nuzzles softly in your neck to feel the heat of your body against his cheek. He's 100% collaborative, changing the bed sheets before taking a quick shower with you just to lay down on a nice and warm bed. Play with his hair PLEASE. He just loves it and this makes him feel safe in your arms.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sweet baby Armin is 0% experienced and barely know what he is doing. Watch him blushing like hell as he tries to look confident just to fail miserably. He is spreading your legs hesitantly before gently pushing himself inside you, the heat making him even more nervous. But with a bit of help, Armin is quite good for his first time and the next ones will only get better. After all, everybody gets better with practice.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He prefers positions where you have the main control. Like control of the speed of the thrusts, the depth, ect. See, he likes to be controled so he does not have to worry about anything but enjoying the moment. A good example of one of his favorite position is the cowgirl, where he just has to lay down while you are fucking yourself on his dick.

Of course, if you want him to be more controlant, he will do it with pleasure. When he is in charge, he prefers to see your face so he can see if you like or not what he is doing. He would also do a position with which he is familiar. Missionnary or the lotus are good alternatives.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Armin is very self-conscious when it comes to these kinds of things so be ready that he will take care of his pubic hair very seriously. It never happened that his groin and private parts were not perfectly shaved when you two made love.

And what about his "normal" hair? Please tug on them, make him choke on you pussy while he's trying to eat it. He loves the slight pain that he can feels when your fingers are pulling his block locks added to the pleasure he feels from sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This boy prefers to give oral over receiving oral. I mean... he is obsessed with your cunt and could spend all his days with you riding his face. Don't be scared to put all your weight on him, this man loves to lick you until you can't cum anymore.

He isn't particulary skilled at first but his cunni becomes better and better each time he does one. But still he prefers to give you a messy oral, his tongue teasing your dripping pussy until you beg for more.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Armin does not have a really high sex drive and he's pretty flexible when it comes to sex. He's ready to have it when you want and won't ask to have some, not because he doesn't like having sex but because he's too shy and doesn't want to look obsessed with it. He can spend weeks without have any sexual relations and if he gets sexually frustrated, it won't be very noticeable. You sometimes even have to remind him to speak for himself

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Armin will want to fall asleep with you but boy is so tired... He's literally fighting against his sleepiness. He's so cute fr, half-closed eyes trying to focus on your face as he let out a cute little yawn.

"Armin... you can sleep, you know?"

"No... I have to... wait for you."

But no matter how hard he tries, he will probably fall asleep before you. And he will even feel bad about it so please reassure him that he did nothing wrong cuz you know him, always stressing for nothing.

⁔‿⁔‿ ⁔‿⁔‿ ⁔‿⁔‿

Next letters: B, C, D, K, N, M & X

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x reader #armin x reader smut #armin arlert smut #aot smut #armin aot #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #smut alphabet #armin arlert headcanons #smut headcanons #aot smut headcanons #requested

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annmarcus63 · 6 months

Text

It's a pleasant night. His belly is full, his feet throbbing after dancing all over the tavern like he was the eighteen-year-old bard he used to be. He's no longer that foolish child, not after everything. The only thing left from the eighteen-year-old Jaskier is Geralt. Jaskier smiles at the thought. Speaking of a certain witcher, he's sitting on the chair by the window, the light from the fire coloring his side with an auspicious orange hue. He’s so handsome.

It's been a while since the last time he traveled with Geralt, quite a while since the last time they were traveling to a big town, Oxenfurt specifically. That's the reason he feels so content, lightheaded in the best of ways and a little bit excited. You see, he's received a letter from the university. He will be named Artist of the Decade in a major award (obviously) as part of the Oxenfurt Music and Arts festival. Artist of the decade, him, Jaskier. Valdo Marx shited in his pants when the results were published, Jaskier imagined.

"I hope he'll be there! I want to see his cherry plump face when I'm called to the stage. ‘Vulgar art’ he said, he called me untalented, the bastard" The bard is beginning to remove his clothes before going to bed, he's undoing the laces of his boots while talking like eighteen-year-old Jaskier used to. "I'm sure he'll be there. That snake. There was a time he told everyone at the music guild that the lyrics of my song were false, that you weren't even my friend!”

"Most of the lyrics aren’t exactly true" says Geralt in the background, Jaskier ignores him.

"Oh oh oh I want to see his face when he sees you there"

“Jaskier” Geralt calls

"Take that mister 'i'm better than you' "

“Jaskier” Geralt calls

"Yes, darling?" Answers Jaskier with fond exasperation. He's having a big monologue here and that's the moment Geralt decides he wants to add to the conversation. He's been quiet lately.

"I'm not going" Jaskier feels a bold blow on the center of his chest. His heart hunching on itself at registering those words. He understands perfectly well but decides to play dumb anyway. "Where, darling?" and apparently Geralt wants to play dumb too because he stays silent.

"Can I ask why?" Jaskier crosses his arms in front of his chest, already defensive and Geralt is there, still sitting, with a somber expression. This is going to end in an argument, both of them can tell.

"I can't"

"Alright..." Geralt hates being prompted to talk when the conversation is tense, but Jaskier can help it, and doesn't want to help him.

"I'm sorry" at least here he looks remorseful.

"No, no, Geralt. You promised!"

"I'm sorry, something has come up..." Jaskier takes two steps forward and Geralt stands raising his hands in a placating manner.

"What has come up...?" And then Jaskier remembers, the black speck against the window in the middle of the night a week ago. "Does this have something to do with that raven?" Geralt growls, sometimes he forgets his bard used to be a Redanian spy. “Is it because of Yennefer?”

"I'm sorry" Geralt nods, giving the truth. "Is important"

"This is important too!"

And now the bard is shouting at Geralt, he hates doing that, but the witcher is not helping either.

“It’s an award, you have plenty”

“It’s NOT an award, is THE award”

They are standing in front of the other, speaking to the other’s face, up this close Jaskier can see the pattern of tiny scars all over Geralt's face. The bard takes a couple of calming breaths, trying to keep his temper. He hates arguing with the witcher. "Can't she wait?" he asks, but Geralt only denies with his head, already so sure "What is it about?" the witcher doesn't reply "You don't even know!" There goes Jaskier temper again, the bard throws his arms in the air, exasperated and frustrated. This is important to him, and Geralt knew it and it pains him to realize that the witcher would so easily push him aside. A if Jaskier achievements aren't a thing to cherish and celebrate, as if... he's not important. "She didn't tell, she said It's important" Says Geralt followed by a heavy sigh indicating that he thinks Jaskier is being childish.

"This is important to me, Geralt - "

" - I know..."

" I asked you to come last year, remember? I told you that I might win the award and you promised you’ll come! I know you don't like big cities but..."

“-I’m sorry” And that's it. Jaskier can feel his heart turning into dust and falling heavily to the pit of his stomach. It's not the same as the mountain, but it feels similar in a way. Jaskier is realizing just how much he means to Geralt. Again. Jaskier holds Geralt's eyes from below, at least the witcher looks ashamed.

And then after a long, resigned sigh the bard murmurs "Whatever" It keeps happening, repeatedly, suddenly and inexplicably he keeps getting hurt with by his own naivety by thinking that someday Geralt would choose him, not over Yennefer, Ciri or the other witchers. Just choose him because he wants to. Because it's fair, because Jaskier wants him to be there.

He likes Yennefer now, he even catches himself thinking of her with love. The kind of love you have for the one that makes your true love happy. But he also knows that she can fend for herself and that it is possible for Geralt to wait at least a day before responding to her siren song. She gets to have him forever, why does Jaskier can't have him only for a fucking day? And now he's being pitiful, and he hates himself a little bit for that.

Maybe he's overreacting, maybe it's not that important… but it is! He wants Geralt to be there, to share the award with him. But at the end it's not Geralt's fault, he'll not resent the witcher for having priorities, a family to take care of which includes Yennefer and the others but not him. Maybe it's time for Jaskier to find his own. He has already spent enough effort in becoming part of Geralt. Jaskier goes to search his travel bag for his notebook, he needs to rework on his acceptance speech.

"I'll gather we'll be parting ways at the crossroads tomorrow?" Jaskier turns around briefly, wanting to see the witcher’s expression, to be suddenly confronted with an uncomfortable and unexpected feeling at reading on Geralt's face, a lot more than surely the witcher wants to convey. Shame, uncertainty, fear of not knowing what went wrong and how to prevent it from getting worse. And Jaskier feels sympathy, despite everything that has happened, what is happening, Geralt tries, on his own, albeit slow way.

"Yeah"

"Good"

Geralt starts fidgeting on the same spot from before, when Jaskier decides he has had enough and turns. The witcher hasn't moved an inch, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, the bard can tell. But it won’t come to that. Not anymore. Enough of this, enough of scraps.

"I'm going out, don't wait for me" Jaskier murmurs when he's at the door. Geralt calls for him, but Jaskier pretends to have not heard.

In the morning Geralt arrives at the stables to find Jaskier already waiting for him by Roach. They travel side by side all morning, Jaskier holding his notebook in front of his face, he seems to be reading and rereading the speech, which is weird because he said he's already memorized it. They haven't spoken much, and Geralt hates it. He should be saying something, anything! Something along the lines of "I'll go with you" but Yenn... what if?

Jaskier stops and turns around to face him from below, one hand scratching Roach's neck. They are at the crossroads; it's almost noon and Geralt doesn't know what to say. Their gazes lock for a long time, the wind singing softly around them, the leaves of the trees falling like orange rain. It's so calm. "Take care, Geralt" Jaskier says in the softest of voices and turns right. Geralt watches marching away, wondering why it feels like a goodbye.

It's funny how loneliness comes in the strangest of forms. Surrounded by dozens of people shouting his name from the square in front of the stage. Wasn't this what you wanted? his mind supplies unhelpfully. Yes, he did want this, the love and admiration of the masses. He is, after all, the artist of the decade. But, well, in retrospect he was young with little knowledge of life. It's only natural that your aspirations may change through the years. Don't get him wrong, older Jaskier wants the same as younger Jaskier, but now, he understands that the love of the masses can't fill the void of being unloved and unwanted by people close to him, or people he thought were close to him. So, he accepts the award with the biggest smile on his repertoire, mocks Valdo Marx and goes to the tavern with a bunch of scholars like him. He drinks, he laughs, he sings a lot of his songs, flirts and plays gwent. And with every sip of wine and ale he peels a little bit of his sorrow, his wounded self-esteem, his beaten heart, and self-pity. He wished Geralt was here, with him, but he's not here, so be it. Enough of wanting, enough of this ever-present loneliness. He's resolute. He'll find a place to call home, and he won't resent Geralt. Ok maybe a little.

The celebration has reached the part where everyone is drunk enough to dance and sing at the top of their lungs. Jaskier is standing on top of a table surrounded by the taverns, he's leading the song. He's sweating all over, his hair a brown wet mess. He's happy. When the front door swings open, it's Geralt. The witcher removes his hood and instantly locks eyes with the bard. Like a hunter finding his prey. Jaskier stops singing, right there and then, hopefully no one notices because the song continues its course.

No, no, it's too late. Jaskier thinks. I've already made up my mind. The bard climbs down from the table and pushes through the crowd. His mind it's a volatile compass, pointing at his resolution and to Geralt. It tries to decide how to proceed. It tries to decide which path will hurt more or less.

"What are you doing here?" Jaskier is proud of his steady voice. Not even the ale could break him.

"I thought I'd make it on time, ''Geralt replies , his eyes trying to find Jaskier's, but the bard is looking at a spot on the witcher's shoulder.

"You're late" In that moment the blue eyes look up to meet yellow ones, defying Geralt to name the issue. To name the hurt on Jaskier’s eyes the night before. To name the emotion that is now on the bard's eyes.

They both know this isn't about the ceremony, not anymore.

"I'm here now" Geralt says heavily and Jaskier laughs cause it's funny really. i'm here now so it must be enough.

And this is the thing, he forgave Geralt many times thanks to sporadic care and attention that would be forgotten later. His heart is screaming within his chest, the poor thing wants to take Geralt back. But no, Jaskier won't listen to it anymore.

"And you are late"

A girl walks past them holding a tray of beers, Jaskier takes one and drinks half of it in one go.

Geralt watches him, anxiety sewing itself on his veins. He can feel that is it. He fucked up, again, but this time for good.

"I thought Yen’s message was important" Jaskier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, cursing internally, his tongue loosened by the alcohol. He sounds bitter and resentful. He hates it.

"It is, but this is too" and oh the witcher is trying but instead of being charmed Jaskier gets angry.

"Oh, now it's important, I see. Well, maybe if you have arrived on time for the actual ceremony..."

“…I tried”

"Maybe it wouldn't be too fucking late" A young couple turn to look at them. Feeling embarrassed, Jaskier lowers his voice and continues. "I appreciate the effort, Geralt, but it is an unnecessary one. I’m sorry my friend” says Jaskier, reaching out to place a hand on the Witcher’s muscular arm, trying to convey comradery, an olive branch if you will, for Geralt to take and be gone without blame. If Jaskier dared to look at Geralt's face one more time, he would find sadness, grief, shame, and fear. Every emotion that the witcher always tried to conceal from everyone, especially Jaskier. “There's an open bar, enjoy the celebration. Rest. I'm going to sleep" In that instant Jaskier's heart broke even more. Oh, how he wanted this man, how he longs for him, decades on end. Even in his resolution he still wants him.

He needs to rest too. He's not young anymore, his feet hurt, and his thighs are trembling from the exertion. So, he turns around up the stairs to his room, closes the door behind and with clothes and all, he gets into bed and sleeps like death.

---

I'm posting this fic again because I just realized that I never posted the ending. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.

#geraskier #jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #Geralt does not appreciate Jaskier #Jaskier x self-respect #it took him more than twenty years but is an achievement all the same #Jaskier wants to be part of Geralt's family #geralt x jaskier #joey batey #angst with a happy ending #if loving one self can be considered as a happy ending #the witcher netflix

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megu-nya · 1 year

Text

★·.·´ I'M CRAZY BUT YOU LIKE THAT `·.·★

★ ¦ ft: kenyu yukimiya :: shoei barou

★ ¦ tw: nsfw :: gn!reader :: brat tamer!character x brat!reader :: sadist x masochist :: spanking :: master kink :: face fucking :: face slap

★·.·´ KENYU YUKIMIYA `·.·★

"Ken-chan, I'm sorry! Ah!", you screamed at the top of your lungs, another harsh slap landing onto your buttocks, another red hand print adorning your skin. "You know how to address me, love", he said, his voice and demeanour calm as ever, never faltering. An immense aura engulfed him, indescribable, making your arousal pool into your underwear and staining it, a wet patch forming. "I'm sorry, master!", you spat as another slap landed on your ass. "Now that's better", he purred, his eyes glimmering dangerously in the dimly lit room.

"Now tell me darling, why am I doing this to you?", he asked, fully knowing the reason behind your punishment but wanting to hear it out of your mouth. This was his way to degrade you. Spanking you while you had to tell him what you did wrong.

"Because I - ah! because I disobeyed master! He told me to - ah! told me to wait patiently for him and not- and not to touch myself!", you tried to say in between cries out of pain, another three slaps finding its way onto your sensitive skin. "Mhm, that's right", Kenyu said, stroking your buttcheek before giving it another spank.

Some time passed by of him not saying a word but his spanks talked for him. The more pain you received the fuzzier your mind got. The mix of pleasure and pain hazing all of your senses. You were the embodiment of no thoughts, head empty. As much as it hurt you didn't want him to stop. No. In fact you wanted him to keep going. You wanted him to punish you even more.

You whined when his spanks took an end, hand now stroking over the expanse of your back, over your cheeks and onto your thighs, ever so lightly grazing the part that desired his touch the most, a fuse in your head had been blown when you spoke. "Please master! Please punish me more! Need to feel the pain! Please!", you begged, not wanting him to stop. A chuckle escaped your boyfriends mouth. He now had you exactly where he wanted to have you.

★·.·´ SHOEI BAROU `·.·★

"Kneel down for your king", he said, a dangerous aura looming over him, a spark of carnal desire grazing his red eyes, the darkness and ferity making your sex twitch and throb with lust and desire, mouth watering the sight of his thick dick hitting his stomach when he removed his undergarments. "I said-KNEEL!", he growled, one hand landing on your should and pushing you down, making you fall off your feet and land on the floor with a thud.

You looked up and watch as his shadow hovered over you. You knew he was bigger than you but right now he seemed gigantic, and not only because he's hung like a horse. Shoei watched your startled expression, noticing a hint of fear when he grabbed your face, fingers squishing your cheeks harshly as he brought you closer to his throbbing dick, the scent of arousal and pure testosterone making your mind go fuzzy.

With his thumb he urged your mouth to open, not even giving you the space to swallow, drool soon dripping out of your mouth and down your chin, falling right onto the floor. A tch escaped him at the sight of it. "You really dare to make a mess? Now, at all of times? You are brave. Or rather stupid. Think I should plug that filthy mouth of yours", he said, ramming his dick into your mouth without a warning, making you gag around him when his tip hit the back of your throat.

But your struggles to fully take him didn't make him stop, no, the opposite, it made him keep going, made him increase the pace he was face fucking you, balls slapping against your chin with every thrust, filling your mouth to the brim and even further. A pleased groan left his lips when he saw tears building up at the corner of your eyes, starting to roll down your cheeks as well as drool dropping onto the floor.

"You're really good for nothing", he said, removing his dick from your mouth before a harsh slap of his hand landed on your face, making you whince in pain, your arousal only growing even more and pooling into your underwear and staining it. More degrading words left Shoei's mouth, making your head spin in ecstasy, unable to think straight. You didn't want him to stop. No. You wanted him to keep degrading and humiliating you like that, which he gladly will.

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saratinz · 1 year

Text

Fake It Like You Love Me

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, praise, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby)

synopsis ➩ part three of 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ comment or dm me to be added to taglist.

Never have you felt this safe, here, in the unlikely arms of Bucky. Even waking up with a raging headache and sore ass, you are peaceful. With your head on his chest, arms wrapped around him, you wake up in a surprisingly good mood. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Mmmmh, what time is it.”

“It’s 8:00, you wanna get up?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, let me get up so I can go to the gym.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know a much better way to get your workout in.” You lean in, sucking on his neck, marking your territory.

“Oh really? And what’s that sweetheart?”

“Get naked and you’ll find out.” Once you roll off him, he’s quick to follow orders, removing his shirt and sweatpants, along with his boxers. You admire his adonis-like figure, truly loving every bit of him. While getting on top of you, he causes a moan to slip out when he brushes your clit with his cock.

“Doll, you’re squirming, are you in pain?” He smirks. “Yes, daddy.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Down there.” He pushes back onto his knees, coming face to face with your glistening cunt.

“Here, let me kiss it better.” His lips leave a gentle peck on your clit. Then another. And now, he’s using his tongue, making your eyes go crossed. Bucky is eating your pussy like his life depends on it. Lying on your back, never having had so much fun. You’re seeking heaven in his grasp, almost reaching your high, but you’re soon disappointed.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Awww, is my little baby needy, I have the cure for that too.” He grabs you by the waist, turning you onto your hands and knees. It’s like it’s his job to destroy you, switching from saccharine to dominant in a matter of seconds. “You gonna let daddy help you?”

“Yes, daddy, I need your help.” He responds with a quick thrust straight to your cervix. He’s so deep, so entwined, you can’t imagine a life without him. But no, you can’t think about that, not after what he did. No man who stands Y/n Y/l/n up gets a second chance. Except, isn’t that what you’re doing right now? No, this is strictly sex. The architecture of your relationship fell, all patience and respect completely diminished. Now, all that lies is a pile of anger and fucking. It doesn’t matter that there are feelings there, because you can never act on them.

“Sweetheart, you okay?”

“Yeah, I feel so much better.” You refrain from telling him what’s really bothering you: the complicated love story of Bucky and Y/n. This is not a fairytale though, it’s not a rom-com. You two won’t get a happy ending, no, it’s too late for that. A particularly harsh thrust makes your thoughts disappear. The way his hips hit your ass is painfully delicious, the sting turns you on more than you’d like to admit. “Fuck, Bucky, I love you.”

“Can’t say those things baby, gonna give me hope.”

“Say it back.”

“I love you too.” You’re so close to the edge, you just need one last push. “Daddy loves you so fucking much, you’re the only one for me.” And that’s what sends you over, the praise and promise he makes. You know, in this moment, you have him wrapped around your finger, and that you always did.

“Fill me up daddy, want you to cum inside. I’m your good girl right?”

“Yes you’re my perfect girl.” You never saw yourself doing this, letting the cocky superhero you hated do something so intimate. But here you are, with cum leaking out of you. “Fuck you’re so cute.”

“This can’t happen again. It was the last time.”

“I know, doll. If you need anything, I’m always here. Except when I’m on missions of course.” You just lie there, looking a hot mess, but Bucky fucking loves it. He loves you, every single part, imperfections and all. He knows he will never love anyone else, and he’s 100% certain that you’re the love of his life. He would literally do anything, just to have a second of your time, or a smidge of your affection. The sight of you brings him to heaven, and you are his angel. His unknowing savior. Because that’s exactly what you did; You saved him. You two reluctantly get dressed, wishing everything was simpler, and that you could spend the rest of your lives naked in bed together. It’s not even just about the sex, it’s about the emotional connection you share. But life is complicated, and no amount of love can completely repair a betrayal. It seems that you just weren’t meant to be together. You leave without saying ‘goodbye’, trying to accept that this was your last time together.

While you make your way back to your room, Bucky heads to the gym. “Hey, Sam.”

“Oh god, I’m not talking to Y/n for you again.”

“It’s okay, we’re done. She broke it off this morning.”

“Wait, she was with you last night? She went to dinner? She seemed so sure of her decision. What changed her mind? How did it go? Why’d it end?”

“Woah, one question at a time. She didn’t change her mind, she changed mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“She umm, convinced me not to go.”

“But you love her, there’s no way you would skip dinner again, well, unless, eww Bucky why are you telling me this?”

“Cause you asked. Anyway, we had sex today, but she said it was the last time.”

“So she hasn’t forgiven you?”

“No, but she still loves me.”

“How can you be sure?” “Because she said it while I fucked her.”

“Wait, you’re telling me she dropped the l-bomb during intercourse, then left you?”

“Yes.”

“She’s using you for your body, and you’re letting her.”

“Well, yeah. And I’d let her do it over and over, I don’t care, I’ll take what I can get.”

“Buck, y’know that’s like unhealthy and fucked up, right?”

“Again, I simply don’t care.”

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, and you’re going to get your heart broken.”

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you. Is she really worth it?”

“Yeah, I mean, we just work. We’re into all the same things, especially when it comes to sex. And she’s just so emotionally literate, it’s endearing.”

“So, uhh, what’s she like in bed?”

“Well last night she figured out that I like to be called ‘daddy’ and taunted me about it, so I, spanked her a little bit. Then we went to bed.”

“Ewww, daddy? And she liked that? You spanked her? Remind me to never ask about your sex life ever again, you all are animals. But in your defense, you are truly perfect together, both of you are into all that kinky shit.”

“I’m not good enough for her.”

“You deserve good things Bucky.”

“No, I don’t, not after all I’ve done. Not after all the pain I’ve caused.”

“Fine, go ahead, be miserable, I don’t know how to help you anymore. You can’t hate and punish yourself forever. You have to let yourself be okay.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“So what would happen if she came to your door tonight and, I don’t know, called you daddy and begged for your dick, what would you do?”

“I guess I’d have to turn her down.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“Have you seen her? Of course I’d sleep with her.”

“Oh boy, this is going to end badly.”

“Just, don’t mention this to anyone.”

“Fine.”

It’s only been 12 hours since you saw Bucky last, but you feel like you’re dying. The compound’s bar is becoming your second home. You’re sipping on your vodka and cranberry juice concoction. You’re not gonna survive this break-up, you know that for a fact. Going back on your word is embarrassing, but when it comes to Bucky Barnes, you don’t care at all. He’s your heaven on Earth, your broken angel. Your unknowing savior, because he saved you too. You wouldn’t have gotten over Steve so fast had he rejected you. So you’re grateful, endlessly grateful, for everything he has done for you. And you know exactly how to repay him. Before you know it, you’re at his door, knocking as if you will die if you don’t get inside right now. “I need you.”

“What do you need?”

“I need your cock, daddy.”

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

taglist:

@ladifreakingda

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #song fic #angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #smut

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wintersoldiersoul · 7 months

Note

sub bucky x reader

hi i love your work you’re so underrated

can i get a subby bucky fluff and smut

like reader rocks his world n shit 🤭

A/N: There's not too much fluff in here but I'm thinking of making a part 2 thats more fluffy! I got too excited about sub bucky smut and got carried away... oops

Warnings: smut, very light mommy kink, oral (f receiving), titty fucking

You have Bucky exactly where you want him. A whining, whimpering mess underneath you as you straddle him. He’s totally naked, cock stiff and upright, his tip red, swollen and leaking.

“P-please,” he pants, reaching up to try to get you to at least take off your top so he can wrap his mouth around your nipples. He’s pawing at you like an animal.

“Stop it,” you say sternly. “You’re not being very good right now.” You don’t know how he does this all the time. Usually he’s the dominant one, teasing and torturing you til you’re crying at him to give you something. But tonight, you’re in charge. And you intend to make him a pathetic mess.

“I wanna be good,” he rasped. God, he was so desperate and you loved it. You were relishing in the fact that this powerful man, a man who had been an assassin for years, was trembling and weak all because of you.

“You wanna be my good boy?” You teased, earring a moan from him at the nickname. “You’re not acting like it,” you said, removing yourself from his lap. He whined at the loss of the pressure of your body on his.

“I’ll be so good, I promise,” he practically had tears in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll eat your pussy so good, baby, j-just let me do it. Wanna feel the way you clench around my tongue. Wanna feel your clit get all hard when I flick my tongue over it. Wanna drink your cum so badly,” he groaned, throwing his head back.

You smiled, the wetness in your core growing unbearable as he spoke. “You better not stop until I tell you to,” you said, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down your legs. “I don’t care if you get tired, you keep going until I tell you not to.”

He nodded eagerly, waiting for you to lie back on the bed and spread your legs for him. He didn’t waste a second once you did, attaching his mouth to your clit immediately and sucking hard. “Oh,” you cried out. “G-good boy,” you stuttered trying to upkeep your dominant demeanor through the pleasure.

He sucked at your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, alternating between swirling his tongue in different directions, sucking, and harshly flicking the tip over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy. “Use those fingers too, baby,” you cood.

He brought his metal hand up to your entrance, knowing that you loved the stretch and weight of the unrelenting vibranium deep inside you. He pressed two fingers in easily, your slick cunt welcoming the intrusion without protest. “That’s it,” you moaned, throwing your head back. “That’s my good boy.”

He thrusted his fingers hard as he continued licking, hitting that magical spot inside of you every time. “Oh, fuck!” You cried out as you came, walls gripping his fingers like a vice as your juices leaked out. You panted as you came down, Bucky slowing down his movements to make sure you were okay. He knew how sensitive you got after you came, in the dominant position or not.

His blue eyes looked up at you, full of lust and passion. “I think you deserve a reward after that, don’t you?” You grabbed his wrist, encouraging him to remove his fingers from you before taking them in your mouth and licking seductively.

“Shit,” he moaned, throwing his head back. His cock was even harder than before.

“Oh this looks painful, baby boy,” you smirked, flicking a finger over his leaking tip. “You need me to take care of it?” He nodded at you, eyes hooded and mouth hanging open. “Have barely touched you and you can’t even speak? Does eating mommy’s pussy make you that needy?” Your voice was sinful, full of sharpness and condescension. He was fucking feral for it.

“P-please,” he stuttered. “Need you so badly.” You ran your hands up and down his chest causing his whole body to shutter. He was so sensitive. So desperate that any form of contact had him going crazy.

You took off your top and bra, finally exposing your tits to him. One thing about Bucky Barnes was that he absolutely loved your tits. He threw his head back and growled at the sight of you fully exposed to him. “You wanna touch them?” You smirked. “What if I lay down and let you fuck them, huh?”

His pupils were blown out, eyes nearly black. “Yes, please, oh god, please lemme fuck your tits. They’re so pretty and perfect and soft.”

You laughed as you laid down and squeezed your boobs together to create the perfect channel for his cock. He was on you in seconds, pressing his dick in between your boobs. He began thrusting, crying out at the feeling of finally getting some relief. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “So soft, oh shit, feels so good,” he babbled.

You watched his movements, listened to the way his breathing sped up and saw how his eyes were squeezed shut. Quickly you pushed him off of you, earning a wine out of the man.

“Bad boy,” you scolded. “You were about to cum, weren’t you? You’re pathetic. I should just get myself off and make you watch.”

He nearly cried at the thought. “I’m sorry, please, please let me fuck you. I need to feel you-oh god I need to feel your perfect pussy around me. You’re so soft and warm and perfect.”

You smiled. You loved having him beg for you. It made you feel so powerful. So sexy and irresistible. His words had your core soaking wet and you didn’t know how much longer you could resist. “Fine. But you don’t cum until I say so, okay?”

“Yes, yes. I understand. Thank you.”

“Lay down,” you commanded and he quickly obliged, laying down on the bed and waiting for you to take him. You crawled over to him, straddling his lap once again. His breathing was heavy with anticipation. He needed to be inside of you, feeling your warm, wet pussy squeezing his dick. But instead of letting him sink into you, you began to rock back and forth on his cock, letting the tip hit your clit every time.

“O-oh fuck, baby,” he moaned. “Please let me fill you up. Need to be inside of you.”

You smirked as you obliged, finally taking the tip of his cock and sinking down onto him. You both let out a breath as he entered you. “Thank you,” he moaned out, once he was fully sheathed within your walls.

You began to bounce up and down on his cock, feeling how incredibly hard he was inside of you. His tip hit your g-spot every time, causing cries and moans of pleasure to come out of your mouth.

“Can I touch you, mommy?” He asked, sounding so drunk on your body.

“Yes. Good job for asking, baby.”

With your permission granted, he used one hand to flick over your nipple while the other floated down to rub your clit. You were so grateful he was such a good multitasker, all of his movements causing immense pleasure within your whole body.

“Can I cum? I-I’m so close,” he asked.

You shook your head, trying to remain composed as you answered. “Not yet, baby boy. Gotta hold it.”

You, however, let your orgasm wash over you, walls tightening around him. Bucky’s eyes were clenched tight, trying to stave off his orgasm until you gave him permission.

You came around him a second time, as he started moving his hips and fucking into you from below. “S-shit, please let me cum, I can’t hold it anymore!”

You bent the upper half of your body down so your mouth was near his ear. Seductively, you whispered the word he had been waiting to hear. “Cum.”

He exploded at your command, painting your inner walls white. “So much cum, fuck! Can’t stop, baby, there's so much cum, oh shit!” he rambled as he shot his load deep into you.

After a few minutes, he had finally rode out his high and pulled out of you.

“So, how’d I do?” you asked, wanting to make sure he enjoyed trying out you being in the dominant position.

Bucky smirked, grabbing your body and holding you close. “Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

Text

Golden and Silver, my new colors | part five

“I don't want to continue being negligent, not to you, not to our child, not to us. You deserve more than I've been offered.”

∴pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader

∴warnings and a note: slight angst, is there a light at the end of the tunnel?

golden and silver masterlist

You thought you'd get better sleep after Aemond leaves your chambers. Not only that, you also thought you'd feel better when you vocalized your torment directly to the main perpetrator. Two mistakes in a short amount of time. Your husband didn't stay in the room long after the fight, taking some of the thick, suffocating fog that formed with your harsh words. You didn't even know why so many tears gathered in your eyes and fell like a sizable rain. What was the problem? Some of the weight was finally lifted from your shoulders and thrown to the wind (or to Aemond). You wanted to say all that, there was no doubt about that, so why was your heart so heavy?

Why did it take him so long to apologize? Why do we only worry after the loss?

There was no doubt about the reasons that made you sad, but you thought that due to your new condition of confronting your problems on an equal basis with the causers, such feelings would no longer affect you. You were wrong again. Why couldn't he be a better husband sooner? Why didn't he care? Why didn't you deserve attention and dedication?

The same anguish, unhappiness and knot that made your chest cold and your head spin returned in that moment, bringing the question that it would be easier to give in to him, to them. But then again, why did everything depend on sacrifice? Haven't you tried hard enough? Haven't you tried hard enough for him?

For him, you were crying for him, because of him, why he wasn't able to try to love you.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, fitful and restless, but your pain was shared with someone on the other side of the red fortress: your husband.

Aemond didn't want to hold back the frustration that burned every part of his body from the inside out, so after leaving your chambers in heavy strides the one-eye principle made his way to the training yard to release the turmoil that filled it. He was aware of the negligent posture he adopted from the first moment, the intentional lack of interest, the inability to return affection, heavens, he knew that you, his sweet lady didn’t deserve such treatment and that only his attitude changed when your pregnancy was announced. He knew that he had been a flawed and neglectful husband, his conscience didn’t leave him unharmed in this regard. However, knowing about it didn't compare to being told by his wife that he was the problem, that she didn't want the child in the womb, that she hated him.

You hated him.

The feeling alone sank him further.

Hate was what he felt for Lucerys and Jacaerys Velaryon, for his at times father, for Aegon at times, for life, for being the second son...

He hated many things, but not you. He never hated you.

However, what had he done to receive your love or any minimally good feeling? Where’s the duty? Where’s sacrifice?

You were right in your previous statements. He was the problem, and he hated it.

Fetching one of the straw forms the children used for training, Aemond positioned it in the middle of the courtyard before picking up his sword, not caring about shredding the material with heavy blows for long minutes, nor the noise he was making — although he hated to be caught in such a situation. However, his flaming shadow did not go unnoticed by the restless corridors of the Red Keep, especially by one of his grandfather's spies, Otto Hightower, who had watched intently the earlier movement in the King's hall. A man like him couldn't afford such a scandal or a dysfunctional family, especially losing support at a time as critical as this one.

“My prince,” he announced his presence, bringing Aemond to a halt — still with his back turned.

“Grandfather,” he lowered his head subtly, dropping his sword to the ground before turning away.

“Marriage problems?”

He didn't answer, still looking down, breaking continuity.

“Women can be exceptionally sensitive sometimes, especially during pregnancy, but you as a husband must resolve this situation, and you know that. Is not so hard as seems, just soothe her, please her, captivate the passion between you.”

“I don't think she has an interest in that."

“She doesn’t have?"

"… I tried."

“And how long did she try?” Otto inquired. “How long did you try to claim a dragon before you conquered Vhagar? Has the idea of giving up ever crossed your mind? No, because you’re not a quitter, and you’re not giving up on your marriage.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Because do I think she isn’y interested in my apologies?” Aemond asked irritably.

“Of course she is. Women can be prouder than you think. She's hurt, give it time to heal, but don't be negligent.”

And how was he supposed to do that? It was what the prince wanted to ask, but he was too proud to ask. But what noble person wasn't?

“Know her tastes, be participatory, invite her to fly, you’re the smartest, for sure must find good alternatives to reverse the situation.”

Looking at the elder for the first time, Aemond nodded mutely. Watching him go with a condescending smile. Although he was obstinate to learn new things, it seemed too complicated to get into your cocoon, into your mind, to discover your desires and flaws, your expectations and secrets. Even though he was scared, angry, and guilty, the one-eye prince was a persistent man. After mulling over his next steps, he returned more calmly to your chambers, watching a few figures along the corridor and ignoring them. Aemond had long ago promised himself not to let himself be affected by anyone, or to show vulnerability, but between us, for a person on the threshold between reason and reaction it was a difficult duty, so when he stood in his white clothes of bed and lay down next to you, he moved closer than he should have to your body, one hand brushing back the hair that covered your face.

He wouldn't waste any more time, not anymore.

“You were right about what you said, about everything you said. After your pregnancy I decided to try to be a better husband, it was unfair with your efforts. You were also right about me being the problem with this all happening. I don't want to continue being negligent, not to you, not to our child, not to us. You deserve more than I've been offered,” he said, as low as a whisper, “I know you don't want me, but please, I can't take peace knowing I've failed you, my lady wife.”

In something he didn't know how to recognize, in a need for comfort he didn't know he needed to receive, Aemond hugged your body from behind and buried his face in your hair, getting so close to you that he almost shivered. Although he was stubborn, he didn't know what to do to break through the barrier of pain that protected and afflicted your heart. How could he make you forgive him? How could he prove himself worthy of your trust?

“I'm so sorry,” he said again, confiding in you before closing his eyes.

“Thank you.”

You said sleepily, confused about what to feel, confused about the tightness in your chest, confused about him. You still harbored resentment and sadness over him, unhappiness at it’s most palpable. Where was the hatred that burned just hours ago? Where was all your fury?

Your response startled him, causing him to stiffen fully behind you, body tense as if he'd done something forbidden.

“But be assured I won't make it easy for you, settle for less than I deserve, deal with your cold shoulder again, husband, or you can be sure I'll never speak to you again. Maybe this is a chance, I don't know yet, but don't make me regret it.”

He wondered at all times if he should get away from you, respect your space, respect your pain, but he didn't want to, didn't want to be away from the warmth of your skin and the human comfort he didn't know he needed for so long.

“I won't, my lady, I won't. I swear to you, I won't let you down again.”

That was the first night of sleep that your bodies were together, just as it should be. And luckily or not, you both slept better after that.

The next morning, you’re slow to wake up, feeling deathly tired and not wanting to get up. He was still hugging you like a cat even though he was awake.

It didn't take long for you to ruminate over last night's events. Confused about what you should do with your wounded pride and bruised heart. You believed you’d never forgive him, but there you were, considering a chance to honor his word. Much for his honesty in confirming his mistakes and shortcomings towards you. Perhaps it was the pregnancy symptoms, as the meisters spoke earlier, or perhaps it was just your old submissiveness wanting you to accept crumbs. No, you wouldn't take that again.

“Good morning,” he said, you didn't answer.

Your breathing was deep, sitting up in bed as you considered what should do, looking at the ethereal form of your husband with the white-robed. He was a very handsome man, but that didn't make you stay in bed, getting up to walk to the breakfast table. He followed calmly when he saw you sit down, taking the place in front of him. It wasn't his intention to smother you, but he just wanted to show that he was trying.

“I waited until you woke up so we could have breakfast,” he said.

You nodded silently at first, followed by a low thank you, before looking up at him. Although none of you fully understood what the weight in both eyes meant, it didn't go unnoticed by you.

“May I hold your hand?” He asked.

You nodded again.

“I want you to know that I meant all that yesterday. I don't intend to let you down again.”

“Why?"

You asked, unable to keep it up any longer.

“Why didn't you do this sooner?” Completed.

He lowered his gaze, running his thumb over your hand. “Because I was stupid. It was not my wish to marry now, even though I agreed to do my duty. I also didn't want to let anyone get too close to me, so I just… did what I did. I knew it was wrong, I always had, but it didn't stop me anyway. I know it's contradictory to say that it wasn't my intention to hurt you so deeply when I saw that frustrated and helpless look in each new approach, but I never wanted things to come to this, I never wanted to leave you like this.

You took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh. “That was all I wanted to hear a few weeks ago, many weeks in fact. I really tried for you, Aemond, and I can't say I don't understand your limitations on opening up, but do you know how tiring it was to deal with a cold steel I call a husband? You never gave me a break, and even I should remedy the situation, keep humiliating myself, because it's a wife's duty to keep her husband in love,” you said. “I just got tired. I lived a life of subservience and 4 months were enough to break all of that, everything involving our marriage was actually enough. That's not all bad, because of that I allowed myself to feel things beyond the call of duty, not to accept your apology right away and not to live in your shadow as a squire. I don't know if I can forgive you, because it's still a wound so raw and fresh, so exposed and painful, I know I can't forgive you now. But maybe, maybe I can give it a chance.”

His heart heated aggressively and his breathing became ragged, closing his eye before stating, "And I will wait patiently, my lady."

taglist: @immyowndefender @arcielee @malfoytargaryen @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fan-goddess @dark-night-sky-99 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @let-love-bleeds-red @sassysaxsolo @cicaspair418 @yentroucnagol @mefools @risefallrise @auratiqs @glitterandgoldfinds @bellaisasleep @plzletmedaydream @padfooteyes @bellameshipper @zillahvathek @schniiipsel @little-duck @dc-marvel-girl96 @nina2697 @kaemond-zafiro @the-hufflebird-girl @panagiasikelia @whatsonthemirror @namgification @minttea07 @crazymusicgirl104 @sahvlren @aemonds-fire

#aemond x reader #prince aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x wife reader #aemond x fem!reader #golden and silver my new colors

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

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jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 28

FF does not like being on pain medication.

Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.

He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.

“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…

Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.

Nicky is so nice.

“What about Aaron?” FF asks.

“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.

“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.

“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.

“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.

“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.

He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.

Oh, that’s right.

Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.

Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.

“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.

“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“

“Nicky, I also don’t care.”

“At least you have one another to support each other.”

“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.

“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”

Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.

First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?

Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.

“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.

“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.

Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.

Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.

He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?

Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.

He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.

He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.

He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.

Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.

“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.

“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.

He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.

He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.

“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.

“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.

“Stop that.”

He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.

When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.

Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.

Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.

His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.

***

FF can’t sleep.

He tried.

He really did.

But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-

He can’t sleep.

So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.

So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.

He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.

He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.

It’s nice when things work out for him.

Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.

He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.

FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.

He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.

He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.

His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.

“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”

FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.

Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.

He decides to go to the Cafeteria.

FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.

When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’

He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.

None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.

Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.

“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.

Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.

***

Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.

Interesting.

Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.

“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas @theoneandonlylostsock @cindersapsecrets

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

#Fluent Freshman AU #Guess who accidentally took FF's phone?#It's Neil #He realizes it halfway through the grocery store run #Sorry FF your grandma is now the Monster Grandma #She's got knitting projects planned for each of them #She's already asked about allergies #She jokingly tells Nicky she'll knit Kevin a muzzle because he's commented on the amount of butter she uses four times #He always shuts up when he eats it at least #Neil is blissfully unaware that he has FF's phone and FF has his #Some poor Moriyama grunts are wandering through the hospital having to check every single Smith room for the one they're looking for #Ichirou was planning some mild intimidation shit on Neil #But was hampered because JFC why so many Smiths #Does Ichirou know Smith's first name?#Perhaps #Does he use it?#Probably not #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #FF - Pt. 28

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