#…did I fall through another looking glass in my sleep? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

preciosapascal · 2 months ago

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Sleepless Nights

Summary: another sleepless night in jackson for both you and your neighbour Joel.

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, NSFW, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), pinv, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, pussy pronouns

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x f!reader

A/N: thank you guys for so much love on my first post last week!! <3 (that you can read here) I’m trying to get through my drafts because I have far too many. Ty again, feedback is appreciated 💝

Reading a book in front of the fire every night was becoming overwhelmingly tedious. You've read the books you have from cover to cover so many times you could probably read them with your eyes closed.

And then one night a month or so ago, you decided to sit on your porch in the middle of the night and saw your neighbour Joel on his. It quickly became a sort of habit for the two of you. Talking til the sun comes up a few nights a week.

Tonight’s no different. Tossing and turning in bed, books boring you half to death, the sound of the fire crackling becoming somewhat annoying at this point, so you step outside.

Joel's already out there, a glass of whiskey in hand, and staring up at the night sky. His head turns as you open your door, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Here she is. Can’t sleep again?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

As soon as his raspy voice reaches your ears, your skin prickles with goosebumps and it's not because of the cold breeze.

"Can I ever?" you reply, scoffing a laugh quietly.

He lets out a soft hum in response, nodding in agreement. "Nah, me neither recently." he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “What’s keepin’ ya up tonight then, darlin’?”

"I have no idea, it's driving me crazy." you sigh, wrapping your plaid blanket over your shoulders a little tighter and sitting on the old used-to-be white wooden chair on your porch.

He hums in agreement, seemingly a man of few words tonight. He silently observes you as you sit down before speaking again.

“You tried countin’ sheep?” He quips, taking another sip of whiskey.

“and the pigs and the horses and every other fuckin’ animal on that damn ark.” you mutter, scooting the chair sideways to face him better.

He can’t help the gruff laugh that escapes him, shaking his head. It makes you smile as you wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders when a cool breeze runs through you. A brief silence falls, but it’s comfortable.

"Can't remember the last time I slept through the night. Been a long damn time." he admits, exhaling softly from his lips and shifting in his seat on the bench, resting his free arm over the back. "it's a nice night, though."

You nod with a small smile and look up at the night sky, taking in the stars and the deep blue colour. "Yeah. Makes a change from what’s happening outside these gates.”

He looks over at you as you take in the beautiful sky above you. Every damn time he looks at you, it drives him almost insane. He turns his head forward, swallowing.

"Did you wanna-" the words escape Joel's lips before he can think about them first, leaving him staring straight ahead for a second. When he glances at you he's met with a nod, urging him to continue. He hesistates for a moment but decides to run with it.

"-wanna...join me?" he finishes, nodding towards the empty space on the bench beside him and the bottle of whiskey on the floor.

Every time you've done this, you've been on your respective porches that're directly next to each other. The prospect of getting closer to him makes your tummy flutter.

You nod softly as you rise from the wooden chair and step down your porch steps, boots crunching in the blanket of snow that’s fallen for what seems like weeks, and up the steps of his porch before sitting next to him, the old bench creaking softly.

Joel looks at you as you sit down. The thought of having you this close crossed his mind a few times as you spoke till the early hours.

Seeing the moonlight touch your skin, the way you wrapped yourself up in the plaid blanket, you were just the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

You could feel the warmth of his body against your side, making you want to wrap yourself around him. He holds up the bottle of whiskey, in your direction.

You take the bottle from his hand and swig it, letting the amber liquid warm you up on it's way down.

He takes the bottle back from you when you offer it to him, also drinking from the bottle since his glass is now empty. He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb and leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

You both relish in comfortable silence again for a little while, sharing the bottle of whiskey. You realise something feels different. Like a shift of energy.

When Joel eventually sits back, you rest your head on his shoulder. He looks down at you, shocked at first but enjoying the feeling, and rests his arm on the bench behind you. He could smell the vanilla from the soap you use and it took all his strength not to bury his nose in the crook of your neck right there.

Your head on his shoulder and the weight of your body against his was both simultaneously soothing, and incredibly torturous. For weeks, he’s spent countless hours of the night talking to you. He loved listening to the sound of your voice, making him wonder what it would sound like to hear you whispering his name.

What you don’t know, is whenever you go back inside, he spends the night fisting his cock in his bed, imagining being buried inside of you. And what he doesn’t know is you’ve let your hands wander in the early hours, imagining his huge hands all over you, fingers inside you, mouth on your cunt…

It didn't take long until both of you had nearly finished half the bottle of whiskey and with each passing second, Joel's guard was lowered more and more. The buzz he was beginning to feel was only adding to his internal struggle.

He glances in your direction again; studying the relaxed look on your face. His self restraint was quickly becoming non-existent.

Without thinking, he suddenly raises his hand, slowly running his fingers through your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear. The small gesture, combined with the soft look in his eyes made your thighs squeeze together.

And, it didn’t go unnoticed.

He feels the way you shift against him when he does that, sees the way you squeeze your thighs together. How could he not? Joel lets out a shaky exhale, his free hand flexing on his thigh.

You notice his hand on his thigh, as if he’s itching to do something with it and you snap.

“Joel…” you speak, the breathy tone unintentional.

Joel nearly chokes. The way you just spoke his name, he’s never seen you like this. His hand stops in your hair, fingers curling slightly in the soft locks. You’re already looking up at him as his eyes roam down to your face.

Even in the dim light of his porch, Joel can see the lust in your eyes, realsing they must be mirroring his own. It ignites something inside of him, his hand moving from your hair to wrap around the side of your throat. His thumb brushing along your neck.

“Please kiss me.” you whisper, not caring how desperate you sound.

Joel was a strong man, but he was only human and even he could only handle so much. Hearing those words from your lips, in that voice, he was fucked. His fingers trail from your throat to the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You’re unsure how it happened, but one minute you’re making out on the porch and the next you’re straddling his lap on his couch. Your boots and blanket on the floor in the hall.

Joel’s hands slide to your hips, gripping them tightly, his lips traveling to your jawline and down to your neck. “Mmdarlin’-” he mumbles against your skin, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

You gasp quietly and instinctively roll your hips as his hand slides up your shirt, fingers splayed over your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your right breast.

He groans at the sudden movement of your hips, his own bucking up in response. “S’all it takes, huh?” He murmurs, continuing to kiss and nip your neck with his hand up your shirt. “Few kisses from me and you’re a mess, ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Fuck, he was so right. You’re soaked already and he’s barely fucking touched you. A pathetic “yes” is all you can muster. You can’t get enough of him, hands roaming over his broad shoulders, fingers straying to thread through the greying curls at the nape of his neck while still rolling your hips.

He moans low in his throat when your fingers brush against the back of his neck, his eyes falling shut. “Shit-” Joel murmurs, his hands moving from your hip and side to grasp them hem of your shirt.

His eyes are still closed at the sensation as he blindly pulls your shirt off of you. He opens them to discard your shirt somewhere behind him and sucks in a sharp breath when he looks back to you.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he whispers before pulling you closer to kiss along your collarbone. His kisses move lower and his hand pulls one of the cups of your bra down, then he flicks his tongue against your nipple.

“Oh-” you gasp softly, hand trialing up to his curls once again. A low moan escapes him at the taste of you and he continues for a little while before moving to the other one, giving it the same attention.

While his mouth is occupied by your chest, his hands travel over your body, resting on your ass and encouring you to grind on him a little harder.

“Tha’s it, baby.” he rasps against your skin as you grind yourself down on him harder. He reaches one hand from your ass to unclasp your bra.

Baby baby baby. It echoes in your head like a beautiful symphony. You want to hear him to say it over and over again.

When your bra falls away, he throws it aside with your shirt and then kisses up the valley between your tits, his hands coming up to cup and squeeze them gently before kissing up the side of your neck and back to your lips.

You kiss him back, your fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt, trying to undo them. When they’re undone, you push it off of his shoulders. He’s so hot.

He taps you, signalling you to stand up and when you do, he pulls you closer by your belt loop. “C’mere.”

He starts unbuttoning your jeans and yanks them off your legs, leaving you in only your panties. His eyes zero in in the damp patch, then he turns you around you pulls you onto his lap, your back against his chest and his thighs spreading yours wider.

You want to protest that you can’t see him until his hands trail over your thighs. One comes up to hold you against him by your stomach and the other slips into the front of your panties, making you gasp. His index and middle finger tips tease you, running lightly over your folds.

He’s teasing you, and he’s enjoying every second with his smug ass grin against your neck. “Look at you.” he coos, “she’s achin’ for it, baby.” he whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder as his fingers move further down, collecting your arousal before using it to rub your needy clit.

“Shit…Joel…” you whimper, as his fingers rub tight circles against you.

“I know baby, I know.” he says between more kisses and nips to your shoulder. “you just keep on makin’ them pretty sounds, hm?”

His fingers rub a little faster and it’s as if he knows exactly what you need, how your body works. “just gimmie one like this, sweet girl. one like this and then you can have my cock.” he promises, salt and pepper scruff tickling your skin as he speaks.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time. His body against yours, his lips and tongue on your skin, his fingers working you over - you’re a mess, whimpering, moaning, letting any noise out that wants to escape. Your fingers dig into his jeans clad thighs, desperate for him.

“need your- hmmph -your cock, Joel. Please.”

“Y’do?” He coos, his fingers slipping down to your needy hole once more to collect more of the wetness there before returning to your aching bud. “come for me like this first n’ I’ll fuck you real good, darlin’.”

Those words have you moaning and whimpering even more. You’re squirming, desperately clinging onto his thighs as you feel yourself reach that edge. “Tha’s it, baby. Tha’s right, c’mon now.”

His gruff words are what does it for you, your back arches off of him as you come, thighs trembling and a string of moans, and breathy whispers trail out of your mouth.

“Good girl.” he murmurs praises against the shell of your ear, fingers still coaxing every last bit of your orgasm from you. His fingers gradually come to a stop against you and he places a quick kiss to the spot under your ear.

“Wanna see ‘er.” he mutters, carefully plopping you down on the couch, ripping your ruined panties off and spreading your thighs for him. He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing, begging to be stuffed full of him. A low moan escapes him at the sight as his thumbs spread your lips apart.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

You watch him in awe as he gets a proper look, his thumbs gently running over your glistening folds before one prods at your entrance, illiciting a moan from you. “Can I give ‘er a little kiss, baby?” he asks, already leaning down, brown eyes on yours.

You’re nodding your head before you even fully process the question. You’ve imagined this so many times. He wants to tease you, wants to tell you to ‘use your words’ but he can’t, he needs this just as much as you do.

He wastes no time, diving in like a man starved. He licks a longe stripe from hole to clit first, moaning against you, sending shockwaves through you.

His lips and tongue don’t let up, tasting your release, the tip of his tongue teasing your still sensitive nub gently before sucking it into his mouth, making your hips jerk. He chuckles lowly at that and then moves down and fucks you with his tongue, his beard scratching deliciously against your thighs.

“Oh god-” you whine, fingers threading through his curls, making him hum appreciatively. You don’t give a damn how desperate and needy you sound, this man is working you over like you’ve never been before.

He replaces his tongue with two fingers, teasingly dipping them in and pushing them slowly all the way in before he pulls them all the way back out to do it again. “So fucking sweet.” he groans, flicking his wrist up to curl his fingers inside of you. Your moans, your body, you, have got him rutting against the couch like a teenage boy.

“Need to fuck this pussy now, baby. Can I?” he asks, looking up at you, though you and him both know the answer to that. His cock strains against his jeans to the point it’s starting to hurt.

You nod eagerly, letting go of his curls. “Yes, please, need you.”

He pulls his slick coated face and fingers away from your dripping heat and you almost whine at the loss of contact. He stands up and you can see he’s rock hard through his jeans. He unbuckles his belt, the sound of metal clinking exciting you as you track his movements.

When he’s free of his jeans, he sits down, patting his legs for you to come over and you obey quickly. As you move over, he pulls himself out of his boxers, resting the waistband under his heavy balls. You glance down, almost salivating at the sight.

You run out of time to look as he pulls you over, gently but impatiently. “C’mon, sweet girl.” he mutters, lazily stroking his huge cock from base to tip a couple times and you position yourself above him. He runs the tip of his cock through your soaked folds, touching your clit and making you moan. He chuckles, doing it a couple more times before notching at your entrance.

You move forward slightly before slowly sinking down onto him, both of you moaning. One of his hands grip your hip as the other grabs one of your asscheeks as his head falls back against the couch. “Goddamn…” he grits.

You slowly move against him, grinding your hips. “Fuck…needed this….needed you.” you ramble as his cock fills you perfectly. He matches your movements, thrusting up into you. “Yeah? Me too, fuuuck, me too.” he groans, his breathing picking up.

“Look at me, baby. Yeah, tha’s it. Wanna see that pretty face while I fuck ya.”

You meet his eyes and he looks as wrecked as you. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, panting. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You interlock your fingers behind his neck, riding him faster now. It’s as if you have zero control over what comes out of your mouth.

“C’mon now, ride that cock, pretty girl.” He grunts, smacking your ass and encouraging you to move against him a little faster now.

You ignore the burning sensation in your knees, making it your mission to be full of his come as soon as possible. His hand slides from your hip to the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

The lewd sounds of skin meeting skin fill the room, you can hear how wet you are and it only spurs him on more. He swallows all your moans, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He hold you in place and ruts up into you, hitting that spot over and over, making you clench around him. “Makin’ a mess a’my cock, fuckin’ drippin’ all over me ain’tcha?” he almost growls against your lips, pistoning his hips into you.

Your eyes roll back as you moan his name like a prayer. “M’gonna come inside this pretty pussy, baby. That what you want?”

You’re cockdrunk. Everything he says, everything he does just makes you want him even more. “Yesyesyes.” you whine. “Gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna milk my cock for all its worth? jesus you’re so fuckin’ tight.” His words are filthy, a stark contrast to the tone he speaks them in, making your cunt clench around him as you teeter right on the edge.

“Mmpleasepleaseplease.” you whine, fingers tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck again. That makes him moan and he buries his face into your neck.

“Fuck, I can feel it. C’mon, gimmie another one. Lemme feel you.” he murmurs against your neck. You can feel his warm breath agaisnt your skin, and that mixed with his cock hitting the right spot over and over and his massive hands gripping you send you straight over.

“Joel-” you try to let him know but it happens so fast, your back arches and your head falls back. His movements falter slightly as you grip his cock like a velvet vice.

“Ah, fuck, look so pretty like this baby- shit-” he mutters as his orgasm washes over him too, his head rolls back, his brow furrowed and his mouth open as he lets out a string of breathy curse words and grunts and fills you up with ropes of his hot load.

You’re both in a state of bliss, breathing laboured, skin shining with sweat. Joel rests his forehead against your shoulder, trying to control his breathing. His hands now delicately running over the parts of you he gripped tight as your cheek rests against his head.

“Y’know what?” You say after a moment, moving your face from his head, your arms hanging loosely over his shoulders.

He slowly lifts his head up and tucks your hair behind your ear. “What, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

“For the first time in months, I’m actually tired.” you say, a lazy smile on your face. He exhales an amused puff of air from his nose, smiling up at you.

“Yeah, yeah me too.”

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hanniebaeee · 3 months ago

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Honey Cakes

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, smuttyyyy, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin had it all planned out - a romantic dinner date (plus the surprise). But then he gets almost stood up, and then edged to near insanity. By the time dessert is done, so is his patience.

a/n: Someone sent me something, and I went feral ( @kittentaegu sweetheart, thank you for inspiring me hehe)

The first thing you see when you wake up is chaos in the form of a hundred texts and missed calls from your boyfriend.

You are still groggy from sleep, but your heart nearly stops as you pick up the phone.

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: Baby. Love of my life. Where are you?

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: I swear to God, if you’re dead, I will kill you.

Hyunjin [7:31 PM]: I’m literally sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy.

Hyunjin [7:32 PM]: The waiter asked if I needed water and was looking at me funny.

Hyunjin [7:35 PM]: Just say it. You don’t love me anymore.

Hyunjin [7:36 PM]: I was a fool to believe in love.

Hyunjin [7:38 PM]: BRB ordering the most expensive wine so I can SOB into it.

Hyunjin [7:40 PM]: There's a happy couple at the next table. Omg I wanna die 😭

Oh, shit.

Your heart drops as you realize that your fifteen-minute power nap has turned into a one hour coma. It had been such an exhausting day at work, and all you wanted was to take a short nap before you met Hyunjin for your dinner date.

And now your dramatic ass boyfriend is left unsupervised in a fancy restaurant with his overactive imagination. You fumble with the phone as you call him immediately. He picks up in half a ring.

“Oh finally you called,” he sighs, voice dripping with melodrama. “Just say it.”

“Say what?” You sit up too fast and almost fall off the bed.

“You stood me up for thirty minutes,” he declares dramatically. “I am SITTING HERE ALONE in a romantic, candlelit, EXPENSIVE ASS RESTAURANT, looking like a HEARTBROKEN FOOL.”

You press your lips together because you absolutely cannot laugh right now. Not when he’s being so serious about his suffering.

“Hyunjin, baby,” you say, raiding your wardrobe for something that will make up for this little mishap. And you grin as your eyes land on that dress.

You haven't worn it before. Another one of Hyunjin's gifts - because he daydreams of you in all pretty outfits his eyes fall on and comes home with the said outfit, begging you to wear it for him.

“I didn’t stand you up, I just -”

“Oh, so neglect is different from abandonment now?” he challenges, sniffing for dramatic effect. “Interesting.”

“Baby I accidentally took a nap -”

“Oh my God.” He gasps. “You slept through our date?”

“I love you Jinnie, and I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t gaslight me with love.”

You do a quick job with your makeup, and he's still ranting on the other side as you grab your keys and sprint out the door.

“I’m on my way right now, honey bun, I swear.”

“You’d better be,” he grumbles. “Because if I finish this glass alone, I’m throwing myself into the restaurant fountain.”

When you get there, panting from running in heels, Hyunjin is sitting at a candlelit table in the corner looking like a masterpiece and a neglected princess all at once.

You rush over, but before you can even apologize properly, he exhales exaggeratedly.

“Did you have a nice nap?” he says coolly, twirling his wine glass.

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to laugh.

“Hyunjin, baby -”

“No. It’s fine.” He looks away dramatically. “I understand.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You slide into the chair next to him, lean in so close your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “I said I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you.”

His entire body freezes as your warm breath fan his neck. Then he exhales, eyes dropping to your neckline, hand gripping his wine glass tight.

“This dress…” he mutters, clearing his throat.

“I knew you'll love it. I also haven't eaten all day, so I’m starving.” You smirk, running a teasing hand down his thigh.

He chokes on air.

“Okay. I’m sure we can work this out,” he announces, eyes dark. “In fact, I am not even mad anymore.”

“Thought so.” You grin cheekily, and Hyunjin sighs because it's no secret that you have this man wrapped around your little finger.

He rests his chin on his hand as gazes at you, a soft smile playing on his gorgeous face.

And just when you think that you've won this round, Hyunjin reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a cute velvet box.

“I was going to wait, but honestly, you’re gonna put me in an early grave. So let's do this, yeah?”

Your heart stops as he opens the little box and inside it sits the prettiest ring you've ever seen. His eyes are so gentle, so full of love - none of his usual teasing or the drama. Just him.

“I had a whole speech ready for this, but you stood me up and I panicked and I -”

You swallow hard as he rambled on. He's stumbling on his words, and he's so sweet, you just want to squish cheeks and cry for days.

“So, marry me?” His voice is so soft as he asks you that, and he's looking at you with those pretty puppy eyes, and you are sure you feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes.

“You sure?” You tease. “I did stand you up just now.”

He groans, head dropping into the table with a mild thump.

“Just say yes before I have a heart attack.” he says, looking up at you with a smile.

You laugh, cup his perfect face in your hands, and say the only thing that’s there to say.

“Yes.”

And Hyunjin, the love of your dramatic life, kisses you breathless before slipping the ring on your finger. And you both giggle, foreheads pressed together, and he whispers, “We’re gonna need more wine now.”

Less than fifteen minutes later - Hyunjin is suffering, to say the least.

Like, genuinely on the verge of passing out in this very fancy restaurant where he just proposed and you said yes. Because instead of rushing home to let him show you just how insanely in love with you he is, you’re… eating.

Like nothing life-changing just happened. The diamond ring glittered on your finger as you ate like you haven't eaten in days. Literally wolfing down the pasta in between long sips of wine.

Like your hand isn’t resting on his thigh, your fingers idly stroking his inner thigh in a way that is definitely NOT innocent.

And Hyunjin? He is in shambles.

You moan as you take another bite of that darn pasta, completely oblivious to the way he grips the edge of the table like his life depended on it.

"This is so good," you sigh, licking your lips.

Hyunjin closes his eyes. Lord, grant me strength.

You hum in absolute bliss, and say, "Baby, you have to try this -"

Try? TRY? Oh you've been trying him for the past fifteen minutes. And now he wants to try something, alright.

He wants to drag you out of this restaurant, throw you onto the first surface he finds, and have his way with you. There is a lot he wants to try right now.

But no. Because he’s a gentleman. A respectable, self-controlled, newly-engaged man (who's so close to losing his shit).

"Are you okay, honey bun?" you ask, blinking at him with innocent, pretty eyes. And Hyunjin forgets how to breathe for a second.

His thigh tenses under your touch, and he swallows audibly.

"I’m fine," he grits out.

You tilt your head, unconvinced.

"You’re not touching your food."

Because his appetite is for something else entirely, and it is not on this goddamn menu.

"Just -" He clears his throat, shifting a little in his chair. "Just thinking." About all the ways he's going to wreck you the second you both leave.

You hum thoughtfully, dragging your hand up his thigh just a little higher, and Hyunjin prays. Because if you don’t stop, he is fully prepared to drop to his knees in the middle of this restaurant, and beg for you to let him take you home immediately.

You stab another forkful of pasta and beam at him.

"So, what are we getting for dessert?" You ask, giving him a sunny smile.

Hyunjin blinks. Dessert? Then he laughs. It’s a broken, hysterical laugh. Like he just realized he might not survive the night. And you just smile sweetly, your hand still very much resting on his thigh, way too close to a growing problem.

The final nail in his coffin was of course, dessert.

Honey cake. Warm. Moist. So damn sweet. You take your first bite, and Hyunjin swears he saw stars.

Your head tilts back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting in pure bliss. And Hyunjin stops breathing. So this is how he goes - sweating in his silk button down shirt, rock-hard under the table, watching a damn cake give you an orgasm. More like a foodgasm?

You let out a soft, sinful moan, and Hyunjin grips the table for dear life. Oh hell.

You lick the spoon slowly, completely unaware that you are seconds away from being dragged out of this restaurant by your ankles.

"This is so good, Jinnie," you murmur, voice low and warm. "You have to try this."

No. He cannot. He physically cannot. Because he was this close to throwing you on the table and getting banned from this restaurant for life. Which, honestly, might be worth it at this point.

But then you load up a spoonful, hold it up to his lips, and whisper, "Open up for me, baby."

OH. SO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY.

Hyunjin glares at you, jaw so tight he might break his own teeth. But when has he ever denied you anything? He parts his lips, because he’s a damn fool.

The second the cake melts on his tongue, his eyes slam shut. It's warm and sweet. And it is so deeply unfair that whatever culinary masterpiece this was, wasn't even close to what he actually wanted to taste right now.

He groans, head falling onto the table again, rolling the taste over his tongue. And when he opens his eyes again, you are grinning like the devil you are.

You tilt your head, eyes full of mock innocence, and murmur, "Good, right?"

Hyunjin inhales so deeply his lungs feel like they're ready to collapse. He stares at you and leans in, lips so close to yours, as he whispers, "Finish your cake. Then we're leaving. And when we get home, I hope you're ready, baby."

The moment your fork clinks against the empty dessert plate, his soul fully detaches from his body. Okay. It's done. You're done.

Now he can finally do what he has been plotting for the last two hours. His chair scrapes back so fast, and he grabs your wrist, and nearly drags you up and out in record time.

You giggle shamelessly as Hyunjin literally throws you into the passenger seat of his car.

He slides into the driver's seat, slams the door shut, says nothing for a minute. His head falls back against the headrest, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing. His fingers flex against his thighs.

And you? You are having the time of your life.

"Honey bun, why are you so tense?"

Hyunjin lets out a deep laugh.

"Tense?" He turns his head to look at you, his blown-out eyes locking with yours. "Baby, I have been on the verge of dying for the past two hours."

You bite back a grin, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to his neck.

"Mm." You hum against his hot skin. "So dramatic."

His hand snaps out, grips your jaw, forcing your face up and his lips barely brush yours as he growls, “Wanna say that again?”

The minute you two step into your shared apartment, Hyunjin has you pressed up against the door. And he doesn’t just kiss you. He devours you.

His hands are everywhere at once - one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your ass, pulling you flush against his firm body.

He kisses you like you owe him your soul for making him suffer like that. He's so hard, it's literally painful, and he can't wait a damn minute.

He lifts you up, hands gripping your thighs, making you gasp and wrap your legs around his waist, as he pins you there, caging you between his body and the door.

His kisses are messy and sloppy, and he's sweating so damn much. You kiss down his jaw and neck and he groans as you nip at the skin around the little black mole on his neck.

Well he couldn't wait anymore. He's stumbling through the apartment, straight into your bedroom and drops you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off. You watch him strip, your eyes roaming his perfect body.

And his eyes are on you, his hands reaching down and under your dress to pull your panties down your legs and off. He quickly gets rid of the rest of your clothes before your lips connect again.

He's so impatient. Grabby and needy. But the minute he's finally inside you, he slows down. Because if he didn't, he'd be cumming without literally any action.

It’s so slow and deep, and both your bodies are so sensitive with need. Your body arches into his, desperate for him to touch you.

It doesn't take long for both of you to come crashing down from your peaks, and you can barely breathe. Sweaty, breathless, completely spent - you’re both a mess. Hyunjin’s chest heaves, skin glistening in the dim light. Even his skin was so damn dramatic.

“I have never known pain like tonight," he says, voice hoarse, eyes closed.

You snort, nuzzling closer to kissing his damp shoulder.

"You survived, baby."

His arm tightens around you, rolling you over so he can pin you underneath him again. His dark eyes flicker down, lips trailing down your jaw, your throat and your collarbone.

"Barely."

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #skz x reader #skz smut #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff

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lidiasloca · 4 months ago

Note

hi!! can you write Azriel x reader (established mates) where reader is worried Azriel only wants to be with her because they're mates but in reality he's been in love with her for centuries but thought he didn't deserve her or something like that. maybe angsty at first because she's kinda avoiding him but with happy ending please and thanks :')

is it love, or just the fear of loneliness?

azriel x reader

summary: Is Azriel’s love for you born from only the mating bond that he was always so desperate for—or was his love always there, hidden beneath the surface? As doubts rise, only he can reveal the truth.

You were on your second refill when you realized Rhys and Cassian had drunk the rest of the bottles themselves.

“I mean,” the High Lord started, already laughing at his story. “I mean—”

“What do you mean, Rhys?” Feyre asked, watching her mate stomach the influence of the wine.

“I mean,” he tried yet again, but his laughter kept interrupting.

Cassian was chuckling as he eyed him with half-closed eyes. “Finish the sentence, brother.”

“I’m trying,” he laughed, now looking at you. Then to Azriel at your side, whose face lay freely joyful.

“I mean, do you remember,” he asked Cassian, “how all Azriel could talk about was having a mate?”

You could feel through the bond the quiet embarrassment of your mate.

But they didn’t, so Cass continued. “Oh—yes. He was desperate.”

“I want a mate? When will I find a mate? Where is she?” Cassian imitated with a stupid voice.

Feyre’s little giggle wasn’t half of the hysterical roars of the Illyrians. However, Az, instead of laughing, gave you a quick shy glance.

Rhysand had a hand on his stomach as he continued laughing with no end. Feyre gave you and Azriel an apologetic look. “Rhys, you are very drunk, my love.”

But Rhys’s eyes widened with a thought. “Do you remember—do you remember when Azriel got drunk?”

Cassian's grin only grew. “Oh, gods. It got even worse.”

“I want a maaaaate,” Rhys drawled, his imitating voice even worse than Cass’s. “Where is sheeeee?”

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to catch Azriel’s eyes. When he didn’t let you meet his gaze, you shifted your attention to your ring, instinctively rolling it.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Feyre said softly when Rhys tried to gulp down another glass of wine.

“What do you mean? We're just getting started,” Cass said, then turned to you. “Y/N, you don’t know how much we owe you.”

“Yeah,” Rhys nodded. “I don’t think I could’ve listened to one more hour of Azriel begging for a mate.”

At least now, Azriel was smiling faintly, as if remembering. As if grateful.

But something in your chest… pained.

You suddenly felt it difficult to get air into your lungs, as if you were falling from great heights.

He was desperate for a mate.

You never let your mind linger there for too long, it always hurt too much. You were scared of what you might grow to believe if you looked at the puzzle pieces for too long.

Desperate.

“I think I’m going to sleep.” The words spilled out before you could muster a believable tone. “Good night,” you said as you rose, not daring to look back at your mate’s face as you headed to your room.

Trying to make no noise, you slowly closed the door of your room and leaned your back on it.

The questions in your head were far too swift for you to dodge them.

What if that was all you were to Azriel? His mate?

Did he only want you because of the bond?

Because he finally found what he was desperate to find? Not necessarily love—but a mate.

‘He was desperate.’

You and Azriel had known each other for many years, and Azriel had barely noticed your existence.

You even believed he avoided you.

He never spoke to you, never looked at you for too long… until the bond snapped for you both at the same time.

And then, and only then, had you found the bravery to get to know him, even asking him out yourself.

Then, and only then, had he started to grow interested in you.

Everything… everything was just because of the mating bond.

A light knock sounded, startling you enough to take a step away from the door.

“It’s me,” the voice said. Azriel’s voice.

Not now. Not now.

You quickly wiped the tears from your face and took a deep breath.

You found that worried look on your mate when you opened the door, and it made it an effort not to cry again.

“The party is over?” you asked, trying to sound somewhat calm.

“I… I’m here to see if you are alright.”

You made yourself breathe before you fainted. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You left,” he said as he came inside the room. “You seemed… sad.”

You closed the door and watched as he silently awaited your answer. It didn’t come.

Azriel took a step, leaving no safe space between you. One deep breath and your skin would brush his.

“Tell me, love. What is it?”

You shook your head.

“Is it… is it about what they said? About me?”

You didn’t say anything. But you didn’t shake your head either, so he took that as a yes.

There was something wary in his eyes as he asked, “About the mate thing?”

You felt dizzy, like you were falling from a cliff.

You had to hold on to somehting.

You tentatively took his index finger between your fingers, making him look down at where your hands joined. A faint smile bloomed on his worried face. “Are you mad at me about it?”

“No,” you murmured. “Not mad.”

“Then?” he urged, moving his other hand to cup your cheek. “You… you feel so quiet on the other side of the bond… I can almost not feel you at all.”

You met his eyes, saying sorry over and over through the sad colors on yours.

“I just,” you breathed. “I just thought about what they said, that you were desperate. And it made me think if maybe… if maybe you only wanted me because I am your mate. Not because—” You had to look away from his face. “You love me.”

Azriel’s long moment of silence was torture, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else.

At last, he spoke. “Y/N, look at me. Please. Look at me, my love.”

You did, even when you felt another tear slipping down your cheek. He gently wiped it away.

“I love you. I need you to know that. I love you more than anything in this world. And I don’t love you because you are my mate.” More tears rolled down, yet these were not sad. “I’ve loved you long before I knew you were my mate.”

Your mouth opened partly at his confession, yet you didn’t know what to say.

He understood your confusion and further explained. “I did, Y/N. For so long, I loved you from a distance. From the moment I first met you, and you spoke—not to me, but… just hearing your sweet voice, I realized I was going to fall for you.”

“What?” you whispered low enough you weren’t sure he had even heard you.

But maybe he did, for he nodded, caressing your cheek with heartbreaking softness. “I thought you would never like me back.”

“But- I thought you disliked me, Azriel.”

His brows furrowed and his hand fell from your face. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Because,” you said. “You never spoke to me. You didn’t even look in my direction. And when you did speak to me, all you said was one word, nothing more.”

A sheepish smile appeared on his face. “Well, I was… shy around you. It wasn’t easy to talk to you, or to stare too long without making a fool of myself, so I tried to avoid both.”

You tried to take in his words, finding it very difficult to digest this new reality.

He had been in love with you… and you hadn’t even noticed.

“Y/N,” he spoke, seriousness lacing his words. “That ring,” he gestured with his chin, and you looked down at the golden band with a diamond on your finger. “I…”

“You what?”

“This is embarrassing,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I bought that ring the very first day I met you.”

You were pinned in place, failing to even breathe or blink.

“What?” It seemed like the only word you knew.

“It’s both romantic and psychotic, I know,” he smiled.

You inhaled deeply, meeting his gaze. “You knew? You truly knew it was…”

“You?” he finished. “Yes.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in his words. Azriel pulled you gently into his arms as you let the warmth of him embrace you.

It was no more than a whisper, yet you heard him murmur against your temple, “From the very first moment, I knew, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, finally accepting the fall.

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

a/n: what is this thing with your titles being a question, lidia? mmmm, 🤷‍♀️. anyway, hope you like this one, thanks for the request. and have a wonderfull 2025!!

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #az imagine #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster

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novthirty · 1 month ago

Text

🐦‍⬛ OUT OF BOUNDS — you get isekai-d into the n109 zone [chapter one]

synopsis — the monotony of your university days is interrupted by a stroke of misfortune, one which lands you in the world of love and deepspace, the game you had been casually playing for the previous months. with no way to return home, sylus offers you the job of being his personal secretary. — a continuation of the one-shot “out of bounds”

pairing — sylus x non-mc! reader

tags — reader is not mc, isekai/transmigration, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slice of life, boss/employee relationship, slow burn

a/n — oh how i wish to leave my academically rigorous life and get isekai-d… next chapter will be sometime next week as i’m on the brink with finals (the class average on the exam is 7/45 we are not okay) i might not reply to all comments but i want u to know i see all of them n blush & kick my feet every time 🥰

ao3 | masterlist | requests are open! series masterlist | part two

chapter one: descent — after finding yourself in an unfortunate accident, you wake up in the world of love and deepspace. you go from burned out college student to secretary at your wit's end. wc: 4k

January snow falls on your tongue, plumes of warm air escaping your breath into the cold. It was just your luck to get saddled with a 7 PM class this semester, relegated to walking home in the late winter chill. You clutch your bag tighter as you walk down the desolate road, devoid of any streetlights— when a vehicle swerves and crashes into you. The impact is that of a sledgehammer to your body, as you hear the crunch of glass and the snap of bones.

This is the end, you think, as the world around you blurs into nothingness.

—————————————————————

You rise to consciousness upon hearing a steady, mechanical beeping— and promptly have a panic attack upon seeing the IV attached to your arm. You feel yourself hyperventilating, the heart rate monitor crashing as a triad of nurses comes in to restrain you. You desperately thrash against their hold, trying to remove the intrusive line from your body, but it’s no use; your injuries and the numerous drugs running through your system hamper your movements. You hear muffled explanations— inaudible to your clouded mind— before they decide to sedate you. You drift back into slumber.

Sometime later, you wake up again, this time with the IV detached and a familiar face sitting casually by your bedside. You do a double take at the silver-haired man. And you laugh. You must be in some sort of dream or coma-induced hallucination. Because why was Sylus, a love interest from Love and Deepspace— the game you have been obsessed with for the past few months— sitting here in flesh and blood? You say as much, and he deigns you with the response, “Did you sustain brain damage on top of your other injuries?”

You shake your head at the absurdity of your delusions, quickly falling back into a medically-induced sleep. Things should be back to normal when you wake up.

—————————————————————

Newsflash: they weren’t. As days passed, you gradually had to accept that— whether reality or not— you were going to be stuck here until you figured out how to return to your world.

Sylus visits you from time to time, the strange girl who landed in his backyard and claims to be from another world. It turns out that the place you’ve woken up in is not a hospital, but Onychinus’s medical ward. Your conversations are minimal, mostly veiled threats as he questions your intentions and identity. “I’ll give you one last chance,” He exhales in frustration as he interrogates you for the hundredth time, “To explain why you’ve trespassed here, before I decide for myself.”

“…I didn’t want to die?” You answer meekly. You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s not being as menacing as he thinks he is, hovering over a patient confined to their hospital bed. You take a spoonful of your pudding when he looks away. Better than hospital food back home, at least.

There's little you can say that won’t make him think you’ve gone mad. But, maybe you are. A strong part of you believes that any moment, you’ll be waking up in a padded room, wearing a straitjacket.

You spend your days drifting in and out of sleep, staring out the window into the underbelly of the N109 Zone. Each day you awaken to the sight of the dark cityscape fills you with disappointment and dread, as you realize this may not be a dream. You miss the warmth of your own bed. You miss the soft daylight streaming into your apartment. (You miss home.)

When you’ve healed enough to be discharged, you have nowhere to go. So you turn to the only person you’re familiar with in this world.

You corner him in the hallway outside your room, dressed in the ill-fitting clothes given to you. (The ones you wore during the accident couldn’t be salvaged, they said, handing the torn and bloody garments to you. Your only possessions in this world, now ruined.) You fidget with your hands, daring yourself to look him in the eye. “I don't have a lot of work experience, but…” You earnestly list off all of the projects and internships you’ve undertaken in the previous years, selling your skills with the desperation of someone who has nowhere else to go.

You were just a college student, months away from graduation before you found yourself here. Your life was tiring; an endless backlog of readings and back-to-back assignments waiting for you at the end of each day, the pressure to succeed constantly weighing down on your conscience. But despite it all, it was a fulfilling life; working every day to the bone in order to achieve your dreams.

Now, it fills you with spite— how everything you had worked hard for was taken away in the blink of an eye. But you push the bitterness aside, offering whatever skills you have to Sylus so he doesn’t kick you out. You know that this world isn’t kind, the N109 Zone being one of the worst places you could have ended up. A normal civilian such as you wouldn’t be able to survive here alone.

You don’t spare a breath until the very end of your spiel, “—and, it would only have to be until I find a way to return home,” You finish. All the while, you’re hiding your anxiety; because how exactly do you get home? (A part of you cruelly whispers: if you can.)

“Pretty please?” You add with a grimace, when the silence becomes overwhelming.

He looks at you with cruel amusement, chin tilted down like a king with a peasant at his feet. The Sylus of Love and Deepspace may have been a devoted lover, but the man in front of you now is a cold and ruthless criminal. He takes a step forward— you think he plans to rid you from his sight, when he says, “Don’t make me regret it.”

—————————————————————

Though you don’t have much to contribute to a criminal organization, you’re grateful when Sylus offers you the job of his personal secretary.

The past few weeks before the accident had been spent in the post-holiday rush of schoolwork. With only your job to keep you occupied now, you’ve never found yourself with so much time on your hands. Years of building time management skills helps you to cope with the high-paced nature of this world, so you put your whole blood, sweat, and tears into this job, repaying Sylus’s generosity with your efforts to earn your keep around here.

As his personal assistant, you have no precedent to follow because Sylus just… does everything on his own. Despite the number of minions and associates he has at his disposal, when it comes to his personal business, Sylus is a one-man army. So, you insert yourself into his workflow and commandeer his schedule; the man doesn’t even have a calendar, for crying out loud. Although you don’t have much work experience, your previous internships and methodical nature help you to excel at this job. Never has the leader of Onychinus been so…. organized, his colleagues and associates observe the stark change in the following months.

“Miss Secretary,” Luke and Kieran affectionately call you, “What’s your secret to dealing with the bossman?” They ask, in dramatically hushed whispers.

Sylus was untouchable— unrivaled at his job— which often enabled his imperious disregard for everyone else’s time and patience. Being late or completely missing meetings if something he deems more important arises (an auction for a vintage record is not something you deem important enough over an executive meeting), expecting his minions to accomplish the impossible in a matter of days. “I did the heavy lifting, surely you can manage the scraps,” He drawls from his leather, ergonomic chair, looking bored to bits.

Though you already knew this from your time playing the game, it was different to experience it, and extremely more difficult to tolerate.

But you’ve dealt with worse in the form of freeloader group mates and hard-headed cousins. Over time, you whip him up to shape, scolding him when he arrives late to meetings, making sure he actually calls back when he says he will. “And what if I don't?” He asked with an edged smile on his face, the first time you admonished him.

As you learned with your experience with children over the years: disappointment hits harder than anger. You cross your arms, holding back your true frustration. “Well, you’d be making mine and everyone else’s job ten times harder. And I would think much less of you.” You thought you’d get sacked the moment the words came out of your mouth.

But instead, momentary shock flitted through his eyes— a slow, amused smirk spreading across his face. “Well, I can't have my lovely secretary think so lowly of me, now can I?” He gave you a demeaning pat on the head, your irritation coming back in full swing.

Over time, you grow to have a deeper respect for Sylus and how he runs Onychinus. He surprisingly takes criticism very well. At least, when it comes from you. You vividly remember the time he used his evol on an associate who dared to criticize his business practices. (He was being rude, anyway.) Neither is he the type to exaggerate his capabilities, easily admitting to his limitations. “I suppose I’ll have to learn then,” Is his attitude when it comes to his shortcomings, and you admire it.

However, none of this stops him from being a bastard from time to time and making your job harder than it needed to be.

—————————————————————

Once Sylus started entrusting you with more responsibilities, you started handling his work line. His business partners now call his office to be greeted by a chirpy voice, “You’ve reached the Onychinus hotline, how may I help you? Oh, Sylus isn’t here right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

This especially came in handy when certain little rats wouldn’t stop bothering him on the phone. “You want to know if he’ll attend the anniversary ball on the 21st?” You made eye contact with him across the room. He immediately shook his head, as he caught wind of the brown-nosing colleague who couldn’t take a hint. “He’s not here right now, unfortunately. I'll get back to you through email as soon as I can.” (You never did.)

Another new responsibility you’ve been given is to mediate dissatisfied clients. You’re surprisingly good at it; sometimes he wonders if you’ve taken some sort of PR training before. With how you handle these grown men acting like children without offending them, you’re either the most patient person to exist or very discreetly planning murder. He would’ve just resorted to threats of maiming (and execution of said threats when necessary). It makes things a lot easier since— according to you— his abrasive personality creates more problems than necessary.

He initially gave you this job as more of a placeholder role, so you can occupy yourself with the illusion of real responsibility while he investigates his suspicions about you. Where did you come from? Who sent you? And most importantly, how did you manage to infiltrate his base right under his nose? But his investigation leads him to the simple truth: there was nothing on you. It’s as if you materialized from thin air. No records, no blood ties, no evidence of your existence before you walked into his life.

But if reincarnation can be fact, and dragons more than legends, why deny the possibility of other realities? This, more than anything, makes him inclined to believe your claims.

Besides, you’ve proven yourself to be… useful, he can admit. You easily adjust to his nocturnal schedule; like another little crow chirping from his shoulder at all times of the day.

“Chop chop, Sylus! You have a 9 o’clock meeting at The Nest and it’s already 8:30,” You storm into his office to remind him. You can count on both hands the number of times you’ve had to overhaul his schedule into oblivion because of a single missed meeting.

“Don’t worry, dear,” He idly spins in his chair, with no intention of leaving anytime soon. “It’ll only take me fifteen minutes.”

You whipped your head at him in alarm, “I’d rather you not break the speed limits to get there on time.”

It takes you one look at his daily schedule to nag him about his more concerning eating habits, even going so far as to ask his preferred meals to inform the chefs in advance. “Are you going to explain to me why you’ve spent two whole hours on a single meal?” You sit across from him at the table; stunned would be an understatement at how you feel seeing all the empty plates surrounding him.

He huffs. It’s not his fault his more… draconic habits carried over into this life. “Can I not even have my lunch in peace?”

“At least space your meals out. Or eat dinner. You’re going to get hunger pangs before you go to bed, at this rate.”

Sometimes, you even resort to physically forcing him out of his office the moment noon hits, in an attempt to prevent him from overworking, “Sun’s up, boss. It’s time to hit the sack.” He’s long since learned not to fight you on this. Even if your attempts to push at his back are puny, at best.

Your days together go by in this peacefully chaotic nature; your presence likening to a storm that has come to uproot his life. He pays you egregious amounts of money to make his job easier, and in turn, you make sure he’s fed, well-rested, and most importantly, aware of his goddamn schedule.

It helps that your office is connected to his, although it's less a room and more an alcove he cleared away when he gave you the job. You have a small desk, a fluffy swivel chair, and a shelf covered in the trinkets you spend your salary on. (Another thing you have in common with Mephisto, he notes to the ever-growing list.)

He could shut the doors to your “reception area,” as he likes to call it, but he finds amusement to idly watch you during his downtime. Your desk is in the perfect position to observe you from the corner of his eye. It had been a strategic decision, when he knew nothing of you or your intentions. Now, it’s become a pastime for him to watch you and your silly habits. Twirling the strands of your hair and chewing your pen, as you talk on the phone about weapons shipments and insuring someone who lost a finger in an operation.

He’s not accustomed to being in such close quarters with someone, to letting someone into the crevices of his life. Yet slowly but surely, you weave your way into not only his work, but into the threads of his everyday existence. You leave your mark all throughout his home; from small trinkets magically finding their way onto random surfaces, your sweater claiming its new home on the couch armrest, a new mug in your favorite color left in the kitchen sink. Sometimes he can tell you’ve just left a room, when he inhales the lingering traces of your perfume.

Your presence slips its way into that of his found family, too. The moment you laid eyes on Mephisto, the mechanical crow had immediately claimed a soft spot in your heart. You affectionately call him Mephie. From feeding him tiny bites of your dinner (he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he can’t digest food), to finding shiny trinkets such as coins and jewelry to add to his collection, you’re very close to displacing Sylus as the crow’s favorite in the house.

Despite only being a few years older than Luke and Kieran— the exact middle between their and Sylus’s age— you both indulge and scold them. You join in on their pranks (you’re often the key to setting it up, what with your way around his schedule) but become extremely disappointed if their fun results in collateral damage; from a broken vase, to a rescheduled mission. Similar to Sylus, you keep them in check but stand right alongside them in the chaos.

Contradictory to his initial expectations, you prove yourself in a professional capacity and cement your place in the ranks of Onychinus.

—————————————————————

The snow melts and spring creeps in, marking three months since you found yourself in this strange new world. Most days feel like a haze to you. Your secretarial duties keep your mind occupied, leaving little room for sorrow to settle in. But when you clock out and are left in solitude, your thoughts become your worst enemy. For that, you linger around the base a lot. Commandeering the kitchen to make midnight snacks, playing cards with Luke and Kieran in the living room, bothering Sylus when he’s cleaning his quarters. You toe the line for how much sleep you need to make it through the day— a bit hypocritical, you admit, given how you scold Sylus when he works at his office late into the night.

Misguided as it was, maybe it was a drop of fortune that you found yourself in his world. You’ve read stories of being transported to other worlds— of lions, witches, and wardrobes; of tornados, munchkins, and wicked witches. But the rabbit hole you’ve fallen down has been nothing like those tumultuous journeys. Your days in the office are warm and lovely— far from the crazed rush of deadlines and youthful chase of dreams you were living out in university, but a quiet contentment, nonetheless. Over time, you find yourself growing attached to the new life you’ve built, to the new family you’ve found.

But the moment your head hits the pillow, it is the image of your family glued to the back of your eyelids. You see them worried sick about your disappearance, posting missing papers and wondering where you are, if you’ve become another statistic. (You don’t want to face the possibility that they may not be worried at all. That they may know exactly where you are, buried you there themselves.) For every smile and moment of laughter is a whisper in the back of your mind: Don’t you miss us? Don’t you miss home?

You invest all your guilt and spare energy into combing through the hoard of resources at your disposal. The reach of your information is almost endless, with Onychinus being the reigning authority in the N109 Zone (and secretly, some cities, too). Yet, there’s nothing. Your search feels futile, each failed lead adding to your ever-growing hopelessness.

During the day, no one would know any better; with how you hide your inner turmoil, composing yourself into your role as Sylus’s secretary. But your ghosts ambush you into the night. Nightmares plague you throughout your intermittent slumber, as you constantly arise from vivid memories of the accident and of your past life (of waking up and finding yourself six feet underground). Your anxieties have evolved from a restlessness to return to a growing fear of what might await you.

One night, you find yourself near-suffocating under plush sheets, thrashing as you dream of dirt piling on top of you. Sorrowful figures shoveling you into the ground and muffling your pleas, I'm here. I'm still here. Your terror carries over into reality, a scream leaving your throat as you jolt up in bed, once again finding the sight of the cityscape before you— now a source of comfort, rather than despair.

An imaginative mind is a gift at best, and haunts you at worst. You stumble as you leave your bed, heart racing and the fictional taste of dirt still in your mouth. You feel that you will vomit if you stay here, in sweat soaked sheets and stuffy air. So you grab a coat and make your way to the rooftop, where you find that someone had the same thought as you.

“Can’t sleep?” Sylus asks with his back turned, having sensed your presence before you could make yourself known.

You ignore his question, breathing in the dew and the early March air, breezing past even in the barren cityscape of the N109 Zone. “It's late, why aren’t you in bed?”

“Why aren’t you?” He retorts, scooting over in a silent invitation. You shiver as you take a seat beside him on the cold metal bench.

“It’s nothing, really,” You shake your head, voice trembling as you try to voice the terror that had taken over you, “Just nightmares, you know. They happen sometimes…”

Bathed under soft moonlight, he quietly admits, “I understand. I get them, too. I often find myself here when I can't go back to sleep, when it feels too stifling inside.”

“Before, I used to be mad at myself for falling asleep. I had to pull a lot of all-nighters for college, back then,” You explain, hitting your feet against the metal leg of the bench. “There were only so many hours in a day, but so much left to do… It’s ironic. Now that I want to sleep, I can't.” You laugh, but it’s hollow and empty.

“What is it that you dream about?”

You muse upon it, “Home. My family and friends. I dream of my childhood home a lot, but those are the good dreams. But then there are ones about all the things I'll need to catch up with at university, when I return,” Everything you have lost. Everything that was taken away from you. You laugh, thinking about it, “Those are the real nightmares. My to-do list is going to be taller than me once I get back. But what about you?”

A bittersweet smile paints his face, “Oh, the usual. Just about everything I've done wrong in my existence.”

You gasp dramatically, slamming a fist to your chest, “The great ole’ Sylus, ruler of all that breathes and crawls in the zone, feeling guilt?”

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He playfully rolls his eyes, before turning somber once again, “I feel regret, maybe, at what I could have done differently. Sometimes I dream of turning back time.” He dreams of his days inside the chapel, a short refuge within a terrible era of this world. Is it so wrong that he wishes to return to it? To live within that bubble of peace forever?

“That’s interesting. I don't know if anything would change if I could turn back time… I have a feeling I'd still be where I am.” Unease grows within you the more time passes. That however hard you try, you are bound to the direction you’re headed in. (That you have been for a while.)

The conversation settles into a comfortable silence, as the two of you gaze at the nocturne before you. You stare into the sea of lights glittering below, headlights and neon signs glowing within the city that never rests. They blur together, these lights. Soft colors of blue, green, red, growing ever duller until you find yourself falling back into a peaceful slumber.

—————————————————————

He sits in quiet tranquility, your slumbering figure resting on his shoulder, the smell of your shampoo overwhelming his senses. Once you’re sound asleep, he carries you back to your bedroom, careful not to disturb the long sought-for sleep you had just achieved.

What was once a potential threat is now precious cargo in his arms, muttering incomprehensible murmurs in her sleep. How can someone be so harmless and lovely? He thinks, brushing aside your stray wisps of hair. As he walks down the opulent halls of his home, he muses on how, like a storm rolling in, you have swept your way into his life. He lays you in your bed, tucking you gently underneath the cotton sheets.

It happens here, during the first breath of spring after winter, as he gazes upon your soft form. For the first time in a millennia, he feels the quiet stirrings of his heart, beating for something he cannot yet name.

—————————————————————

feel free to dm/comment on the series masterlist if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist 💕

taglist — @mangooes @mentaltrouble2201 @animegamerfox @w1nter-n1ght @crazy-ink-artist @phisen @jeondyy @t4naiis @wifunozomi @munimunni @blessdunrest @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @paintedperidot @mansonofmadness @pillarofsnow @sylususeyourevolonmepls @angelichiaro @mephisto-with-a-knife @crimsonmarabou @hikaru-sama @flamedancer13 @tati-the-fangirl @ameili @poptrim @caramelizedpopcirn @cupid-gene @vvonunie @miuraaaa12

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jinwoosbabyboo · 4 months ago

Note

Can you please do a hc of the guys helping you out after you come home tipsy(or drunk) from a girls night?

𝙿𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜

The lads men taking care of you after a girls night out. You came home drunk and you woke up with the worst hangover known to man. A/N: for this we’re going full messy drunk okay? great. cw: mentions of vomit/puke

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Coming home]

he picked you up after you drunk dialed him

drove on side roads so he could go slower so you wouldn’t get motion sickness

keeps your hair out of your face while you puke

listens to you ramble on and on about handsome he is and reminds you that you’re already dating him when you ask if he’s single

dodges you every time you try to kiss him in your drunken state ; does not care how fussy you get

let’s you hang on him like a koala while he removes your makeup and runs you a bath

tucks you into bed and holds you while you sleep

[The hangover]

has been checking on you periodically while you were passed out asleep the second you start to stir he grabs water and pain meds for your headache

in full doctor mode ; not gentle at all making you down two pills and a glass of water

left a trash can by the bed for you incase you vomitted overnight

spoons feeds you ginger chicken soup so you’re not digesting pain meds on an empty stomach ; doesn't leave until the whole bowl is gone

makes you lay on your side when you fall back asleep ; he doesn’t want you to choke one your own vomit

rubs your back while giving you a small lecture about drinking too much

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Coming home]

teases you about how you can’t hold your liquor

helps you take off your heels/shoes when you come stumbling through the door

picks you up carries you through the house while rubbing your back

is blushing furiously from your shameless flirting in your drunken state

sits you on the counter and holds your chin while he wipes your makeup off

finds it funny when you get fussy while he’s trying to take care of you “you’re so adorable”

strips you out of your current outfit and puts you in one of his shirts “You look better in my clothes anyway”

cradles you in his arms and has a trash can within reach if you have to puke

[The hangover]

has you laying on him while he reads a book when you wake up “good morning cutie does your head hurt?”

teases you again before kissing your forehead offering to get you food

“Come on you need a shower” carries you to the bathroom and showers with you ; dresses you in another one of his shirt again “you should just wear my clothes”

washes your face for you “I can do it Raf!” “I know you can, but let me take care of you”

wraps you up in the blanket like a burrito and carries you into his studio so he can keep an eye on you while he paints

gives you pain meds for your headache and orders or makes you whatever you want to eat

tells you all about your shameless flirting while you were drunk ; over exaggerates how he had to fight you off because you wanted him so bad

ends up laying on the couch with you instead of working on any of his projects

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Coming home]

woke up from his sleep when he heard you fumbling with the front door lock

fell to the floor with you on top of him when you stumbled through the door

concerned with how much you drank “Did you overdue it?” ; your giggles gave it away

is half sleep while he sits you on the counter and wipes your makeup off ; is unbelievably gentle while he does this

sits on the floor of the bathroom with you while you throw up ; stays like this with you until you start dozing off

rubs your back and wipes your mouth for you

grips you by the chin and lets you lean against him while he brushes your teeth

strips you down to your underwear and when you get too fussy for him he just lets you lay down like that

[The hangover]

is sitting up in bed when you wake up and immediately drags you into the shower ; towel dries you ; dresses you in his clothes and puts you back in bed

offers to cook you something ; orders takeout after the look you gave him

gives you pain meds after you get something in your stomach

lazy day with Xav naps, naps, and more naps

lazes around in bed all day with you

gets up to get you anything you ask for

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Coming home]

it’s night time so you know he’s in his element when you call him to come get you ; your night is ending and his day is just starting

picked you up from your girls night out ; promised to send Luke and Kieran for your car when you started throwing a fit about it

carries you bridal style through the house

already had a bath ready for you ; strips you out of your clothes and puts you in the tub

wraps you in a warm towel ; sits you on the counter ; puts your bonnet on you(or ties your hair back) ; wipes your makeup off and washes your face

doesn’t care how fussy you get when he’s trying to brush your teeth for you ; holds you in place with his evol “ahm roking(im choking)!” “You’re not choking sweetie spit”

lets you sleep in his lap and doesn’t care if you drool on him

[The hangover]

canceled everything to take care of you

him and the twins are at your beckoned call especially Sylus of course

gives you scalp massages

brings you a menu of foods that are good for hangovers ; watches you eat ; encourages one more bite before giving you some pain killers

teases you about your bratty fits you threw while you were drunk “it’s not that funny” “You’re adorable when you try to act angry” “im not acting!” “Whatever you say Princess”

if you have any body aches he’s giving you a massage

sits in bed with you letting you take naps on him ; once again he doesn’t mind you drooling on him

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 9 months ago

Text

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

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shy9-29 · 22 days ago

Text

Unfiltered | 이희승

idol 이희승 x idol yn

🍒 SOMAR𝒊O ─── Both you and Heeseung decide to go red. Later on, chaos is brought opon you two. 이희승 𝐱 𝑓. reader ✉️ wc. 3.1k ✶ careful ! skinship, kissing, death treats, etc 🔖 a/n. Thought about Heeseung and Giselle while writing this. Who else freaked at cochella?

You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, a cozy hoodie draped over your frame, a bowl of popcorn nestled between you and Heeseung. His phone is in one hand, the other absentmindedly playing with the edge of the blanket covering both your legs. The soft glow of the TV lights the room, but he’s not paying attention to the screen—his focus is all on the dozens of hair color inspo pics he’s scrolling through.

“Okay, hear me out,” Heeseung says, holding up his phone to show you a swipe of blonde cut. “This… for Cochella?”

You wrinkle your nose, tilting your head. “It’s cute, but didn’t you already go blonde?”

He sighs dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “That’s what I said! But Sunghoon said it would ‘bring out my eyes.’” He makes air quotes and a mock serious face that makes you giggle.

You lean in, tapping his screen. “What about this one?” A vibrant, fiery red catches your attention. “It’s bold. Different. You’d look hot.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Hot, huh?”

You bump his shoulder. “Don’t get cocky.”

But he’s already smiling at the idea, sitting up straighter. “Red’s kind of sick though. It could pop on stage, especially under the lights.”

You nod, brushing some popcorn salt off your fingers. “If you go red… I kinda want to, too. Not, like, matching-matching. Just… accidentally twinning.” You say it teasingly, but there’s a spark in your chest when he looks over at you with that playful glint in his eyes.

He shifts to face you fully, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind you. “Imagine the headlines,” he smirks. “‘Heeseung and Y/N cause chaos with matching red hair.’”

You laugh, not realizing just how close to the truth that prediction would soon be.

“Okay,” he says, voice low and warm, “red it is.”

You clink your popcorn bowls together like champagne glasses.

That night, under soft lights and between laughter, the two of you made a choice that seemed harmless—fun, even.

You had no idea it would become the beginning of everything.

The last couple of weeks have been nonstop—dance practices that go past midnight, vocal rehearsals, fittings, interviews, content shoots. Both your group g/n and Enhypen are in comeback season, which basically means “sleep is optional” and “personal time doesn’t exist.”

You and Heeseung had been texting here and there, sending each other exhausted selfies, complaining about sore muscles and choreo revisions. But meeting up? Impossible. Your schedules didn’t line up, and even when they almost did, something always came up.

It was late one night when you finally had a minute to breathe. You’d just finished another rehearsal, still in your practice clothes, hair tied up messily. You flopped onto your bed, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly when a notification lit up your screen.

[HEESEUNG is live] — Weverse

You sat up instantly.

Tapping in, the screen loaded to Heeseung sitting on the floor of what looked like the dorm’s living room, hoodie on, a black beanie pulled low over his head. Like, really low. Only a few strands of dark hair peeked out, and he kept adjusting it like he was nervous it’d fall off.

You smirked.

He’s hiding it.

You already knew. A few days ago, his texts had been full of half-panicked, half-excited messages about finally going red. “Bro it’s SO RED, I actually might be insane for doing this” was one of your favorites.

But seeing him now, live, trying so hard to hide it from Engenes—it was cute. Every time he turned his head a little too far, a hint of bright red peeked out, and he’d scramble to pull the beanie back down.

Comments were flying.

enhajvke: DID I JUST SEE RED?

heeseungswiife: Be honest rn… did u dye ur hair?

engenevroom: LEE HEESEUNG EXPLAIN THE FLASH OF COLOR

You bit back a laugh, watching him try to play it cool.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he said with the most suspicious tone ever, smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing. “It’s just cold in here.”

Yeah, right.

You watched the rest of the live with your chin propped on your hand, amused and weirdly proud. He looked good—cozy, playful, teasing the fans just enough without giving it all away.

And in your camera roll, your own red hair was glowing under the bathroom light. You hadn’t shown the world yours yet either.

Not yet.

But soon.

You didn’t really plan to go live. It just kind of… happened.

You had a rare evening off—no practice, no interviews, no schedules—and it felt weird. Like your body didn’t know how to sit still. So you pulled your hair up, threw on a simple white tank top and joggers, and flopped onto the floor of your room, your phone in hand. No makeup, no filters, no styling.

Just you.

And the new red hair.

You hit “Start Live” on Bubble, not thinking twice.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted softly, adjusting the camera. The chat instantly blew up. You leaned closer, tucking a strand of bright red behind your ear as the comments exploded.

annibeth3: THE HAIR???

jmmstud: Y/N WENT RED?!

gnnofan: wait, didnt heeseung go red too or am I tweaking?

You smiled. “What, this?” you teased, twirling a strand. “I just wanted something different.”

Your heart thudded as you saw the messages piling up, but you kept your tone light, calm. After all, it was just a coincidence… right?

You stretched out a bit on your floor, resting your weight on your elbows, the neckline of your tank dipping just a little as you chatted about practice, comeback prep, and snacks you’d been craving lately. Just normal stuff.

But your phone buzzed behind the scenes.

Heeseung [9:47PM]:

you look way too good right now.

like i’m tryna be respectful but wtf.

I miss you so fucking much yn I’m gonna crash out. The tank top is killing me

Your lips twitched into a smirk, a flush rising to your cheeks. You glanced at the camera for a second, then off to the side, biting back a laugh.

He was watching. Of course he was.

And even if the fans hadn’t fully caught on yet, your phone lighting up with his name while your red hair shimmered under the light—it made everything feel more electric.

They hadn’t noticed.

Yet.

You ended the live not long after that—heart racing, cheeks a little too warm, trying to keep your cool as you read Heeseung’s texts still sitting at the top of your screen.

The moment you were off camera, you opened the chat.

You [9:53PM]:

you’re literally the one who told me to go red too… what did you expect?

also it’s just a tank top calm down

Heeseung [9:54PM]:

“just a tank top” she says like she didn’t just destroy my entire willpower in 15 minutes

i’m calling you after this don’t ignore me.

You smiled, setting your phone down with a little shake of your head. You didn’t even realize how much you missed him until now—until the teasing texts and his dumb comments made your stomach flip again.

Surprisingly, the internet didn’t explode—at least not right away.

Despite your live and the not-so-subtle matching hair colors, fans didn’t fully put the pieces together. A few curious comments here and there, a couple of tweets questioning the timing, but nothing serious. No dating rumors. No trending hashtags. Just… peace.

It was almost suspicious how quiet everything was.

Which is exactly why, when both your schedules finally aligned, you and Heeseung jumped at the chance to film something together. His new song Loose had just dropped, and he’d been dying to do a challenge with you—especially now that you both had that bold red hair. A perfect opportunity, right? Fun, harmless, and definitely not suspicious.

The idea was simple: you’d meet at the HYBE building during a short break in both your days, sneak into one of the practice rooms, and film it quick. No couple-y energy, no obvious glances. Just vibes.

The best part? Both companies were fine with it.

There were no raised eyebrows from staff, no warnings. Since fans hadn’t really caught on, no one was worried. It was just a mutual collab between two popular idols—great for views, great for engagement. Enhypen’s team even offered to film it and post it straight to their official TikTok.

“Look professional,” Heeseung had joked, nudging you with his elbow as the staff counted down to record.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. The camera rolled. Music blasted. You both hit every beat, in sync, smiling, red hair flying as you danced side by side. The chemistry was obvious, but you figured fans would chalk it up to stage presence. They always did.

After it was done, you both took a couple of selfies—just for memories, nothing for posting—and then went your separate ways, promising to catch up more once promotions calmed down.

Neither of you opened the internet that night. No doom-scrolling. No comments. No TikTok rabbit holes.

You went to bed thinking everything was fine.

But the next morning?

The internet was on fire.

You woke up to your phone vibrating non-stop on your nightstand.

At first, you thought maybe it was just your manager or your group’s group chat buzzing about schedules—until you saw the notifications.

Twitter. TikTok. Instagram. Mentions. Tags. Trending.

You rubbed your eyes and squinted at your screen.

“THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER”

“NO CAUSE THEY’RE IN LOVE”

“THERE’S NO WAY THIS IS JUST FRIENDSHIP”

Your heart skipped. You sat up fast, blanket falling off your shoulders as you clicked on one of the top tweets. It was a screenshot—mid-frame from the dance challenge. Heeseung was looking at you. Not just looking—staring. And not just staring—smiling.

It wasn’t even subtle.

His eyes were soft, focused on you like the camera didn’t even exist. You hadn’t noticed it in the moment. But now? Paused in HD and blasted across every social platform?

Yeah. It was obvious.

And the comments were wild.

“The way he looked at her when she smiled?? Bye I’m sobbing.”

“You’re telling me that’s not love? Be serious.”

“What is my hee doing with yn 💔.”

“They’re so synced it’s actually suspicious.”

Even clips of the video were slowed down and edited with soft music, hearts, sparkles—fan edits were already flooding your FYP. And somehow, it wasn’t just your red hair people were talking about anymore.

It was the way your hands brushed.

The way your laugh slipped out at the end.

The way he couldn’t stop looking at you when you weren’t watching.

You opened your texts to find one from Heeseung already waiting.

Heeseung [8:04AM]:

we’re trending.

i think we just accidentally confessed.

…it’s kinda cute though.

You let out a breathy laugh, heart pounding.

This was no longer just a dance challenge.

It was the start of chaos—and the world was officially watching.

Within hours, the chaos went from loud to explosive.

The original TikTok—the now-infamous Loose challenge featuring you and Heeseung—disappeared. Gone. No warning. No explanation. Just poof.

You hadn’t even known until fans started posting screen recordings, saying things like:

“Wait… why did they delete the challenge???”

“This is suspicious as hell now.”

“They just made it worse by deleting it.”

“Enhypen’s staff really fumbled this one.”

It was everywhere. The deletion only made people more convinced something was going on. What could’ve passed as a fun collab between two idols now looked like a cover-up. Some fans tried to keep things calm, tweeting things like:

“It’s just a dance challenge, don’t be weird.”

“They probably deleted it because people were overreacting.”

“Red hair doesn’t equal dating, omg.”

But the other side of the internet was spiraling.

Speculation threads popped up. Fan accounts were digging through past interactions, award show clips, music bank moments—anything that could “prove” you and Heeseung were together. Some fans even started pulling screenshots from lives, making timelines.

And then the hate started.

Under your posts. On your lives. In your DMs. Comments calling you “attention-seeking,” saying you were “ruining his image,” accusing you of “using him for clout.” Some even turned on him—saying he was being “reckless,” or “leading fans on.”

It stung. Even though you told yourself it came with the job, it still hurt.

You stayed quiet. So did Heeseung. The companies didn’t say anything either—not yet.

But behind the scenes, your phone was buzzing nonstop.

Heeseung [10:12AM]:

…they deleted it.

i didn’t know they were gonna do that.

are you okay?

You stared at his message, fingers hovering over your screen.

Were you okay?

You weren’t sure. You’d just wanted to dance. To match hair for fun. To be with someone you liked without setting the internet on fire.

But here you were—burning in it anyway.

It got worse. So much worse.

The deleted video didn’t just spark curiosity—it set off a wildfire. What had started as playful fan theories turned into full-blown obsession. And then, into something ugly.

You tried to stay off your phone. Tried to focus on your group’s comeback, the rehearsals, the endless days in the studio. But the comments found you anyway.

Under your recent posts. Flooding your lives. Drowning your mentions.

“It should’ve been me, not Y/N.”

“She doesn’t deserve him.”

“Y/N is ruining his career.”

“She’s not even that talented—she’s just lucky.”

“Break up before your fandom turns on you.”

“I swear if I see them together again—”

And then came the threats.

Disguised as jokes at first. Then full-on direct messages.

“Watch your back.”

“I could dox you at any moment.”

“Hope your company knows they can’t protect you forever.”

You didn’t cry, but your hands shook when you showed your manager. He took your phone without saying anything and made a call.

Later that night, Heeseung texted you.

Heeseung [11:28PM]:

i hate this.

i didn’t think it’d go this far.

you don’t deserve this.

Neither of you had expected it. The hate, the pressure, the firestorm just for dancing together. For matching hair. For being a little too obvious about feelings that weren’t meant to be a secret in the first place.

You wanted to tell him it was okay. That you were fine.

But you weren’t.

And apparently, your companies knew it too.

Because the next day, both HYBE and JYP released simultaneous statements.

Simple. Direct. Unapologetic.

“After confirming with the artists, it is true that Enhypen’s Heeseung and g/n’s Y/N are currently in a relationship.

We ask for your support and understanding. Please continue to respect both artists’ privacy moving forward.”

And just like that—the secret was out.

No more hiding.

No more dancing around rumors.

No more pretending red hair was a coincidence.

It was real. It was official. And the whole world knew it.

You were on set for a music show taping when the news dropped.

One second, you were touching up your lip gloss. The next, one of your members walked in holding her phone out with wide eyes.

“They did it,” she said. “It’s official.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

She tilted the screen toward you. There it was. Both companies, side by side, names bolded in black and white. Confirmation.

You let out a breath, sat back in the chair, and shrugged. “Huh. About time.”

No panic. No tears. Just… finally.

Your group’s stylists didn’t say anything. They just nodded and kept working. Honestly, everyone around you kind of expected it already. Nothing about it felt shocking. Even the staff had started side-eyeing the sudden hair changes and locked-door dance rehearsals weeks ago.

Meanwhile, Heeseung texted you mid-makeup.

Heeseung [3:11PM]:

well that’s one way to go public lol

guess we’re official official now huh

You [3:12PM]:

yup

they really waited until we couldn’t say anything back lmao

Heeseung [3:12PM]:

i kinda like it though

now i can look at you on camera without pretending you’re just my “idol friend” lol

You smiled, totally unbothered.

You’d both been through this industry long enough to know how it worked. The hate came and went. The rumors always found new targets. Right now it was you two—but give it a month and the internet would be busy with someone else’s business.

Until then?

You had red hair, a comeback stage, and a very official boyfriend who’d just sent you a selfie with a wink and the caption:

“Guess I’m your problem now.”

Once the news was out, the freedom hit immediately.

You didn’t even bother trying to be subtle anymore. Heeseung followed you on Instagram the same day the statements dropped—no sneaky burner accounts, no “oops I liked it by mistake.” Just straight-up, public, followed. And you followed him back within minutes.

The fans noticed, of course.

“Heeseung followed Y/N??”

“NO CAUSE THEY’RE BEING BOLD NOW.”

“this is highkey iconic behavior tbh”

A few hours later, Heeseung posted a story. A blurry pic of two iced americanos on a café table, one with red nail polish wrapped around the cup. No tags. No captions. Just vibes.

Then you posted a carousel that same evening. The fourth photo? A mirror selfie of you in a hoodie way too big to be yours—sleeves swallowing your hands, the drawstrings hanging low.

Fans put two and two together. Fast.

And you didn’t deny it.

Over the next few weeks, you shared more—still casual, still lowkey, but just enough to send fans into a frenzy every time.

A photo of matching sneakers outside a ramen shop.

A story of two sets of chopsticks over tteokbokki with a soft little “date night” caption.

A boomerang of your hand tugging down a familiar beanie (yeah, that beanie) with the words: “stealing again.”

Comments were mixed, but you both ignored the noise.

You were two idols in love, no longer hiding in dance studios or behind blurry livestreams. And honestly? It felt kind of fun to finally live it loud.

The months that followed were chaotic, hilarious, and—honestly—kinda fun.

Sure, the initial firestorm was loud. Fans debated, haters barked, and your DMs stayed unhinged for a while. But eventually, like all things in idol world, the noise dulled. The shock wore off. People moved on.

And you and Heeseung?

You kept living.

Performing your comebacks, doing variety shows, sneaking glances across music show stages that were no longer that sneaky. You posted what you wanted, shared what you liked, and smiled a little wider every time someone commented:

“They’re actually so cute together.”

“I was a hater at first but now I’m obsessed.”

“Red hair couple supremacy.”

By the time festival season rolled around, your hair was a different color. His too. But everyone still remembered that red era. The hair, the challenge, the way he looked at you like no one else existed.

From a couch conversation to a viral storm—who knew red dye and a beanie would spark all this?

But now, none of it had to be secret.

No sneaking around. No deleting videos. Just you, Heeseung, and whatever came next.

And if the world wasn’t ready?

Too bad. You were already in it. Together.

here to be added to permanent tag list - req open

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bloggerspam · 14 days ago

Text

Not Exactly the Apple of my Eye

I wrote this for the @haunting-heroes-creative-games WWT Myths game last month, and subsequently co-won my first game!

Figured I'd post it here too, now that all the reveals have happened---have a DPxYJ/DPxDC Snow White AU Crack fic!

===

"You gotta be kidding me," Kon says as he looks down at himself, "this can't be real, right?"

"Feels pretty real to me!" Bart chirps happily, fiddling with his overly large green sleeves.

"Rad." Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and popping his hip and yawning like a disgruntled cat. Sarcasm practically drips from every orifice of his body language, even as he looks 2 seconds away from falling asleep.

"Is this what I think it is?" Cassie yells from further into the room, the sound of a small clamor echoing behind her words.

"If by it you mean some kind of inter-dimensional fucky wucky, then yeah!" Kon waves his arms around, gesturing to the room at large even if she can't see; Tim and Bart can, and that's all that matters. "I think so!"

"No, I mean is this Snow White?" Cassie clarifies as she comes huffing into the room. She too is adjusting her clothes as best she can, trying to figure out what to do with the glasses suddenly on her face.

The four of them stand gathered in the middle of the cottage they've been dumped into, freshly shrunken in height, stripped of their powers and gadgets and suits, and dressed in what seems to be simple cotton peasant shirts and work leggings.

They also have comically large and weirdly soft and sturdy leather shoes, of the Snow White Dwarf variety.

"Aren't there supposed to be seven of us?" Tim mumbles thoughtfully, another yawn causing him to slump and looking mad about it.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Kon huffs, picking up Tim with very little resistance for once and dumping the yawning boy onto a bed labelled Sleepy. Kon himself grumbles as he takes a seat on the next bed over labelled Grumpy.

An angry Kryptonian is not a great idea. Who let this be okay?

"I'm not calm about this…" Tim yawns once more, irritated, "I just can't think straight, I'm too tired."

"You don't sleep on a daily basis though?" Bart walks his way to his own bed, labeled Dopey and test bouncing it. "But it seems fitting at least. Plus, You're not straight anyway. Who's Cassie supposed to be?"

"Doc, I think." Cassie goes to her own bed, looking at it dubiously before deciding to ignore it completely. "He's the only one with glasses right?"

"That…" Tim is curled up on his side now, "still…doesn't answer…"

Soft snores start to drift through the room, another anomaly, considering Tim doesn't actually snore.

"What did the genie lady say?" Bart starfishes on his bed, making snow angels with no snow, "This is all because you decided to hit on her anyway."

"How was I supposed to know?!" Kon angrily pulls the covers off his bed to dump over Tim. "All I said was that she was pretty!"

Before anybody else can say anything, there's another clatter outside the cottage.

"Seriously!?" A voice screams, "Seriously?! Three years and you-" A violent sneeze interrupts the voice—"-still make fucking wishes?"

A small murmur answers the voice, barely audible.

Kon, Cassie and Bart look at each other, before scrambling over to the door. Tim stays dead asleep. When they burst out, tumbling over each other, they're met with the other three dwarves: A young gothic looking girl who keeps sneezing, an African American boy hiding behind another boy with a bedsheet of all things tied around his neck like a cape. The caped boy, with his black hair and blue eyes, looks like he's trying to be a knock off superman.

Kon does not like that. At all.

"Hey!" Rao, it's like he has no control over his temper, "Were you guys fucked over by the genie lady too?"

"Language~" Bart singsongs, giggling. The gothic girl whirls towards them, angry like spitfire, and sneezing just as violently.

"Hello, citizens!" Super-knock-off intones, "What brings you into the ill graces of Desiree?"

"If by Desiree you mean the genie lady," Cassie jabs a thumb at him, "then this guy hit on her."

"O-oh," The shy boy still hiding behind Super-knock-off is blushing hard enough that Kon can see it even with his darker skin, "w-wow, you're pretty…"

"Thanks!" Cassie smiles, winking at him. "The ladies love it, anyway."

The boy squeaks, hiding behind super-knock-off again. Goth-girl rolls her eyes before addressing Cassie.

"Desiree hates that-" a sneeze, "-kind of shit." Goth-girl rubs her nose, to which the bashful boy passes her a tissue from his backpack as if dealing with a rabid animal. The girl takes it with a scoff-turned-sneeze.

"Figured." Cassie shrugs, waving to herself. "I'm Cassie, by the way. Grumpy over here is Connor, and Cutie Pie down here is Bart."

Kon huffs, waving begrudgingly as Bart does a happy little wave.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Danny!" Super-knock off puffs out his chest, before gesturing to the once more sneezing Goth. "This is Sam, and behind me is Tucker!"

"We're not—usually like this." Sam sniffles, sneezing between pauses, "Danny's usually more chill, and Tucker's not this—shy. But if my—math is mathing, it's because—of the dwarf traits."

"Why does being Happy make him so…" Kon sneers, "Do-goodey?"

"Long story. We call him Super Danny in this state." Tucker smiles, peeking out a little more, "Fun Danny was better."

"Hey!" Danny wraps an arm around his friend to bring him up to the forefront, causing Tucker to squeak. "Super Danny had his moments!"

"Where's-" Sam sneezes four times in a row, "-Sleepy?"

"Our friend Tim." Bart gestures towards inside the house, "He's napping in one of the beds inside. He's usually an insomniac, so this is actually pretty great!"

"So," Cassie gets them back on track as they all convene around a sleeping Tim. "Do you guys know how to escape?"

"That is difficult," Danny hums, patting at Tucker who seems to be taking deep breaths to overcome his shyness. Kon tries to follow suit, to temper himself. "Did you perhaps make a wish when hitting on Desiree?"

Kon felt his face go blotchy red, rubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand and looking away.

"Connor." Cassie's voice goes threatening, hands on her hips like a mom scolding a child.

"All I said was Move over Snow White, 'cause you're truly the fairest in the land!" Kon grumbles, crossing his arms. "And that she made me all Bashful, or whatever! I didn't wish for anything!"

"All I did was wish Sam would lighten up," Tucker scratches the back of his neck, inching closer to Danny when Sam bears her teeth. "Normally Desiree would just make Sam glow, or something."

"Who is Desiree anyway?" Bart starts to frown down at himself, rubbing his tummy absentmindedly. "We were just having lunch with Tim's brother-"

Suddenly Kon, Cassie and Bart whip their heads towards each other, exclaiming at the same time: "Dick!"

"Language?" Tucker, who had startled at the sudden yelling and is firmly hiding behind Danny again.

"No, Tim's brother, Richard—he goes by Dick." Cassie explains as the three of them separate to look under furniture and through the house for the older man. They collectively ignore the whispered on purpose? from the other trio.

"He was with us when we got snapped here." Tim yawns, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "Who are you?"

The new trio introduces themselves to Tim as the rest of them split. Kon is looking under the beds, Bart is upstairs, and Cassie is opening cabinets in the kitchen, if the sounds are to be believed.

"This doesn't really feel like Desiree's usual fare." Sam taps her foot, for some reason the only dwarf who was able to keep her own black studded combat boots. It looks comical paired with her brown shirt and red pants. At least the black belt matches?

"How would you," Tim yawns, standing up and leaning heavily against Kon when he comes back around. "Usually…get rid of her?"

"Usually Phantom would deal with her." Tucker mumbles as Sam starts to pace. She's no longer sneezing now that they're inside, which seems odd.

"Who's Phantom?" Bart's voice bounces as he descends the stairs back to join them. "He's not upstairs, by the way."

"He's Amity Park's local hero!" Danny flashes a gleaming smile, before frowning. "Truly a mystery why she's hanging out around Bludhaven."

"What were you guys-" Kon is interrupted by Sam, who knocks twice on the window she's stopped in front of.

"Uh, guys?" She's staring at something confusedly, "Is Dick…uh, black haired, wearing eye-searingly ugly patterns?"

"That's…" Tim yawns again, sluggishly making his way over to Sam, "probably…him."

"I think he's in the backyard?" Sam tilts her head, "and I think we've found our Snow White."

The seven of them gather quickly around the window, pushing and shoving and…

"Is that a fucking glass coffin?"

===

Jazz has fucked up.

Oooooh she's definitely fucked up.

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer and Desiree just wanted to hang out?

How was she supposed to know that Desiree's cousin was Scheherazade?

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer knew that infamous One Thousand and One Night's protagonist?

She just wanted to finally meet her online friend and talk about Jane Austen books, have dinner with her brother and his friends in Bludhaven after!

She really should have aimed better. Stupid thermos, Danny always made it seem so easy!

Now she's running around in this random forest trying to find her brother and his friends dressed like some kind of Prince.

Why do Princes wear such white tights? It's impractical is what it is, there's already a bunch of dirt on the back of her calves!

She's been in this forest for what feels like hours when she hears it; sweet salvation in the form of other people. Jazz frantically makes her way towards it.

"—Snow White?" A boyish voice asks.

"Well, he's certainly—achoo!—pretty enough for it." Sam is saying—is she with the others? "Even with all…that going on."

"At least Danny isn't in the coffin this time?" Tucker sounds unusually shy and timid—it makes Jazz quicken her steps and almost trip over tree roots at least twice.

"Hey—" An unfamiliar feminine voice cuts in, "Tucker, what does that mean?"

"Worry not, Cassie!" Danny! Oh sweet souls, Danny!! "It's an inside joke!"

"It's not really funny…" Another voice, sounding sleepy beyond compare and yawning like a "…is it?"

"Believe it or not," The mysterious feminine voice, Cassie cuts in. "He's usually the one in charge of the brain-cell. We're smart too, he just has no humor."

"I…" Another yawn, "...resent that."

"Tim just doesn't have that sense of whimsy!" That first boyish voice cuts in, ignoring who Jazz presumes is Tim.

"Does that mean we have to find a Prince?" Another masculine voice, angry and fed up, "In the forest?"

And, well, there's never been a better time for Jazz to stumble ass over kettle into the clearing.

"Jazz!" Her trio yells in greeting, rushing over to her as she rights herself. She blinks.

They're all…a lot smaller than she left them. No matter, hugs first, confusion later. (And crying/yelling much much later after that).

They're small enough for her to hoist all three into her arms, even as she notices the other four dwarves and the…glass coffin housing a fully grown man.

"What the—" Jazz whispers, eyeing the strangers.

"Are you the Prince?" Danny asks, and in this form he reminds her so much of when he was little—she wants to squeal but she won't, she won't.

"I think I am." Jazz answers, putting everyone down as they clamor to introduce the new kids and update her on the situation. Jazz, through years of dealing with her brother's trio, manages to understand and reciprocate the exchange of information.

"So I have to kiss him?" Jazz looks at the man, Dick, in the glass coffin dubiously. "I don't even know him?"

"This might be the first time someone's seen him and not kissed him on sight." Bart jokes, "Or, at least, not wanted to."

"Consent is important." Jazz scrunches up her face in consternation. "I will not subject someone to a kiss when they cannot consent."

"What about a kiss on the…hand?" Tim yawns, desperately trying to stay awake. "Nobody…said you had to kiss him on the…lips."

Jazz makes a face in thought. Hm. "What about you?"

"What…about me?" Jazz gestures at Dick when Tim looks at her in confusion.

"He's your brother, you love him, right?" Jazz picks up the sleeping man's hand. "Nobody said it had to be romantic love. Besides, again, I don't believe in love at first sight. I'm demi."

"Demi like, demigod?" Cassie's brow furrows. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Demi as in demi-sexual or-" Sam sneezes, "-demi-romantic."

Tim seems to think on that a moment, before shrugging. "I do love him. And I used to have a crush on him when I was little, before I got adopted." He picks up the hand and kisses it lightly.

"Oh dude, same." Connor laughs, turning to them. "I think everyone's had a crush on Dick before."

"Not me!" Cassie harrumphs to Bart's laughter and agreement. "Though I do love the guy."

"That doesn't count!" Connor huffs, "Lesbians and Aces are obviously excluded!"

"I'm Ace…" Tucker shyly raises his hand, making a little eep! sound when everyone turns to him. "And I, uhm, have eyes. He's real pretty…"

"Fairest of them all," Sam sniffles, sort of agreeing. "And all that."

"I think," Danny cuts in, "That you have no choice here Jazz. I'm sorry, but it doesn't seem like Tim's kiss is the solution!"

Jazz eyes the sleeping man once more, pursing her lips. No, she really doesn't think she'll do that. Pretty as he is, he's a stranger. And bodily autonomy is important, even if it's just his hand. It sounds like this guy has a lot of admirers, but nobody's actually said anything about how Dick himself feels about it.

Plus, he definitely looks at least a couple years older than her. Though it's hard to tell when you're in your mid twenties.

"Just think of it this way, Jazz." Danny tries to gently say, "You're saving his life, sort of. Like CPR."

Jazz hums, leaning over the man and observing the man's throat. Hm...

"What's she taking so long for?" Cassie whispers, to which Sam only sneezes in response.

Jazz grabs the man by the shoulders, sitting him up and…whack!

"Jazz!" The chorus of children yell at her, some even grabbing at her but she ignores them.

She gives the man's back another smack! And then another, and another until—

Hack! Dick coughs out the piece of poisoned apple lodged in his throat, taking in deep breaths as Jazz rubs his back in support.

"Th-thanks." Dick wipes at his mouth, smiling up gratefully at Jazz. She smiles back, before stepping away to let Tim and his little friends crowd over Dick and give him hugs.

Sam, Tucker and Danny make their way to Jazz, and they watch the reunion fondly.

"How'd you know that would work?" Danny asks her, laughing as Jazz shrugs.

"In the original fairy tale, the Prince discovers Snow White in her glass coffin and decides to keep her because she's so beautiful." Jazz bares her teeth in disgust. "The guards that were with him were kind of clumsy and dropped the casket on its corner, dislodging the apple piece from Snow White's throat. She wakes up, and then they get married."

"That's…" Tucker whispers, shuddering.

"Yeah." Jazz rubs her arms. "Figured I'd give it a shot. Thankfully it worked."

Just as Dick gets out of the coffin, the world around them starts to waver. The dwarven teenagers flicker until they're bigger, almost glitching into their original sizes and proportions. Sam stops sneezing, Tim stops yawning and falling asleep (though he still sports eyebags the size of Guam), and Danny's little blanket sheet disappears.

Jazz, Dick, and seven 17 year olds suddenly find themselves in the middle of the streets of Bludhaven, in the outdoor seating of the local restaurant all of them were eating at before the whole debacle.

Ghost Writer and Desiree are sitting at one of the tables, having tea.

"Well, that was certainly quick." Ghost Writer mumbles, Desiree groaning as she puts down her cup. "I thought we'd have at least a couple more hours."

"I knew I shouldn't have set win conditions." Desiree pouts. "We were just getting to the good part!"

"Every story has to have some kind of conclusion." Ghost Writer argues, jabbing his mug at her. "Besides, I can just-"

"Yeah. Nope." Danny deadpans, grabbing his backpack and jabbing a hand into the bag. "Fuck you."

Before Ghost Writer Desiree can do more than charge an ecto-blast, Danny pulls out a Fenton Thermos and aims it expertly at the two, sucking them up with very little fuss and muss. Jazz is not jealous or mad about it. At all.

As long as she doesn't have to wear those stupid white tights again, everything is A-OK.

"Well." Dick breathes, putting his hands on his hips like some kind of mom. "That was...anti-climactic."

"What the hell was that?" Tim asks Danny, trying to get a closer look at the thermos, "Is that a thermos?"

Jazz looks up at the restaurant, waving over a sever as she takes a seat and beckons for everyone else to do the same. The others start to squish in a couple tables and take seats.

"I'm sure everyone has questions," Jazz smiles up at the waitress in thanks as she passes out menus. "But first, since it's still…" She checks her watch, "just past three, lets have a late lunch, shall we?"

"As long as there's no apple pie for dessert." Dick laughs, opening up his own menu to peruse.

"As you wish!" Jazz rolls her eyes, grinning. Everyone at the table groans.

#danny phantom #young justice #core four #snow white au #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #my writing #dick grayson #jazz fenton #everlasting trio

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strwbabydoll · 6 months ago

Text

The Feeling Came Late (I’m Still Glad I Met You)

pairings: grumpy!college student! Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 2/? (wc: 3.4k)

masterlist

001 | 01 | 02

- - - -

Chapter 2: Surprise, Surprise

Harry wakes up to the sound of his phone dinging and he grumbles as he sits up and stretches. He looks around and stops his tired gaze at the small window next to his bed. It's dark with just a hint of sunlight beginning to cut through the glass windows, this is definitely not the scenery he's used to when he awakes from his slumber. Groggily he grabs his phone with one hand and rubs his left eye with the other, turns on the phone and hisses as he squints.

He quickly turns the brightness of the screen down to a manageable setting and mumbles under his breath when he sees it's a little past six in the morning.

"Who the fuck is awake right now and why are they trying to talk to me. Someone better be fucking dying." The message is from an unknown number, the numbers staring at him tauntingly.

///

Unknown: hey. it's y/n. i got your number from principal Oscar. lmk whenever works best for you and i'll do my best to arrange my schedule otherwise! :)

— — —

He grumbles once more about the timing of the text and stares at the screen trying to think of an appropriate response. He could and absolutely wants to just leave her on read and never talk to her again. That seems like the most appropriate since she interrupted his sleep, why is she even up this early? But maybe he should show a sliver of compassion and reply to the text briefly before going back to sleep.

He decides on not texting back, simply because all this thinking of replying, responses and times is making his head hurt, so he sets his phone back onto the small wooden table beside his bed and clambers back into the warm cocoon of his blankets. Wrapping himself in the thick blanket, he sighs blissfully as his head relaxes into the soft cushiony bed. He begins to close his eyes and go back to sleep, the pleasant warm feeling of sleep very quickly approaching him.

Just as soon as he gets comfortable and almost falls asleep, his phone dings once more. He grumbles as he throws the blanket off of him and grabs his phone once again. The same numbers teasing him as another text comes through.

///

Unknown: this is harry right? i'm so sorry if this isn't!

////

He rolls his eyes as he mumbles, his fingers typing away on the keyboard as he sends his response.

Harry: Yes, it's me. In case you haven't noticed, it's five in the morning. I was asleep.

///

He gets a response almost immediately, as if she was staying in the chat waiting for a response.

Unknown: yes i know! why are you still sleep? i like to get my day started early!

Harry: Because no one in their right mind is up this early.

Unknown: sorry for waking you! just wanted to see what times and days work best for you. :)

Harry: Give me a couple hours.

Unknown: okay! have a good nap! :)

— — —

He mumbles again as he sets his phone grumpily back on the table, wrapping himself back into his blanket just to find it's not as warm anymore. He mutters under his breath, silently complaining about her up so early and choosing to annoy him so early as well, and to top it off she made him lose the warmth of his blankets. He wraps himself up in the blanket and lays back down, resting his head on the soft pillow as he closes his eyes.

Opening his eyes once more a couple hours later, he gets up and stretches once again. The muscles in his back pops smoothly and he groans softly. He gets out of his bed and quickly makes his bed, wrinkles sit in the middle of the blanket as he sets his pillow on top, but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels much better after getting another couple hours of sleep.

He heads into the bathroom and relieves his bladder, sighing in relief as it empties. Shutting the lid down, he flushes the toilet and heads to the sink so he can wash his hands. After he's finished, he brushes his hair and puts it in a man bun.

Walking over to the small dresser where he keeps his clothes, he opens his needed drawers and pulls out an outfit. Settling on a white Rolling Stones t-shirt and some black skinny jeans, he gets dressed and makes sure he puts on his signature rings. Once he's done with that, he sprays his Tom Ford cologne and grabs his phone, responding to the very few notifications he does have and stares at Y/N's name in his message list.

Her simple text stares at him, somehow politely demanding a response from a couple hours ago. He huffs and mutters 'fucks sake' under his breath as he clicks on it and begins to type out his response.

///

Harry: I'm available anytime

///

Not too long after, just long enough for him to set his phone in his pocket and slip on his brown Chelsea boots, his phone dings.

///

Y/N: okay! um how about tomorrow around 6 at the library?

— — —

Harry laughs dryly at her enthusiasm as he sends a plain thumbs up, the yellow emoji a stark contrast in the very one sided text conversation, and afterwards he heads out the small bedroom in his dorm and heads to the front door. He passes the various pictures of his roommate and his girlfriend and a couple of pictures showcasing his orange kitten, Delilah, in various moments. She was wrapped up in a soft towel from the day Harry brought her home, and other moments where he thought she looked pretty and decided to capture the moment.

All the pictures are neatly hung in a long cardboard frame, colorful tacks adding a pop of color to the otherwise boring wall of pictures. The small hallway leads to a basic living room, a simple gray futon sits alongside the cream colored wall with a modern artistic sketch hanging above it, a dark brown bookshelf holding all their movies and the very few books and textbooks they happen to own is placed next to the futon, and a small dresser underneath a decently sized tv.

In the corner of the living room area sits a small gray cat bed and Delilah lays there peacefully sleeping in a little ball, her tail twitching occasionally. The ends of Harry's lips begin to curl upwards at the sight as he slowly walks over to the small dresser designated just for her. He silently opens the top drawer and opens the small can containing her food. The smell quickly floods his nose and he grimaces as he walks over to her food bowl and pouring it in there, silently gagging as it squelches into the bowl.

He throws away the now empty can in the small trash can and grabs her water bowl walking over to the dresser once again and fills it with a small water bottle sitting in the top drawer. He sets it down beside the food one carefully because he doesn't feel like cleaning up water right now and walks back to the dresser. He opens the second one and grabs a few of her favorite toys and sets them under the coffee table in the living room, allowing her something to do while he's gone and turns on the tv. Quickly pulling up her favorite tv show - Animal Planet - he walks over to her and very gently rubs the top of her head. He coos at her softly to coax the sleepy kitten awake.

Delilah stretches and yawns as she opens her eyes, focusing on Harry crouching above her, she lets out a tired but happy meow as she nuzzles her face into Harry's hand.

"Good morning, sweet girl. I gotta get to school but you got everything set up for you, just how you like. I love you and I'll be back soon." He says with a small laugh as he gives the small kitten a couple extra pets and gets back up, stretching slightly as he heads to the door, making sure to grab his signature leather jacket from the futon as he opens the door and heads out.

— — —

It doesn't take him long to head to the campus thanks to his dorm being a short drive from the campus. He parks his car in an empty space nearest the school and he sits in the car after he turns it off. He watches her as she walks to the bike rack, her long hair flowing gently behind her as she walks due to the wind blowing. She's dressed in an olive green sweater and dark blue Levi pants that flare at the end, she'd pair it with some white Nike Air Forces, a medium sized white tote bag and a matching olive green thin belt, he can see the small shimmer of her jewelry shine when the sun hits it as she ties her bike to the small rack.

He turns the key to shut off his car and opens the door, slowly stepping outside the car as he puts on his jacket. He closes the door with a soft slam and locks it, the beep alerting the girl as she turns around, her hair briefly swishing in front of her face as she turns. He watches as she frowns in anticipation of a snarky remark but returns to normal when it doesn't happen. He slowly makes his way to the entrance, purposely avoiding eye contact with her as he grows closer. He hopes she gets the hint to leave him the hell alone, and wants to keep their interactions to an absolute minimum.

"Hey!" He hears her voice ring out from behind her but his pace doesn't falter, he actually starts walking just a tad bit faster in an attempt to get inside before she reaches him. He makes it to the top of the steps before he feels a soft hand grip his shoulder and a tug, signaling him to turn around. He slowly turns around, face deadpanned and he takes a deep breath.

"What?"

"Any place specific you want to meet in the library?" She asks softly and he shakes his head as he turns around swiftly and starts his journey into the school once again. He can feel her presence behind him and his frown begins to form.

He chooses to ignore her as they walk, the chatter of the other students in the hall filling their ears as they continue. One of Harry's friends, Alex, walks up to Harry with a big smile as he pays his shoulder and glares at Y/N.

"How you doin' Haz?" He asks and Harry's frown only deepens at the unwanted conversation.

"Not now Alex." He shakes his head as he heads to his locker. He can hear Alex scoff as he walks away but he can still feel her presence behind him.

He scoffs lightly as he gets to his locker, one ringed hand reaching up to twist the little knob to the correct numbers and opens the door. He quickly grabs a textbook and slams it shut and he walks away, leaving a hurt and confused Y/N standing at the locker.

— — —

She can't help but frown at Harry's more than usual grumpy behavior as she heads to her own locker, true enough she was the main reason why he's so grumpy but honestly how was she to know he’d still be sleeping? It’s not her fault that she just loves helping people! She should know better than to assume they'd be friends simply because she's tutoring him, but she assumed they'd at least be better than this. She hoped he would be somewhat tolerable, a very silly thought of hers because when is he ever tolerable? She doesn’t know how it came to be this way. She can remember a time where the two of them were cordial and even dared to say the best of friends, but then something changed and she wishes she knew what it was.

She wishes she could just go back in time and watch the two of them under a microscope to see what went wrong, to figure out why he hates her. She misses him terribly, but that’s kept locked away in a box of her feelings and emotions never to be seen again alongside her favorite childhood memories.

She huffs in frustration when she can't get the lock to open, her combination not seeming to work as she twists and twists. She swears it's the right one, so she tries once more and she's met with once again the lock not opening.

"Come on!" She huffs as she stares at the lock intently. Beginning to think that maybe she changed the lock combination, she tries a different sequence of the same numbers and after a couple of tries she finally hears the satisfying click as the lock opens.

She quickly grabs the textbooks for her first two classes and shuts it gently as she walks to her first class, her tote bag gently bouncing off her hip as she walks. She just barely makes it to her first class before the teacher closes the door, her hand pushing on the tall wooden door as she cries out 'wait please!' The door opens and she sees the teacher smile softly as he lets her in.

"Just in time Y/N, have a seat." He says and she nods silently, with her head down she quietly makes her way over to an empty seat towards the back of the class. Grabbing her notebook and a pen out of her bag, she begins to write down the title of the notes she's gonna be taking and pulls her assignment due from the front of the notebook as well.

— — —

Time seems to fly in front of her eyes, the day taking not nearly as long as it usually feels like as she gets released from her last class of the day. With a smile on her face, she plugs her earbuds in her phone as she walks through the halls, stopping briefly to answer any questions from her classmates and to wave goodbye to her teachers.

She spots Harry talking to a pretty brunette, one of more popular girls who also happens to be on the cheerleading team she thinks, her lips pulled back into a dazzling smile as she twirls her hair around her finger as she speaks. Hesitantly, she makes her way over and taps him on the shoulder, meekly saying 'excuse me' and she's greeted with a very nasty glare from the girl.

"Um, we're talking." The girl says with a frown on her face. Y/N can't help the flush of embarrassment that begins to heat her cheeks up as she looks down.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to remind Harry of the library. It's at six, if you can't make it or gonna be late, just let me know." Y/N's voice comes out quietly as she speaks, her hands subconsciously moving to her front as she begins to play with her fingers.

Harry lets out a very unenthusiastic 'uh huh' as his eyes never leave the brunette's and he begins to talk to her once more, completely ignoring the other girl behind him as the brunette smirks and plays with the collar of his t-shirt. When she realizes that he isn't paying attention, she frowns slightly before making her way out of the school building as music plays in her ears.

She mumbles curses to Harry under her breath as she unties her bike and sets the cord in her bag. Hopping on her bike, she begins her ride back to her apartment. She smiles as she passes the cars and families out and about, their joy and love radiating off of them making her smile and aw. As she continues biking, she makes a quick stop at her favorite flower shop, propping her bike against the side of the store and she quickly walks in. The smell of all the flowers welcome her warmly as well as the bright smile of the lady standing behind the counter.

"Y/N! So good to see you! How've you been?" She asks and Y/N smiles as she walks up to the counter.

"Hi Tameka! I'm good, how are you?" Y/N asks and Tameka responds with great enthusiasm as she starts telling the younger girl about her kids and how the store's been getting along.

Y/N loves coming to this flower shop because no matter how long she stays away, she's always greeted with a warm welcome, one that reminds her of her mother at a young age. The shop gives her a sense of family no matter what happens, and she's never been more grateful. After Tameka finishes rambling on about her life, she turns her attention to the younger girl as she props her head onto folded manicured hands and flashes her a warm smile.

"Here to get the usuals? Anything new to update me on chica?" Y/N shakes her head with a small laugh as she leans on the counter.

"Of course, you know I never stray. And no new updates unless you count having to tutor the boy who seems to hate my existence an update." She says and sighs, the thought of having to do so is a big damper on her happiness and a heavy weight on her heart — it’s not that she doesn’t want to tutor him, she just knows that it’ll be like pulling teeth with him. She’ll have to pry answers out of him and will more than likely be the worst tutoring session ever, she’ll be exhausted afterwards.

She can't help but to wonder how it'll go, will he be the same as he is in school? Is he gonna spend the whole time mocking her and poking fun (he most definitely will, she’s sure of it. He won’t turn down an opportunity to annoy her and get under her skin), or will he be kind and listen to her (maybe in another universe, some alternate reality where they’re cordial. She’s silly to even think this was a suggestion, she should know him by now), asking questions whenever he's confused? Will the session end in a screaming match as he tests her limits or will it be calm as he complies and agrees to her help.

As she pays for her flowers, she can't help but to ask herself those questions. She knows wondering won't help determine the outcome of the coming day, but she knows there's only one way to find out.

She makes her way home, her bouquet of flowers sitting neatly in her tote bag as she rides along. She takes pleasure in the feeling of the wind brushing against her skin and flowing through her hair as she pedals along. The sound of people chatting on the sidewalks and the sound of cars whirring by her and honking at others fill her ear and she just smiles. She enjoys the sound of her community while others might say that it’s too loud and there’s no peace in all of the noise, she says otherwise. She can’t imagine her city in silence, to not listen to the usual sound because it’s all she knows.

She makes it home and parks her bike beside her apartment, tying it up and making it inside the building. She heads down the short hall and to her door, unlocking it and walks inside and smiles at the sereneness of her own space. She locks the door behind her and sits down on the couch with her notebook and her favorite pen, thinking of the best way to carry out these sessions with Harry. What would be the best approach and everything to do with it. She wants to make sure that he understands that she’s not going to allow him to just walk all over her and cheat his way through.

She wants to actually help him, not just give him what he wants; she wants to give him what he needs and what he needs is someone to take time out of their day and work with him, cater the worksheets and lessons to how he learns best so he can actually learn the information. She can only hope for the best as she begins to write out a plan for the next few weeks, she just knows that she’s going to need all the luck dealing with Harry.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one direction #harrystyles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x fem!reader #— 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

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appocalipse · 2 months ago

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no pilots allowed • bradley bradshaw

Rooster and his teammates are frequent patrons at your aunt's bar, the Hard Deck, while they're training for a dangerous mission. When he asks you out on a date, the two of you jokingly agree to keep it friendly, never cross certain lines…but Rooster has other ideas.

"Do you ever sleep?"

You don't look up from the glass you're polishing, but your mouth twitches into a faint smile...the same way it always does when he shows up at the Hard Deck this early.

"We're not open for, like, another few hours," you tell Rooster, as if he doesn't know that already. You can hear him approaching the bar from behind, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor, making his way through the quiet, mostly-empty room.

You're not supposed to let people in before hours, technically. Especially not good-looking naval aviators who will inevitably distract you a little more than you'd like to admit, but...

"Then what are you doing here?" he asks.

You look up at him. He's taken off his aviators, his dark eyes watching you rather intently. His posture is casual, his tall frame leaning against the counter.

You set down the glass you've been polishing and reach for another one, returning your attention to your task. "Someone has to make sure everything's ready before we open."

He gives you a slow, easy smile. "Mind if I help?"

"Help?"

"Yeah." He looks around the bar as if trying to figure out where to start. "What do you need me to do?"

"Aren't you tired from training?"

"I'm fine," he says, not convincing you in the slightest. "Seriously. What do you need?"

You set down the glass. A small part of you can't resist the chance to keep him around longer.

"I'll feel bad if I make you work," it sounds like you're reasoning with yourself.

Rooster grins. "Then don't make me work. It's my idea."

"My aunt will kill me if she catches you in here, especially if you're working."

"She won't know."

Well...there are some heavy crates that need to be brought in from the storage room, bottles of alcohol that need to be placed on the shelves, tables that need to be wiped down...

The heavy ones. Oh, the heavy ones are tempting.

"You're a menace," you tell him, though it comes out sounding more like a compliment than an insult. It's hard to offend him anyway, you've found; he seems to take everything you say in stride, regardless of whether you mean it or not.

He smiles at you, unfazed. "Is that a yes?"

"What are you doing here so early anyway? You and your team don't usually show up until well after dark."

"Do I need a reason?"

"It's early. You can't be that bored already."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you."

Boy, is he good.

Not falling for it is a challenge every time. You wonder if Rooster knows that, if he gets a kick out of it the way Hangman does when he flirts with every pretty girl who crosses his path. The difference is, Hangman's flirting is playful, an intentional provocation that you can take as a compliment or blow off with a laugh.

Rooster's flirting is different. It's always delivered in that same deep, mellow voice of his, a warm baritone that reminds you of dark whiskey on a cold night, and he has a way of saying things that makes you think he might actually mean them.

"...you don't have to sweet-talk me," you tell him. "I already let you in."

He grins at you. "Who says I'm sweet-talking?"

You turn back to your task of polishing glasses so he won't see the smile you can't contain. That's it, you think. New rule: no more letting him in early. He's too distracting.

"Am I being kicked out?" Rooster asks, amused.

"Yes."

"Really?"

You try not to laugh. "No. But you really don't have to help."

He straightens up from the bar and stretches his arms, yawning. "Where's Penny? Did she leave you here to do all this by yourself?"

"Visiting her mother with Amelia. She'll be back later. I offered to cover while she's gone," maybe out of boredom or some desperation for human contact, but it sounded like a good idea at the time, you just didn't realize it would involve so much work. "The other waitresses will be here, um, soon, I guess, once it gets closer to opening time."

You don't want to admit you're a little intimidated by the responsibility. You've only been working at the Hard Deck for a few months now, having moved here from halfway across the country, and most of that time has been spent behind the bar or taking orders on your notepad, doing the tasks Penny asked you to do, and nothing more. Now that she's away for a few days, you're starting to feel a little overwhelmed with the amount of work that needs to be done.

"You look tired," Rooster observes.

"Thanks."

"I mean it in a good way."

"It doesn't sound good."

"You always look nice," he clarifies, to your mild embarrassment and surprise. "I just mean you seem like you could use some help."

You don't meet his gaze because, no, you're not going to be distracted by those brown eyes again, it's bad enough already. "I...okay. The delivery truck is supposed to arrive soon, so...there are a lot of crates that need to be brought inside. And some in the storage room that I need to bring here to the bar. Some of them are really heavy. I'm not even sure how Penny brings them in by herself."

"Let me take care of that for you."

Let me take care of that for you, says he, like it's no big deal.

"There are some boxes of liquor that need to be taken out of the storage room and brought in here, too," you continue, despite your better judgment, still watching him out of the corner of your eye.

He gives you another slow smile. "Okay. Where is this storage room?"

"There's a door behind the bar. To the right. I'll help you carry them."

"You don't have to."

"I'll show you where they are. And it's gonna be easier if there are two of us."

He looks at you with a knowing smile. "Is that why you want to come along? So you can make sure I don't get distracted and break anything?"

"Exactly."

"I think you're just making excuses to spend time with me."

Does he really have to keep looking at you like that?

"Rooster," you say, as firmly as you can manage.

"Yes?" It doesn't seem to bother him that you're trying to scold him. In fact, you think he's enjoying it.

You walk backwards behind the bar to lead him toward the storage room, pausing when you reach the door. You let out a sigh. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

"Really?" He grins at you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I thought I was being very nice."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah."

"Crates," you say, gesturing to the storage room and changing the subject before he can talk his way into any more compliments. "In there, by the wall. The smaller boxes on the shelves are for the bar. We'll bring them in after we move the big crates. The ones with the heavy bottles inside."

Rooster pauses. "'We'?"

"I can't let you carry all of those by yourself. They're heavy."

"That's cute. But I can handle it."

"No. Not by yourself."

He gives you a confident grin. "Watch me."

The moment he disappears into the storage room, you start to regret saying anything at all. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to let him help you with this; he must have gotten to your head. There are plenty of things you could be doing right now while he's out of sight, and yet...you decide to stand there in the doorway, watching him take inventory of the room, squinting in the dim light and trying to decide where to start.

It's not like you can just leave him to it. It would be too embarrassing if he hurt himself and you did nothing. The best way to keep an eye on him is to stay close by.

Right?

Rooster lets out a groan as he heaves one of the large crates up off the floor. "You weren't kidding," he mutters. "These are heavy."

"Let me—"

"I've got it."

He doesn't let you help him. He lifts the crate off the ground with another grunt, and you're distracted for a moment by the sight of his muscular arms flexing under the strain, the tight white t-shirt he's wearing pulled even tighter across his chest, the—

"Y/N?"

"Hm?" You look up quickly. "What?"

He grins at you. "Want to open the door for me?"

Fuck, you think, not for the first time that day, stepping out of the way to let him through.

You grab a smaller crate for yourself. It's not as heavy as the one Rooster is carrying, but you still strain a little under the weight of it, and Rooster still gives you a disapproving look when he notices.

"I told you," he says, slightly out of breath from his own effort, "you don't have to help."

"It's literally my job to help," you mutter. "Actually, it's my job to carry them all myself, so—"

"I got it."

"Yeah, but I can—"

"You can relax," he tells you, letting out a small groan as he heaves the crate up a little higher. "And go back to what you were doing."

It would be easier to protest if he didn't make it look so effortless. He carries the crate out of the storage room and sets it on the floor near the bar with a thud, barely breaking a sweat.

Your fingers dig into the rough edges of your own crate, which seems ten times heavier all of a sudden. You set it down next to his, more carefully than he did, glancing over at him to see if he noticed.

He looks down at the crate you just set on the floor, then over at you with barely concealed amusement. "Not bad," he says. "You could handle that all by yourself?"

"Shut up."

"No, really." He's not trying to hide his smile anymore. "Impressive."

The laugh you let out is entirely involuntary, equal parts embarrassed and amused. "Okay, fine, I get it," you say. "You're strong. You go get the rest of them while I finish wiping down the tables."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you."

"Any time."

It's fine, you tell yourself as he heads back into the storage room. Rooster being in here won't distract you. It's fine. Everything is fine.

The delivery truck arrives shortly after Rooster has brought in the last of the crates to the bar, so you spend the next hour opening the boxes and sorting the bottles, filling the shelves behind the bar with whiskey and rum and vodka, gin and tequila and other liquors...and totally not stealing glances at Rooster as he carries the crates from the truck into the storage room.

You've found a rhythm by the time he returns from the truck for the final time, wiping your hands on your apron as you watch him approach the bar.

"I think that's all of them," he says, letting out a groan as he stretches his arms above his head.

The nerve, you think, resisting the urge to stare. The absolute nerve.

"Thank you."

He lowers his arms. "I never said it was for free."

"What?"

Rooster leans forward and props his elbows on the bar, the same cocky grin from earlier playing at his lips. "There's a price for my help."

"A price?" you ask, still polishing the same glass you've been working on since he arrived. "And what's that?"

"...a drink."

Well, that's easy.

"A drink? You want me to pay you a drink?"

"Ah, no, no," he says with a laugh, waving his hand like the idea is ridiculous. "I want you to let me buy you a drink."

Oh.

"Oh."

"And something to eat, too," he adds, and by the time you recover from the initial shock of what he's suggesting, he's already standing up straight again. "What time do you get off work?"

"No."

"No?" He looks at you in surprise.

"I can't," but you're only barely resisting.

"You can."

"Rooster."

He frowns. "What?"

"I..." Why is this so hard? "I can't go out with you. It's—I can't."

"Why not?"

You feel tempted. Boy, are you tempted. You're smiling even as you shake your head, trying to focus on polishing the glass in your hands. "Because I actually...like you."

Rooster pauses, his smile returning. "You can't go out with me because you like me?"

"This heart," you tap your fingers on your chest, smiling still, "is off limits, okay? No pilots allowed."

The tables are clean and the bar is stocked and organized, but you need to do something else, anything else, if only to avoid Rooster's gaze. You slip the cloth you've been using into your apron pocket and look around for another task. There must be something you missed. Anything.

Tables, yeah. You can wipe down the tables again.

"Okay," he says slowly, clearly not convinced, "so let me get this straight: You like me, therefore you're not allowed to go out with me?"

You nod. "Exactly."

"Are you kidding?"

You take the cloth out of your apron pocket again and glance around the bar, searching for any traces of dust on the tables or chairs that might need to be wiped down.

"Y/N?"

You've already gone over the tables once...

Rooster steps closer. "You know that makes no sense, right?"

You're not distracted by the sight of his hand sliding onto the countertop next to you. You're not distracted by the sudden proximity of him as he leans in closer. It's fine, it's not a problem, you can deal with this.

"So...you're saying you do want to go out with me," he says, sounding far too pleased with himself, "but you won't?"

He's so close. He smells good, like pine and leather. You glance over at him, realizing how little space there is between you now, and quickly look away.

"That's—I don't..."

"Because you like me."

"Shut up."

His gaze drops to your mouth. "Make me."

You swallow. Hard.

It takes a monumental amount of willpower to step away from him, to resist the temptation to touch him or get closer, but you manage. Barely. You make yourself focus on the task you've found for yourself, pretending that Rooster isn't standing behind you watching as you wipe down the tables a second time.

"I think we should go out," he says again, obviously not taking your silence for the no it's supposed to be. "There's a place downtown that I think you'd like."

You chuckle, which probably doesn't help matters, but...it's really hard to say no to him.

"Would I?"

He must have sensed weakness because he follows you around the bar as you continue your pointless cleaning. "Today is one of the last days we have off," he tells you. "Maverick has us in the air all day tomorrow, and most of the day after that. If we don't go out tonight, who knows when we'll have another chance...or how long it'll be before I see you again."

"Rooster..."

"Come on," he says, more gently this time. "One drink. Or maybe dinner. Nothing too fancy. I promise."

You pause and glance over at him. He really doesn't know when to quit. "But it's not a date."

"No. Totally not."

You don't like how much it sounds like he's laughing at you.

"Really?"

"Not even close," he says, like he's serious. "It's a totally not date between two friends."

He follows you, like a puppy, around the bar, until you pause again, thinking it over for what feels like the millionth time in the last few minutes. One drink, he said.

Not a date.

...just two friends hanging out.

No feelings involved.

You sigh, letting the cloth in your hand drop to the table, giving in to the inevitable. "Fine," you say, turning around to face him. "But it's not a date."

"No."

"Or a first date."

"Right."

"And it's just one drink."

"I swear."

"And we can't—we can't..." You can't help but notice the way he's looking at you, his brown eyes full of mischief, a hint of that playful smile on his lips again, and you're suddenly worried he might get the wrong idea about this whole thing. "No...you know."

His eyes linger on your mouth again before meeting your gaze with a sly smile. "No...what?"

"You know."

"I really don't."

"It's not a date."

He chuckles softly at your obvious distress, clearly enjoying this. "Okay, it's not a date."

"Exactly. So don't do anything you'd do if it was a date."

He steps closer, grinning, the space between you evaporating again. "And what is it," he asks in that deep voice of his, a low rumble that resonates somewhere in the pit of your stomach, "that you think I would do on a date?"

The table behind you feels like it's digging into your back.

"No kissing."

"Got it," he says, resting one hand on the table behind you, "no kissing."

"Or any other...date stuff."

"Like what?"

"Like..." You glance at his mouth.

Rooster smiles. "You want to make a list?"

You duck under his arm before he can do something that will get you in trouble. "I'll meet you after work," you tell him over your shoulder as you walk back toward the bar, desperate for some space before you lose your resolve altogether. "Just...stop talking. You're distracting me."

He turns and watches you, amused. "Okay. Pick you up at seven?"

You wonder if it's too late to back out of this, or if he's going to show up here at seven with that stupid smile of his and his ridiculous mustache and ruin everything anyway.

"You don't have to pick me up," you mutter, wiping your hands on your apron one more time, unable to hide your smile. "It's not a date, remember?"

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Oh, he's impossible.

"It's not a date!"

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luvgam3 · 4 months ago

Text

Riding Kiyotaka Ijichi in his car + glasses wearing reader

Ijichi accidentally leaves his lunch in your work bag, so you get to have a spontaneous lunch date! It’s not everyday you get to spend half an hour of uninterrupted time with your boyfriend… might as well take advantage.

cw: mdni, afab!reader, horned up Ijichi?, reader wears glasses, car sex so semi public, nothing crazy

You groan, rolling over and grabbing your phone to shut off the loud ringing as Ijichi yawns beside you, digging the heels of his palms into his sleep crusted eyes. “G’morning.” You grumble, your voice horse and gravely as you stretch your arms above your head.

Both of your schedules are always clashing. Between working and errands and appointments you hardly have any downtime, by the time you both crawl into bed you’re already spent, curled into one another and falling into a deep dreamless sleep before waking to the sound of your alarms only a few hours later— which is exactly what happened last night.

Ijichi hums in response, his usual smooth voice a low grumbling as he tries to work the grogginess from his bones.

You both fall into your respective morning routines— Ijichi showers while you make breakfast and pack your lunches, you do your hair while Ijichi pours you both coffee and lays out your clean work clothes on the bed— and so on and so forth until you’re leaning over your seat to press a quick kiss to his cheek before jumping out of the car and heading into work.

Lunch rolls around, the only time of day you get to sit down and call your boyfriend in peace (if he isn’t busy). You open your phone and press on his name, listening to the soft ringing before the line crackles and his voice cuts through. “Hi angel—“ he says, you can hear him flick on his blinker as he drives. “Did I leave my lunch in your bag this morning?” He asks. “Mm let me check—“ you murmur, rifling through your work bag, finding his lunch next to yours.

What a happy accident, he thinks as he pulls infront of your building, beaming as he rolls down the tinted window of his car to look out at you waiting for him. You smile back at him as you climb inside, pressing a kiss to his cheek again before he parks in an empty corner behind your building. Blooming trees shade the sun from view, most people refuse to park under it, hating the way leaves and pedals would get stuck under their hoods and windshields— and the walk from this parking spot to the front of the building made the walk even less enjoyable. But it made for a great impromptu picnic location!

You hand Ijichi his lunch, leaning back in your seat with a sigh as you ask him about his day so far.

He shrugs, resting his bag down at his feet before gently cupping your cheek, his thumb trailing softly against your skin as you relish the warmth of his touch. “How’re you, beautiful?” He asks, voice gentle as you look at him and his goofy lopsided smile.

“Tired… I miss you.” You admit, nuzzling against his palm.

His brow twitches in confusion, “we see eachother everyday.”

You laugh, your hand closing over his, bringing it off of your face and holding it in your lap. “I know that! We just never get any alone time, we’re always so busy.” You groan the last part, head lulling to the side dramatically.

You aren’t sure why you’re even bringing this up, sure it gets a little annoying sometimes but that’s never stopped you both from doing things together after work.

“Well we’re here now.” He says, his other hand moving to gently squeeze your arm. That innocent little action has heat pooling in your lower belly. That’s ridiculous! You think. He didn’t even do anything. But now that you think about it… it has been a while since you’ve both been intimate. Fuck, you’re lucky if you have enough energy at the end of the day to even kiss him goodnight.

Your eyes find his, that glint in them makes his stomach tighten and his cheeks flush. “What’s that look for?”

You raise your brows, that look of mock innocence gracing your features as he squirms in his seat. “Look all I’m saying is—“ you start, unbuckling your seatbelt and slipping off your shoes, “we each have forty five minutes left on break—“

Ijichi clears his throat, “I actually only have twenty—“ but you cut him off as you lean over and unbuckle his seatbelt for him, listening to it whip back into place before swinging your leg over the gearshift to place yourself firmly in his lap.

Good. Lord. His breath catches in his throat as you look down at him, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as you hike up your skirt with one hand, your other cups his cheek tenderly before you lean down and capture his lips in a searing kiss. You swallow down his desperate moans, his slender fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while you blindly fumble with his belt buckle.

Clink, click, ziiip!

He’s hot and throbbing as you palm at his clothed erection, straining against the fabric of his boxers. You pull back, his lips chasing yours before you push him back against the seat, a huff leaving his swollen lipstick smeared mouth. “You got enough time for this?” You ask, your lips pulled into a smirk as you watch him writhe beneath you, hurriedly nodding as his hands squeeze at you, pulling you down fully on his lap. You both moan as your clothed cunt meets his sensitive bulge, his hands groping at the globes of your ass as he urges you to grind against him, leaning forward to smash his lips into yours once more— all tongues and teeth this time as you moan into his mouth.

Your hands snake down his chest, clinging to his hips as you detach your lips from his with a wet pop. Drool dribbles down his chin, before it can fall onto the collar of his shirt you quickly press the flat of your tongue against his skin and drag upward. Your breath is hot against his face, glasses knocking together as your tongue slides past his lips, his hips thrusting upward to meet your small wiggles and grinds.

With eager hands Ijichi slips his fingers under the damp fabric of your panties, thin fingers slipping through your slick folds as you mewl against his lips before he slides your panties to the side. Your hands seek his boxers but before you can lean back and slip him out of his confines he beats you to it, deft fingers push down the worn elastic of his underwear, his cock springing free, the rosy head swollen and glistening as it rubs against the moist material of your panties.

His lips press hot open mouthed kisses along your jaw, wet and hot as he pants out “Can I?” His voice curls into a whine as your hand join his at the base of his cock, guiding it through your folds until it catches on your fluttering hole.

You both moan out as the head pushes past that tight little ring of muscle, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, his glasses fogging at the edges as you sink down inch by torturous inch until you’re flush against him, your clit rubbing against the bunched up fabric of your panties as he squirms under you, fingers digging into you to keep you in place as your own tangle in his neatly combed hair.

“O—oh fuck—“ he moans, lips kiss bitten and trembling as you roll your hips.

Oh how he wishes this could last forever— your gummy walls sucking him in, your juices already dribbling down his shaft—

“This okay?” You ask, your eyes heavy as you take in his features— his beautifully smooth face flushed and sweaty as his eyes fight to stay open, his mouth hangs open, moaning as you suck him farther inside only to pull back at an agonizing pace.

Ijichi nods, his hips aching to thrust up into you, “yes, beauty. go— ugh— faster.” You don’t deny him that pleasure, quickly shifting from gentle steady rolling motions to bouncing on his cock.

The soft squelch of your pussy splitting open around his cock has Ijichi’s ears ringing, a steady stream of whimpers spilling from his mouth as you do all the work. The car rocks softly, windows fogging as you gasp into each other’s gaping mouths between stolen kisses, nipping at his bottom lip when you get the chance to- soothing the sting with your hot and eager tongue.

“Oh god—“ he cries, eyes glassy as he watches you lean back, hands bracing the steering wheel behind you so that you can go faster. Your tits jiggle under your clothes, your glasses fall down the bridge of your nose, your hair sticks to your sweat slicked forehead— you’re just so… so hot.

His head swims, hazy as his gaze drops to your joined bodies, a frothy creamy ring forms at the base of his cock, the sticky substance clings to your glistening folds as you continue to thrust down onto him with increasing intensity as you selfishly chase your own peak.

Your head lulls forward, incoherent words tumbling for your lips as Ijichi takes two fingers and pushes your sliding glasses back up your face. “Thank you baby.” You mumble with your spit glossed lips. The sight has Ijichi leaning forward, pulling your chest to his as his hips meet yours, snapping upward at a brutal pace as his tongue darts out to lick at your sweat speckled neck with a low groan.

When you and Ijichi make love he’s always so tender, sweet soft kisses and a gentle grip that doesn’t hurt, he loves when you guide him through it— but now? After you both accidentally deprived yourselves for god knows how long? This isn’t love making, this is fucking.

The feeling swimming around in his gut is something new, he wants to wrap a slender hand around your throat, pull your hair, push your face into a pillow— anything if it means you’ll make these vile little sounds again.

You moan, back arching in his hold as he plows up into you, your arousal dribbling down your thighs and seeping into his pants. But fuck— he doesn’t care. Not when you’re babbling, treading the fine line between moaning and screaming as his tip kisses that spongy spot deep inside you that has you tightening around his dick.

This feeling buzzing deep inside of him has him seeing stars. His spine tingles as his hands grope and knead at your flesh in a new way.

He wants to pop the buttons on your work shirt, tear the fabrics with his teeth and rip down your bra so he can suck and bite at your tits as they bounce in his face.

“Oh my-g-god— I don’t think I can—“ he babbles, moans melting into sudden strangled whines as you start rubbing your clit in tight sloppy circles, your cunt clamping down around him, threatening to milk him dry. “M’gonna— oh-f-fuck—“

“Cum in me— Jichi— fuck! Jichiplease!” You cry, eyes scrunching tight as the coil in your stomach snaps, your hips aching and ears ringing as you cum around him, pussy fluttering as your body goes slack against him, lazily meeting his hurried thrusts until you feel him spill inside you. His ears ring as his cock twitches between your slick gummy walls, mind blank and empty aside from the thought of you pumped full of him. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides as he moans against your neck, “oh— oh shit—“ he pants, breathing in your perfume and sweat, his body trembling just as much as yours as you melt into each other.

As you lay in his arms catching your breath you chuckle, head still fuzzy as you come done from your high.

“Ijichi?” You hum.

“Hm?”

“I haven’t heard you swear this much before.” You laugh, your fingers carding through his hair as he groans, his softening cock twitching inside you as you lean back slightly.

If his cheeks weren’t already bright red they’d be burning with embarrassment. “I don’t want to think about it—“ he mumbles.

“No!” You tsk, biting down another laugh as you feel him nuzzle into your neck. “It was hot.”

He groans again, embarrassed and horny all at once— that pathetic little feeling so enticing. For his sake you pretend like you don’t feel his cock jump inside you at your confession, maybe tonight you’ll be able to pull some more colorful words out of those pretty lips of his. When you aren’t on a time crunch of course.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk ijichi #ijichi kiyotaka #ijichi x reader #jujutsu kaisen ijichi #ijichi x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you

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nightsandrewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Illyrian Males

Pairing: Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Cassian and Azriel make a bet to see who can get Y/N first. But is she already seeing someone?

Word count: 13k oops

Warnings: M/M before you get to readers involvement, smut, 18+, dubious consent if you squint

a/n: It wasn’t meant to be this long but I couldn’t keep the bat boys off each other so…

Read on AO3 Part 2

———————————————————————

You swirl the last of your drink around your glass, enjoying the cool night air flowing through the House of Wind. The door to the balcony lies open where Feyre and Mor just left with a sleeping Nyx. Mor was escorting Feyre and the Prince of the Night Court back to the River House before returning home herself.

You know the High Lord would have escorted his lady himself had Feyre not insisted. “Stay and enjoy more time with your family, you work too hard.”

Now it was only the Ilyrrian brothers left with you in the small sitting area. You watch as Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel grin at each other like children who are up to no good. It warms your heart to see them happy and spending time together after everything you’ve all been through. You decided it’s time you excused yourself for bed and let the boys have their night together. You down the rest of your drink before standing.

“I’m off to bed, keep the volume down you lot.” You give them a smile and turn, making your way down the hall.

Cassian watches Y/N leave. His initial stare is innocent, noting her stride and balance, indicating to him how much she’s had to drink. But as she retreats down the hall he can’t help that his eyes fall to her swaying hips. The dress she’s wearing perfectly hugging her curves and the thought of tearing it of-

“You’re fucking Y/N” Rhysand states and Cassian whips his head round to him. Rhysand’s expression is relaxed as his eyes flick between him and Azriel. As if he had stated something as obvious as ‘the sky was blue’’.

Cassian looks across at Azriel. He was sure the same confused expression was plastered on his own face.

You fucked her? Cassian asks through their shared mating bond.

Of course not. Did you? He questions back.

Cassian doesn’t bother replying, he knows Azriel can feel his confusion and suspicion all the way down the bond.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian turns back to Rhys who was silently watching their exchange.

“In the hundreds of years I’ve known you, both of you, I’ve never seen either of you look at someone like that,” he nods to the hallway you disappeared down “except each other.” He pulls his drink to his lips, hiding a small smirk.

Cassian wills his cheeks not to warm, having been caught out lusting after someone who wasn’t his mate. But Rhysand had said both of them? Had Azriel also been watching you leave with more than just friendly affection in his eyes? He spares a glance to Azriel who is already watching him, head tilted in consideration.

“Well I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but you need to get your eyes checked old man.” Cassian stands and pats Rhysands shoulder as he moves past him to the small bar against the wall. He really needed to be doing something with his hands right now and pouring another drink was the perfect excuse to get out from under the scrutinising eyes of his mate and High Lord.

“My mistake.” He chuckles and quickly moves on to discussing plans for a boys night out.

————————————————————————

Azriel towels off his damp hair in the mirror. It was now well into the early hours of the morning, Rhysand having only just headed home for the night. He probably should have just gone to bed, but he does his best thinking while soaking in warm waters.

He tracks one of his shadows in the mirror as it swirls up his bicep and curls around his ear, whispering to him.

Cassian leaving his room….

Another shadow brushes the back of his neck

...coming to see us.

Azriel always used his shadows as sentinels, guarding the hallway outside his room. As much as he would like to give Cassian his privacy, his shadows seemed to be just as obsessed with the Illyrian warrior as he was. Often reporting his comings and goings without request.

He wraps a towel around his waist and moves into his bedroom looking for something to wear. With trained Illyrian hearing he could now pick up on Cassian’s footfalls down the hall. They’d kept their separate rooms, as no one except Rhysand was aware of their mating bond. Their ability to communicate silently through the bond was a massive advantage in combat, they didn’t want to risk anyone finding out about it and that information spreading across courts. But they couldn’t have really hoped to keep it from Rhysand with how often he was inside their heads.

Azriel senses Cassian open the door and walk in as he’s pulling underwear out of a draw.

“I’m changing asshole” Azriel glares at him over a shoulder.

“What? Have something I haven’t seen before?” Cassian rolls his eyes and throws himself into the armchair in the corner of the room, letting his head fall back in exhaustion.

Azriel takes a moment to appreciate Cassian’s bare torso and follows the cut of his muscles that disappear beneath soft grey pants. He drops his eyes to the floor noticing his shadows already slithering along to the General. Cassian lifts his head and looks him up and down waiting for him to drop his towel. Azriel feels his cheeks warm under the intense gaze. He racks his mind for something to distract Cassian with, that would allow him to change in peace, and remembers Rhysand’s comment about Y/N tonight.

“So, you’ve finally grown bored of me and have moved on to eye fucking our roomate?” Azriel raises an eyebrow at him. That did the trick. Cassian drops his face to the floor where shadows now swirl around his ankles, slowly climbing his covered calves. Azriel quickly drops his towel and pulls on his underwear. He softly closes the drawer with his hip, he wouldn’t need anymore clothing tonight with the heater of an Illyrian that was Cassian sharing his bed.

“Rhysand definitely didn’t think it was just me.” Cassian lifts his eyes back to Azriel, cheeks flushed with the slightest of pink. Azriel makes his way to the edge of the bed before replying.

“So what if I was?” Azriel leans back on his hands, shoulders flexing under his weight. Cassian’s eyebrows shoot up. He stands and strides across the room, shadows still clinging to him, almost at his waist now.

“Are you saying I don’t satisfy you anymore?” Cassian bends over him, leaning large strong hands on Azriel’s thighs. Azriel feels him squeeze ever so slightly.

“Maybe she’d actually be able to follow instructions.” Azriel smirks up at him. Referencing all the times that Cassian has failed to follow his commands. Hands up, no touching until I say. Stay quiet baby, you don’t want the others to hear you. And Azriel’s personal favourite. Don’t finish until I tell you to.

Azriel leans forward, brushing his lips against Cassian’s ear as he whispers “Or maybe I keep imagining her lips wrapped around your dick as I take you from behind.” Azriel watches the shiver that runs down Cassian’s spine. He slides his hand up Cassian’s inner thigh, scattering the shadows there, until he lands on the Illyrians rock hard length.

Cassian suddenly pushes him backwards and Azriel slides further up the bed. He climbs the mattress pushing Azriel’s legs apart as he settles himself between them. His pupils are blown wide and his wings pump once behind him in a show of dominance.

“You think her tongue, her warm pussy, would have you moaning the way you do when you’re fucked out on my cock?” Cassian growls as he shoves down his pants, releasing himself from their restraint. He pumps himself and Azriel can only bite his lip in anticipation as he watches Cassian’s hand make two long strokes.

Azriel bucks his hips up, pinned under Cassian’s hungry gaze. Cassian’s lips raise in a half smirk and he swiftly removes Azriel’s underwear. His eyes never leave Azriel’s as he slowly reaches out to the bottle on the nightstand and lubes his fingers. Azriel knows he’s doing it on purpose, wants him to squirm for a moment before giving him what he wants. He finally leans over Azriel, reaches down and slowly circles his hole. Azriel closes the distance between them, capturing Cassian's bottom lip between his teeth, a silent plea to hurry up.

Cassian pushes inside him with two fingers, pumping quickly, already spreading him open. Azriel drops his head back into the pillow with a moan. Cassian knows he likes to take his pleasure with a side of pain, so wouldn’t take too much care in opening him up. Azriel shifts his legs up a little giving Cassian better access.

“That smart mouth of yours has nothing left to say?” Cassian murmurs against his skin as he kisses down his exposed neck. Azriel only lets out a soft moan in response.

It’s only a couple of more strokes with skilled fingers before Cassian’s lining his head up with Azriel’s ass. He enters him in one swift motion that has Azriel arching off the bed. Cassian sets an unrelenting pace that has him seeing white behind his eyes. A calloused hand wraps around Azriel’s length and gives him swift pumps that match the deep strokes inside him.

Azriel can barely think straight with Cassian consuming every nerve. Cassian shifts back on his knees a little, dragging Azriel with him.

“You think Y/N could read your body like this?” Cassian continues his unwavering thrusts as his grip on Azriel’s cock tightens. Azriel feels it then. Feels soft gliding strokes across the inner part of his right wing and he can’t stop the whine that escapes him.

Cassian, the cocky bastard, chuckles above him. Azriel reels in the last of his focus to retort.

“I wouldn’t need her to, she’d be riding my face right now.” Cassian’s dick twitches inside him at the comment and the Illyrian above him lets out a low possessive growl. He pulls out of Azriel and quickly flips him on his front, lifts his hips and thrusts back into him hard. Cassian bends over him trapping his wrists to the bed.

“Now you get to cum untouched.” Cassian sneers at him.

Azriel has lost the power of speech, the new deeper angle has him coming undone. Every stroke has Cassian dragging over that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. Azriel isn’t concerned how his comments might land with Cassian. Every time he mentions Y/N he can feel Cassian’s lust flaring through the bond.

A few more snaps of Cassian’s hips have them both exploding, Azriel moaning into his pillow before they both collapse in a pile of sweaty limbs.

“Now I’m going to need another bath.” Azriel huffs, rolling onto his side facing Cassian.

“Sucks to be you” Cassian smirks and Azriel punches his bicep before leaning in and kissing him gently.

————————————————————————

Cassian pulls back and speaks into Azriel’s mind, too exhausted for more words.

It’s weird isn’t it, that we both started… noticing Y/N at the same time?

Just noticing? Azriel chuckles. Is that all it is, is it?

You know what I mean. Cassian physically rolls his eyes at him.

It is a little strange. Azriel admits as he rolls on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Too bad for you she would pick me over you.

As if! Cassian gives his arm a shove with his elbow.

Want to bet? Loser has to go down on the winner for a month straight. Azriel turns his head back to Cassian, eyebrows raised in challenge. Cassian quickly glances down between the Shadowsingers legs. He quickly debates how much damage Azriel’s considerable length could do in that amount of time.

Make it two weeks and you’re on. Cassian narrows his eyes. Are we talking, taking her to bed? He lets his features fall then and lets his wariness flow through the bond. He’s unsure how’d he feel taking someone to bed without his mate.

Let’s just go with getting her to agree on a date. Azriel reaches up and strokes the back of his fingers down Cassian’s stubbled jawline. Pure love vibrates through him from the threads that lay between them.

You’re on. Cassian leans forward and seals the bet with a quick kiss.

———————————————————————

A week passes and Cassian can’t stop thinking about the bet they made. He didn’t want to act too soon, didn’t want Azriel to think him too eager in going after Y/N. But who was he kidding? He found himself back in that sitting room, weekly drinks in full swing, watching Y/N bite her lip, holding in a laugh to the story Amren was telling her about the boys.

You’re drooling. Azriel teases down the bond. Cassian forces his eyes away from her and to the drink in his lap.

I am not. He scoffs. He looks up at Azriel sitting across from him, mischievously staring at him with knowing eyes. A bead of condensation runs down Azriel’s glass and he watches as Az strokes a long finger up the side wiping it away. God those fingers. He can almost feel how’d they brush his skin, how they’d pull at his hair and dig into his hips. How Cassian would take Azriel’s finger into his mouth, running his tongu-

Unless you want me to show you what these fingers can do to you right here, in front of everyone, I suggest you stop. Azriel’s eye’s darken as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Who’s drooling now? Cassian smirks at him.

Y/N’s laughter brings him back to the room. The others are almost doubled over at the story Amren just finished. Rhys starts topping up glasses with the bottle of wine in his hand, but Y/N holds up a hand when he reaches her.

“I think I need some water and maybe a snack.” She explains as she stands and heads through the door and down the hall to the kitchen.

So you haven’t talked to Y/N yet. Worried she’s going to say no to you? Azriel has obviously recovered from the images Cassian had thrown down the bond moments ago.

You haven’t either. Cassian quips back.

Oh no, I’m happy for you to go first. I want to give you a fighting chance. Azriel teases. Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, puts down his glass and makes his way to the door.

As he’s leaving he feels a mix of amusement and curiosity flow through the bond between them. Followed by a small tug of jealousy. Cassian smirks to himself, Azriel should be jealous, he was about to lay the charm on so thick, no fae would say no to him. But as he reaches the hallway he turns and winks.

Fuck me later asshole. And watches as Azriel visibly relaxes at his words.

————————————————————————

You slice the block of cheese in front of you, carefully avoiding your fingers. You can’t imagine the ribbing you’d get from the boys if you turned up to training tomorrow with a bandaged hand from slicing cheese.

Your vision wobbles ever so slightly and you decide it’s probably best not to push your drunken state and carefully put the knife down. You slide a couple of pieces of bread and cheese onto a plate and turn to go back to the sitting room when you find an Illyrian in the way.

“Want some bread and cheese?” You offer out the plate to Cassian.

“Sure.” He smiles broadly. He enters the kitchen completely, pulling his wings in tight through the doorway. He takes one look at the few pieces on the plate and scoops every last one into his hands.

“Cass!” You smack his shoulder lightly as he turns away chuckling, throwing pieces into his mouth.

“Sit, I’ll get you some more. Wouldn’t want you to slice a finger off with that cutting technique.” He gives you a wink as you take a seat at one of the stools pulled up to the high table in the centre of the kitchen. How long had he been standing there watching you struggle?

You take a moment to focus on Cassian at work. Broad shoulders and muscled biceps were on display tonight through a tight black t-shirt. Muscles under the tan skin of his forearms ripple as he makes light work of preparing your midnight snack. Your eyes start tracing the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that cover his arms, you’ve seen him shirtless more times than you could count, so you know where they swirl across his chest. But beyond that, where those lines lead you could only imagine… No you shouldn’t be imagining. You catch yourself having leant forward on the table following the imagined lines and play it off as intense interest in his slicing technique.

You can not be having those kinds of thoughts about one of your best friends. Someone you lived in the same house as and someone who was fucking one of your other best friends. Of course they don’t know you know that. You don’t even know how you’d begin that conversation.

Hey Az, hey Cass. I was heading back from the library late one night when one of your shadows caught my eye. It seemed to be beckoning me and I thought something might be wrong so I followed it. Turns out, when I approached the sound of your hushed voices, they became moans and I thought you guys were either going at it or one you had finally decided to stab the other..

Okay stabbing was not the imagery you needed right now. Regardless, that was months ago and ever since you’ve been picking up more and more on the looks the two Illyrians share throughout a regular day. Something was definitely going on between the two of them and you weren’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Cassian pulls over the empty plate you discarded on the table between you. He piles on pieces of cheese and bread, but instead of pushing it back towards you he picks it up and walks around the table. He stops right beside you and you turn to face him.

He places the plate down beside you and leans on his elbow against the table.

“Sorry I stole your snack.” He pouts jokingly at you.

“Apology accepted.” You say as you pluck a piece off the plate. “Would you like some more?” You offer him after downing two more pieces and picking up a third.

“I’d love some.” He leans forward slightly and opens his mouth for you. His playfulness catches you off guard but you quickly recover and reach out to hold a piece of bread and cheese to his mouth.

He takes them from your fingers and before you can pull away, he catches your thumb as well. Without breaking eye contact his teeth gently graze the pad of your thumb. You freeze a little and let out a small gasp that you hope he doesn’t notice. He smirks and leans back.

“An interesting snack of choice.” He nods down at the plate, a smile still playing in his eyes.

“Uh.” You stumble a little bit, trying to recover from whatever the Hel that was. “It was just what was lying around.”

“The best midnight snack is the one that takes no effort.” He pushes off the table and heads to the next room that holds an ice chest for the cold foods. It gives you a minute to clear your head, you turn back to the plate to determine what exactly just happened when movement catches in the corner of your eye. You turn just in time to see two of Azriel’s shadows cross paths in the darkness of the doorway.

What kind of game do these two think they’re playing? Well if that’s how it’s going to be, then game on.

Cassian returns to the kitchen, a bowl of strawberries in one arm and a smaller bowl of fresh cream in the other. He was about to make this way too easy for you.

He returns to stand next to you, placing the bowels on the table pushing the plate of bread and cheese out of the way. He picks up a strawberry, dips it into the cream and brings it up to his lips.

“See, so easy and I could eat this whole bowel in one sitting.” He places almost the whole strawberry into his mouth and bites it off before the stem.

You follow his lead and bite through a cream dipped strawberry. It really was delicious, you might even make this a new favourite. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, taking turns dipping and eating strawberries.

Azriel once taught you that sometimes all you had to do to get someone to talk was to sit quietly and wait for them to fill the silence. As if on queue…

“So I was thinking.” Cassian picks up a strawberry and rolls it between his fingers. “How about you go to dinner with me and I can show you some of my other favourite food combinations?” He glances up at you. So he wants to take you out to dinner? You might be playing the game now but you still weren’t sure what the end goal was. Had they caught you staring a little too long at Azriel’s chiselled torso during training? Maybe their aim was your total and utter humiliation to teach you a lesson about coveting something that wasn’t yours?

“Oh, uh.” You fake a little flustering. Okay so maybe you didn’t need to fake being flustered when an Illyrian, that literally looked like a winged god, was asking you on a date.

“I’m flattered but I’ve actually been seeing someone recently.” You let the lie roll off your tongue and pretend to be extremely occupied selecting the perfect strawberry.

“Really?” Cassian straightens and you don’t miss the way his wings puff up a little. “Why haven’t you introduced him to everyone?”

You shrug and pick up one of the largest strawberries, coating it in a thick layer of cream.

“Oh you know, it’s not that serious yet. Just a bit of fun.” You bring the strawberry to your mouth and the cream is already beginning to run onto your fingers.

You stick out your tongue and run a long stripe through the cream. You feel Cassian stiffen next to you. Just as you suspected, way too easy. You quickly finish off your strawberry, leaving you with two fingers covered in cream. You suck them into your mouth and turn to Cassian with wide innocent eyes as you pull them out past your lips.

“Thanks for the midnight snack Cass.” You smile and hop off the stool and leave him staring after you in the middle of the kitchen.

————————————————————————

Another shadow slips through the cracked door. It slides its way along to join the others currently swirling around Azriel, slumped in an armchair in the corner of the room. With no candles lit in Cassian’s bedroom, he may as well be invisible.

The newly returned shadow slides around his neck.

Gone, Cassian alone.

Seconds later Cassian pushes open the door and then clicks it shut. He strides across the room, pieces of his hair coming loose of their bindings as he braces his hands on the desk, leaning over the mess of paperwork.

“Didn’t go as you planned then huh?” Azriel speaks up from his shadowy hiding place.

Cassian’s shoulders stiffen in surprise but quickly relax as he turns.

“How many times have I told you not to do that?” Cassian leans back against the desk folding his arms across his chest.

Azriel commands all of the shadows to disperse.

“Just because you got rejected doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” Azriel smirks at him. Enjoying for a moment that Cassian finally found someone who would say no to him.

“Please, she didn’t reject me, she’s seeing someone.” Cassian rolls his eyes. And fuck the way Azriel wants to bend him over and spank his ass red raw for doing so.

A shadow glides over Azriels shoulder.

Never seen her with a male.

“Do you think she really is seeing someone though? I’ve never seen or scented another male around her.” Azriel crosses his ankles out in front him, chin resting on intertwined hands.

“I don’t know. Maybe she wants to keep it quiet. But one thing I do know, she wanted to say yes. You should have smelt her Az.” Cassian grins widely. Flashes of strawberries, cream and Y/N’s tongue filter through their bond.

Azriel is left stunned for a moment at the images he’s being fed. Cassian pushes off the desk and sits opposite Azriel on the end of the bed.

“Well maybe she was holding out for another Illyrian.” Azriel teases him. “I hope you’re ready to deliver on that bet.”

Cassian scowles and then another memory is bursting through the bond. Cassian has Y/N’s thumb in his mouth, grazing his teeth along it before flicking it with his tongue. Her eyes are blown wide and her breaths are short and uneven.

Azriel growls then, pushes from his seat and is standing in front Cassian in two long strides.

“If you wanted to put something in your mouth baby, you should have just said so.” Azriel towers over him. He watches as Cassian runs his tongue along his bottom lip, Azriel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, probably weighing up the risks of continuing to be a brat.

Azriel reaches out and grabs his chin firmly before he has time to decide.

“Be good, and open for me.” Azriel murmurs softly.

Cassian drops his mouth open into Azriel’s hand. Azriel strokes along his jaw with his thumb. His other hand reaches into his pants freeing himself.

He rests the head of his cock on Cassian’s awaiting tongue. The warmth of Cassian’s mouth immediately shoots through him and he can’t help the small groan he lets out.

Cassian sits with his jaw slack, looking up at Azriel with round innocent eyes.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know what to do with it.” Azriel scoffs. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” Azriel releases Cassian’s jaw and slides his hand to the top of Cassian’s neck.

Cassian’s lips wrap around him then, a calloused hand gripping along his base. Azriel moans as his tongue laps at the precum beading at his head. For a moment he loses himself to the warmth of Cassian’s mouth, letting his head fall back. His focus narrows in on the tightness of Cassian’s grip, on the way his tongue rolls around him.

“Think you can take all of me tonight baby?” He flicks his eyes down to Cassian's head, bobbing up and down his length. The only response he gets is a muffled groan that sends vibrations through his dick, Azriel bites his lip to stifle his moan.

He leans forward entering Cassian’s throat, slowly at first allowing him to adjust and pull back if he needs. But Cassian relaxes and takes every inch that Azriel gives him without complaint. Azriel moves a hand to the front of Cassian's throat, feeling the bulge of himself sliding deeper. He could come undone right then and there but he knows he has a task to do tonight. Knows he needs to smooth over the bruises to Cassian's oversized ego after your earlier rejection.

“Look at you Cass, no one else could take me like this.” Azriel murmurs. A tear breaks the corner of Cassian’s eye at the strain of taking his length. Azriel swipes out a thumb, smoothing it over. He starts rocking back and forth down Cassian’s throat.

“Keep those eyes on me, want to see how beautiful you are.” Cassian eyes flick up to Azriel through damp lashes. “Fuck you were made for me baby. Your body is perfect, your mouth, those hands, that ass are all for me.” He growls. In response Cassian tightens his throat around Azriel and that has him coming undone with a moan. He shoots white strands down Cassian’s throat and coats the inside of his mouth. Cassian laps at Azriel’s over sensitive head, cleaning every inch as he slowly pulls out.

Azriel leans down and kisses him deeply. He can taste himself on Cassian’s lips. He drops to his knees between Cassian’s legs and finally releases Cassian’s dick. He gives it a few quick pumps to relieve him of the building tension.

“Fuck, Az!” Cassian’s moan is scratchy, his voice wired out after having Azriel down his throat. And damn does that have Azriel’s dick throbbing again.

“Lay back, let me take care of you.” Azriel pushes gently on Cassian’s abs, but he needs no encouragement to fall back onto the sheets.

Azriel leans forward and runs his tongue from base to tip. He quickly works Cassian to the edge, he knows every nerve, has them mapped out in his mind and traces them with ease. When Cassian is bucking up into him, forcing him to relax his throat, to focus his breathing, he reaches up and strokes that place on the inside of Cassian’s warm leathery wings.

“Azriel!” Cassian cums through clenched teeth. Azriel is sure to suck him dry, before stuffing him back into his pants.

He rises and leans over Cassian, wings splayed.

“Now let’s see what that pretty mouth craves.” Azriel smirks. Cassian closes his hazel eyes, focusing. Racing down the bond, Azriel catches a montage of all the times Cassian has knelt before him. His own cock down Cassian’s throat or in his hands and Azriel’s heart pounds at how beautiful Cassian makes him look in his memories. Azriel crashes his lips into Cassian's, breaking the flow of images. He sends his own thoughts down the bond.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Cassian’s response is singular.

Mine.

————————————————————————

Two weeks later you're in the training ring with your favourite Illyrians. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little extra swagger to your step these last weeks. You’d beat the boys at whatever game they had tried to play with you. Hadn’t let yourself be caught out by your little fantasies that they may have started suspecting. It gave your ego a much needed boost.

You refocused on the Shadowsinger just in time to block the blade that came swinging down at you.

“You’re distracted.” Azriel says straightening. “Do you need me to ask Cass to leave?”

You both look over to Cassian’s slumped form against the far wall. He was sitting shirtless, legs stretched out in front him. You’d all stripped down layers during the heat of training, it left the Illyrians shirtless and you down to a sweat soaked singlet. Your eyes followed sweat beads rolling over heaving muscles as he caught his breath.

“Please the only thing he could distract me with is his overinflated ego taking up too much space.” You wave your hand around gesturing to the air.

“Ha ha you’re both very funny.” Cassian says dryly. He picks up the towel next to him, pushes off the ground and walks out of the room without another word.

If you were being honest it wasn’t the general who was distracting you today but rather the Illyrian right in front of you. If Cassian relied on glowing looks and charm to win him affection then Azriel relied on broody arrogance and touch. From the moment he walked in this morning he’d been upon you. Small brushes of a calloused hand correcting your grip, taps to your side to widen your stance, a hand held out and gripped just a little too long as he helped you stand from a fall.

You returned to your combat. Making quick slashes forcing Azriel onto his back foot. But he was far more skilled than you were and you weren't stupid enough to think you’d won the upper hand. You narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to make his move when you felt the cool whisper against your skin. A dark shadow curls around your neck and slides along your collarbone. It’s quickly joined by another sliding around your ear. You don’t flinch. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you react. You respond with a thrust of your sword which he easily dodges with a small pivot. Before you have a chance to retract your arm a shadow curls around your wrist and squeezes.

Your breath stutters and then your cheeks flush, because you know how closely he monitors an opponent's breathing. Suddenly his leg swings out and catches the back of your knee. You drop your blade as you fall backwards trying to regain your footing but a muscular arm catches you before you hit the ground.

Azriel holds you up a foot from the ground like it’s nothing, grinning at you. And suddenly you realise maybe the game wasn’t over after all. Maybe Azriel, the cunning spymaster he is, was just lying in wait for the right opportunity to mess with you all this time.

“Cheater” you glare up at him.

“You should expect an opponent to use every tool in their arsenal” He chuckles softly.

He stands up, rightening you both but keeps an arm wrapped around you, a hand resting at the small of your back.

“I guess you need to resort to that if you’re worried you’ve lost your touch and were about to lose to little old me.” You grin wickedly, folding your arms across your chest.

You catch darkness flash across his features and then you see nothing at all as a shadow wraps itself over your eyes.

You drop your arms to your side, your body automatically preparing for a fight that isn't coming. You never feared Azriel, only left awed at what he was capable of. You feel a brush of air and then the fan of his breath on your neck as he leans in from behind you.

“Wait until you have to fight me blind sweetheart, no one’s ever walked away from that.” He whispers softly.

You work to calm your stuttering heart, with your vision gone you’re forced to focus on the sound of his voice and the movement of his body with a new found intensity.

“Even Cass?” You question, hoping to distract him from your compromised position.

“Ha, I guess Cass has come close.” He chuckles and allows the shadow to fall away from your face. He steps around in front of you again.

“Only Rhys has ever bested me in a fight of total darkness, but who would expect anything less from the High Lord of the Night Court.” He shrugs in acceptance.

“Well how about a heads up next time you bring shadows to a sword fight?” You bend down, scoop up your fallen sword and start to make your way to the weapons rack.

“Let me make it up to you, have drinks with me tonight?” He follows closely behind you.

“Like a date?” You ask. This was starting to drive you mad. Were they really so cruel as to torture you just for having a little crush. What you wouldn’t give to have either Illyrian be genuinely interested in you. Azriel had to be asking you out. If it was any other day it would just be a casual; Drinks tonight, you in? not the mystery riddled Have drinks with me tonight? in that low sultry tone of his.

“Why not?” He asks. You can feel him standing right behind you as you secure the training sword on the rack.

“I’m actually seeing someone, but thanks.” You parroted what you said to Cassian a couple of weeks ago. But it doesn’t have the same gusto, instead you can hear your own voice laced with defeat.

“Really? Because I don’t think you are. I think you’re lying.” He teases. Your back stiffens, you can sense that he’s still only a step behind you. Did he, did they, really think that no one could be genuinely interested in you? Of course he wasn’t wrong. It had been an age since your last real date but you hadn’t really made yourself available. Preferring to throw all your energy into your work, your training and your family.

You decided then you were going to do something that would probably be considered dangerous. But it was time you got back at Azriel for all the touches; from him, from his shadows, during training. You quickly turn around to face him before you lose your nerve.

“Sorry to burst your bubble then, obviously you're not the great spymaster you think you are.” You give him a smile and go to leave the training ring. As you step around him though, you intentionally don’t leave enough space, forcing your bare shoulder to brush against the warm leathery surface of his wing.

He growls, a low feral sound that rolls from deep in his chest and for a second you think you might not actually make it back into the house alive. You don’t stop walking though and you don’t look back as you head inside.

————————————————————————

The bedroom door slams back against the wall with a crack and Cassian freezes with a spoon halfway to his mouth.

“She should be fucking dead.” Azriel snarls as he strides into the room. Cassian wondered how it was going up in the training ring, had waited in Azriel’s room to find out and by the looks of the spymaster, not very well.

“Did she insult your shadows?” Cassian smirks, placing his bowl down and standing from the armchair. It wasn’t often that something or someone got Azriel this worked up. Cassian couldn’t wait to hear exactly what Y/N had said.

Azriel glares at him and then suddenly Y/N’s face is flashing down the bond. Cassian sees through Azriel’s memory how she secured her sword to the rack, turned and insulted Azriel’s skills as a Spymaster. Cassian chuckles, he’s going soft if he’s getting that worked up over that little comment. But then she brushes past him and he feels it like he’s actually there in the moment, she…

“Your wing?” Cassian stands gaping at him. Even though Y/N wasn’t Illyrian herself she knew how they were affected by their wings. She knew that outside of healing, and training to fly as a youngling, nobody touched an Illyrian’s wings except their most intimate partners.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Well she’s not afraid to break the rules is she.”

“I almost broke something.” Azriel grumbled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t retaliate, you could have had her pinned, cowering on the floor in two seconds.” Cassian shrugged.

“Slight problem.” Azriel grimaces and motions to his hips. Cassian can now make out the bulge straining Azriel’s leathers. He doesn’t let Cassian respond as he storms for the bathroom. “Shower. Now.”

Cassian follows him into the bathroom and leans against the door, watching Azriel’s back as he practically tears his clothes off.

“You better be undressed by the time I turn around.” He says over his shoulder. Cassian rolls his eyes but starts striping down. Y/N really managed to get him in a mood.

“Roll your eyes again and see what happens.” Azriel growls and then steps into the shower, steam already filling the small room.

Azriel likes to be in control. And as much as Cassian likes to push his buttons, to force him to let go sometimes, he can’t help the small thrill that runs through him at the thought of his mate in his most dominant state.

He steps into the shower and Azriel has him pinned to the wall in an instant. Azriel’s mouth is on his, then on his throat sucking and nibbling and then he drops to Cassian’s chest swirling his tongue around his nipple. Cassian lets out a soft moan and drops his head back against the wall. His hips make an unintentional thrust, silently begging for Azriel's mouth elsewhere.

Azriel straightens, sliding a hand up Cassian's chest and wrapping it around his throat.

You’ll be good for me, won’t you Cas? Azriel’s dark voice whispers through Cassian's mind. One hand still wrapped around his neck the other trails down the broad muscles of his abs and grips his cock.

You’ll let me take you. Let me fill you and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow?

For a second Cassian considers a snarky response but he sees the shadows swirling in Azriel’s eyes. He knows what Azriel wants from him. Not to be Cassian the battle worn warrior or Cassian the Illyrian General, but the Cassian who would drop to his knees and do anything for him. The Cassian that exists only for the Shadowsinger.

Yours Az. Cassian practically whimpers back. Always need you. Please.

Fuck Azriel’s barely touched him and he can hardly string a proper sentence together.

Good baby. Azriel practically purrs in his mind and then steps away from him. Instantly Cassian wants to reach for him, to feel Azriel’s body against his, but he resists.

Turn around, hands on the wall. Azriel commands him.

Cassian obeys. Placing both hands to the cool wall as warm water rushes down half his body.

He only just settles his stance when Azriel suddenly enters him with two fingers causing him to cry out in pleasure. He’s not given time to adjust as Azriel begins moving, stretching him.

That’s it, let me hear how much you like it baby.

Cassian bites his bottom lip attempting to stifle his moans. Azriel removes his fingers and Cassian whines at the loss of contact and starts to turn to face him.

I said hands on the wall. Azriel's sharp voice winds through his mind.

Cassian obeys, forcing his palms firmly into the wall and gritting his teeth. When it came to intimacy Azriel couldn’t be more different to Cassian. He was all about the pleasure of delayed gratification but Cassian wanted everything yesterday. He hears Azriel shifting behind him, he leans his forehead on the wall for balance as he drops a hand between his legs.

Hands. On. The. Wall. Azriel’s voice growls and Cassian quickly returns his hand.

Suddenly Azriel enters him in one swift motion, forcing Cassian’s hips to buck forward. He groans at the intrusion and tears prick at the corner of his eyes as Azriel begins quick thrusts.

Look at you. The Great Illyrian General becomes a whimpering mess when he’s getting fucked on my cock.

The instant fullness is almost too much, he feels his feet slip along the floor. But he’s surprised to find that Azriel isn’t there with a steadying hand. Now that he thinks of it, the only point of contact is Azriel’s length sliding in and out of him. He needs more, he always needs more.

“Oh god, please” Cassian moans “Please touch me, let me move.”

“It’s not the gods you should be begging to.” Azriel growls.

“Please Az…” Cassian begs. Azriel hasn’t paused his quick thrusts once and Cassian can barely string a sentence together. A dark chuckle enters Cassian's mind.

Oh no, what was it you said? “Now you get to cum untouched”. Memories from weeks ago flood his vision when he had Azriel flipped over on the bed. He should have known the bastard would take his revenge for that sooner or later.

When Azriel thrusts forward again he brings his body with him, forcing Cassian flat to the wall, trapping his wrists with his own hands. Cassian’s cock is aching for attention and being pressed between the wall and his body is enough to have him on the edge.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Azriel whispers into his ear and Cassian’s vision goes white with pleasure as he releases his load onto himself. Azriel is right behind him as Cassian’s ass squeezes him to his release. There’s a moment when the only sound is their heavy panting and then Azriel grips Cassian's shoulders and spins him around. Suddenly Azriel’s lips are on his.

So good baby, always so good for me. Azriel’s voice purrs in his mind.

For you Az. He replies. Too exhausted to open his eyes just yet. He feels a cloth being dragged along his front, cleaning him.

You’re okay? I didn’t hurt you? Concern and fear floods down the bond from Azriel. Even as one of their tamer love making sessions, Azriel is always worried he’s pushed too hard, taken things too far.

Give me some credit Az. He flicks his eyes open and meets the intense gaze of the shadowsinger. You know I’ll take whatever you give me. He lifts a hand to brush along the Illyrians' chin. And I’m more than okay.

————————————————————————

The next day Azriel has laid out his knife collection on the dining room table for polishing. You hate when he polishes weapons where they eat. He doesn’t want you to know how worked up he got about the wing incident yesterday and this is a perfectly indirect way of getting back at you. Of course Cassian is sitting at the end, swinging in his chair with his feet on the table, not wanting to miss a second of the inbound confrontation.

Azriel doesn’t need his shadows to alert him to your footfalls in the hall as you approach.

You let out a small huff and he smirks softly before raising his face to meet you.

“Good morning Y/N” Azriel greets you cheerily.

“Why are you polishing on the table again, Spymaster?” Your eyes narrow at him.

The use of his formal title spurs something inside of him. His retort is on the tip of his tongue when Mor waltzes in.

“Morning!” She announces to the room but strides to your side. “You ready to go?” She holds out a bent arm to you.

“Where are you going?” Azriel tilts his head slightly, caught off guard in his lack of knowledge. There was no indication until now that you had any plans today.

“You didn’t tell them?” Mor looks to you in surprise.

“It’s none of their business.” You smile softly at Mor but hope she catches the wicked glint in your eye that begs her to play along. Thankfully she doesn’t elaborate any further about today's plans.

“Well Windhaven awaits.” She offers you her arm once again and you take it. You both hurry from the room but not before you hear Azriel's quiet questioning,

“Windhaven?”

And the snap of Cassian’s chair returning to the ground.

“Why didn’t you tell them about visiting the female Illyrians?” Mor whispers as you descend the stairs of the House of Wind far enough to pass the wards that restrict winnowing.

“You know they’ll assume the worst, probably worse than the worst.” She giggles at the realisation.

“Good.” You exhale. “They’ve been getting on my last nerve, they deserve it.” You join in with her soft giggles before darkness consumes you both.

“Why is she going to Windhaven?” Azriel turns on Cassian.

“I don’t know you’re the Spymaster, you tell me.” He snaps back.

“I’ve not heard anything. Rhys hasn’t mentioned anything, surely he would send one of us if anything was required there.” Azriel stands and paces along the room.

“Then maybe she wasn’t sent.” Cassian slumps back in his chair and stares absently at the ground. Azriel freezes and spins on his heel.

“If she wasn’t sent, why would she go?” He slams scarred hands down on the dining table.

Cassian flicks his eyes up to Azriel, a look of defeat flashes across his face.

“She did say she was seeing someone.” Cassian murmurs and the room becomes frighteningly still.

“There’s absolutely no way she is seeing a fucking Illyrian.” Azriel stands to his full height, wings shooting wide as he stabs a finger at the doorway you had disappeared through.

Cassian stands and gestures down at himself. “Az, we’re Illyrians.”

“You know what I fucking mean Cass” He strides forward and grasps the war lords shoulders “These are our Windhaven Illyrians, theres no civilised courting, there’s barely civilised conversation. Whoever it is, is going to tear her apart.” He moves his right hand to rest on Cassian’s cheek, letting the panic show on his face and flow through the bond. They’re going to tear our Y/N apart.

Cassian's eyes widen in realisation and fear now flows freely from both ends of the bond. There’s no conversation then, just the scuff of knives being sheathed as they prepare to leave for Windhaven.

————————————————————————

You appear in the middle of the Illyrian war camp and immediately bundle your cloak closer. The wind and snow were so harsh here you don’t know how the Illyrians could stand it. Squinting against the wind you can make out the small cottage that was your refuge just down the path. You give Mor a small nod of thanks and hurry on your way.

Your task today was to try and convince more female Illyrians to step into the training ring. To convince them that even if their wings had been clipped, and they could no longer fly in the legions, it was still worth knowing how to defend themselves. Many of them across the camps were still concerned about backlash even though their High Lord had been personally seeing to anyone who went against his rulings.

You almost reach the corner of the building when you hear the jeers.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnows them onto a small rooftop of one of the dozen semi permanent buildings in Windhaven. They immediately spot Y/N hurrying down the road. They were only a few moments behind her and Mor, as they had the advantage of quickly flying through the ward barriers of the House of Wind before winnowing.

They duck low to remain out of sight and watch as Y/N almost makes it to the small cottage on the outskirts of the camp before the jeers ring out. A group of four Illyrians jostle each other as they make their way over to where she has halted.

Cassian clutches at the metal roof causing it to groan as a low growl rips from his throat.

“If they touch her I’ll carve their hearts out of their chests myself.” He snarls.

Azriel firmly grasps the back of Cassian’s leathers to stop him from taking off.

“Calm yourself, they might be who she is here to see.” Azriel hates that he has to admit it. But now that he is here, has eyes on her, he’s in his element. Lying in the shadows, watching, waiting, that was his forte. Unfortunately Cassian was more act first, ask questions later.

Y/N stands stiffly as laughs ring out from the group. She looks comfortable enough. Her arms relaxed at her side, a soft smile on her lips. But in a moment everything shifts. The male at the front of the group reaches for her and she twists, drawing a blade in the same moment.

Azriel releases his grip on Cassian and launches for the group drawing weapons at the end of the road. He doesn’t know if Cassian has even left the rooftop yet as his fist collides with a stubbled face.

————————————————————————

You twist around, shove a small blade into the side of the Illyrian who lunged at you and stomp a heel into the back of his knee, causing him to fall forward. You catch the blur of another pair of black wings and your heart freezes for a moment. Four young, barely trained Illyrians you had a chance against, but another larger Illyrian joining the fray slashed your chances drastically. You almost fall to your knees when the glint of blue sirens catches the sun. Azriel was here, you don’t know how, but he was here. Suddenly the Illyrian at your feet is ripped from the ground and tossed down the path. Cassian stands in his place.

He reaches tentatively to your face as his eyes scan you widely.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He growls. You blink at him in surprise before replying.

“No, I’m fine.” You confess as Azriel expertly takes down the Illyrians that have turned on him. Cassian’s red siren’s are flaring, his chest heaving in deep breaths and you recognise the panic in his eyes. The panic for you.

“Cassian. I’m okay. You’re here with me.” You reassure him. He begins to relax and gives you a short nod.

“CASS!” Azriel bellows as the last of the group charges directly towards you. Cassian shoves you back and takes the brunt of the hit. Sending both Illyrians crashing through the wall of the cabin.

Suddenly a loud crack rings out across the camp and you swear time slows ever so slightly as Rhysand steps out of the darkness. His deep violet eyes hold none of their usual sparkle. He takes only a moment to assess the situation and strides towards you. He gently takes up your hand like he’s done many times before and nods once to Azriel as darkness consumes your vision.

You land softly on the plush carpet of Rhysand’s study. Seconds later Azriel appears with Cassian.

“Care to explain why I’m about to pay for repairs in Windhaven?” The cool stare of the Night Court’s High Lord falls upon his Illyrian brothers.

Azriel’s wings flare in challenge but you step forward before he can get out his first word.

“Actually, that might be my fault. I got into a little… altercation with some of the Illyrian trainees.” You play down how dangerous the situation really could have become.

“Little?” Cassian questioned. “It was four against one, you were lucky we were there!”

“I had it under control!” You ball your hands into fists at your side. “And why were you even there?”

But it’s Rhysand who replies first. “You went alone?”

You lock eyes with him for a moment, before turning away. You didn’t feel like trying to explain how hurt you had been by Azriel and Cassian’s games lately, that you had just wanted to get a little space. It felt like they were laughing at your poor love life at every turn and just for a moment you wanted them to assume you may have had a suitor. Even in a place like Windhaven.

“You sent her?” Cassian takes a half step forward.

Rhysand’s eyes flick quickly between the three of you. “I need to get back, make an example of these trainees to assure this doesn’t happen again and repair yet another building.” His gaze settles on Cassian. “You three stay here until you figure this out.” He’s gone by the time you turn around.

————————————————————————

“What were you doing in Windhaven?” Azriel folds his arms across his broad chest and leans against the wall.

“Why were you tailing me?” You answer with a question of your own.

“We thought…” Cassian shifts his weight uneasily “We thought you might be meeting with someone who wasn’t… safe for you.”

“Safe for me?” You could feel your blood begin to boil. First the games, now they want to directly meddle in your love life too?

“They’re Illyrians Y/N! They don’t care about you! You're seriously delusional if you think anyone in that camp is worth your time!” Cassian furiously points back towards the mountains outside the study window.

“Right because Illyrian brutes are only good for fighting and fucking!” You throw back at him. Azriel narrows his eyes understanding the insult that was just thrown at them.

“That camp is full of dangerous males! They’d love nothing more than to discard of you when they’re done! If you’re seeing one of them, it's over.” Cassian growls and you see red.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see!” You storm towards him and jab a finger into his chest.

“So you are seeing one of them!” He steps back and throws his arms up. You turn on your heel, heading for the door ready to be done with this conversation for good.

“What does it concern you if I see an Illyrian?” You snarl as you head back towards the door.

“Because it’s not us!” Cassian chokes out and the room immediately stills.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cassian’s thoughts rush down the bond. The fear of his confession mingled with the fear that he’s messed things up with Azriel. That he’ll lose two of the most important people in his life in one fell swoop.

Never. Relax. Azriel tries to soothe him but his heart is also racing out of his chest. Cassian’s confession may as well have been his own. The reason he couldn’t stand to think of Y/N with an Illyrian, or any male for that matter, was because it wasn’t him.

“I’m done with these games.” Tears threaten to prick your eyes but you fight them back. Your heart feels like it’s shattering. You glance over your shoulder, afraid that tears will begin to fall if you turn to face them completely.

“Just because the two of you are happy together,” You see the surprise ripple through them “Doesn’t mean you get to mess with me for fun.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble but you lift your chin in defiance.

“I’m packing my stuff. I’m going to go stay with Mor for a bit, just… leave me alone.” You sign and reach for the door handle.

————————————————————————

As you begin to pull the door open Azriel can feel his heart crack and splinter. The pain and sadness that they have caused you struggles to consume his chest and he doesn’t fight it. He lets it wash over him.

“No.” he gasps, squeezing his eyes closed against the sharp pain that rips through him. As he blinks them open he notices Cassian has stumbled to Rhysands desk doubled over in pain. But when he looks across at you standing in the doorway he sees it. A golden thread splits away from you, towards them both. Glowing just as bright as the one that connects him to the Illyrian warrior.

You stand frozen and wide eyed across from him.

Y/N Azriel takes a tentative step forward, testing the connection down the bond. Cassian straightens but remains silent.

I don’t understand. You blink back and forth between them. You two are…

We are. We have been mates for centuries. Azriel explains as he moves closer.

We can’t lose her Az. I can’t… Cassian’s voice waivers in the back of his mind.

I know. Azriel agrees. You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to unravel this mess, unaware of their private conversation.

Sweetheart, we never meant to hurt you. We were competing for your attention for our own gain and I’m sorry. We never thought for a second that it was the chaffing of a mating bond. I never thought the Cauldron would find me worthy enough of a second bond, they are so rare. Especially with you. I’m so sorry Y/N. If you let me, us, we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. Azriel confesses everything he has as he stands before you. He feels like he just placed his heart in the palm of your hand and is waiting for you to crush it between your fingers as you remain with your head down.

The Cauldron has blessed you with a mate after all… two mates. Males that you have been through so many ups and downs with during these last few years. And surely those years could trump the last few weeks of misunderstandings?

Okay. You lift your eyes to his as tears begin to spill over.

Azriel envelopes you first in his arms and then his wings. It wasn’t the confession he gave you but by the Mother he would take it. He meant what he said. He would do anything to mend what they had broken before they even knew they had it.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnowed you and Cassian back above the House of Wind. The three of you spent the rest of the day and evening discussing what had happened over the last couple of weeks. You confessed how you knew about their relationship. They confessed to their bet. They apologised over and over again. You confessed to catching on to their games early on.

“So you were never actually seeing anyone?”

“No, I haven't even been on a date since before the war.” You laugh and shake your head a little. A wave of jealously rolls down the bond and your eyes flick to meet Cassian’s.

You’d forgotten, for just a moment, about the mating bond. Well mating bonds. Lounging in the sitting room of the House of Wind with Cassian and Azriel felt like any other evening. The same usual banter flowed between you, but now when you took in their breathtaking smiles and low rumbling laughs there was no guilt to chase down your thoughts. You took in Cassian’s leathery wings stretched wide behind his low backed chair. You slide your eyes over his broad shoulders and the corded muscles of his exposed arms, landing on those Illyrian tattoos that you followed in the kitchen all those weeks ago, realising you might get the opportunity to finally follow their full trail across his skin.

Sweetheart Azriel shifts in his seat as his purring voice enters your mind. You might want to work on putting some shields in place. Your focus is pulled back then and you realise Cassian is gripping the armrests of his chair, his chest heaving in deep breaths, pupils blown wide with arousal as he pulls up the side of his mouth in a smirk.

Don’t listen to him baby. He’s just jealous. I was quite enjoying the appraisal. You blink in surprise as Cassian’s gruff voice enters your mind, startled to find that communication could flow openly between the three of you. That would be something you would have to delve into more later. Right now you could only focus on the Illyrian war lord across from you who had hunger rolling off him like a man who hadn’t eaten in months.

At Cassian’s words you realise you haven’t felt anything from Azriel’s side of the bond. Ever the cool, calm and collected one he was probably shielding everything from you right now and you found that it rubbed you the wrong way. You let your eyes fall on the Shadowsinger then, determined to have him drop his walls for you.

His deep black wings rise and fall behind him as he notices your attention. Your eyes trace along the top of his right wing until your attention falls to his throat, the way his adam's apple bobs has you swallowing dryly. You imagine placing your lips to the skin there and a shiver rolls through you. A shadow slides over his shoulder and curls low around his neck, almost vying for attention. You imagine what it would be like to not only have calloused hands pawing at you but smooth shadows as well and that’s when he snaps. His wall drops and his arousal twists and mingles with Cassian’s down the bond.

I thought you might be… opposed to my shadows in that scenario. He admits quietly. But having the bond so open you could easily read between the lines. He thought you might have been afraid of them. Of him.

You don’t scare me, Shadowsinger. You let admiration flow through the bond along with your words. In a blink of an eye Azriel is crowded over you, arms braced on the sides of your chair.

Really? He smirks down at you in challenge. It takes you one breath to recover from his sudden appearance, then you lean forward and place your lips to his neck in a featherlight kiss.

He groans and leans heavier into his arms.

Y/N we want to do this right. The normal way. Take you on those dates we asked you on. Cassian pleads with you. Interesting that when one loses their restraint the other finds it. You wonder if that's the bond at play or if that's just how Cassian and Azriel have always been.

Which part of this has been normal so far? You question as you send memories to both of them down the bond. Flashes of Cassian flirting in the kitchen and Azriel’s lingering touches during training. You also add some moments they’d never seen before; your lingering eyes catching on straining muscles as they spar shirtless in the training ring and the moment shadows led you to the sounds of them together, arousal shooting through you.

The world shifts beneath you then as Azriel lifts you from your chair. You wrap your legs around his waist and then his lips are on yours. There’s no delicacy to the kiss, it’s forceful, bruising, claiming. Soft sheets meet your back and you open your eyes to find Azriel has laid you down in his bed. His mouth moves to your neck, trailing kisses down to your chest before rising off the mattress. Shadows begin to swirl up your arms, replacing the touch of their master, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go for even a second. He turns to Cassian who has taken up residence leaning against the doorway.

“Nice of you to remember that I exist.” Cassian smirks at him. Any guilt you would have felt is quelled as you notice some of Azriel’s shadows linger around the Illyrians wrists and collarbone. Azriel strides across the room and grips the back of his neck.

“As if you’d ever let me forget.” Azriel whispers against his lips and kisses him. The kiss is gentle at first and you can’t help but feel the happiness that radiates from them. You’ve never seen them so open, relaxed and just… them.

Cassian is the first to push it further. Their lips still connected he shoves Azriel back into the room and kicks the door closed with his heel. There are hands in hair, gripping hips, mouths tugging on bottom lips and a soft whine escapes you as you watch your two favourite Illyrians devouring each other. Suddenly two pairs of dark eyes are on you.

Don’t worry baby, we haven't forgotten about you. Cassian's voice enters your mind as he moves towards the bed. He reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head, then climbs over you. He leans down and captures your mouth with his, taking his time to savour the moment. Then he spins, pulling you above him and props you up so you straddle his lap.

Wasn’t there some tracing you needed to do? He grins broadley up at you. You flush slightly at his reference to your errant imaginings but take in the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that wrap around thick muscles. You feel Cassian stiffen and then relax with a sigh as your tongue meets tanned skin. You trail across his shoulder, down his broad chest, pausing only to flick your tongue over a stiff nipple. He bucks up into you with a small moan. You continue down past chiselled abs as you move further down the bed finally reaching the line of muscle that disappears behind his waistband.

He watches you carefully as you begin to untie his pants. Finally you free him, curling your fingers around the velvet wrapped length. Suddenly a memory is forced into your vision. Cassian’s view in the kitchen, watching you devour strawberries dipped in cream. His focus is singular as he watches your tongue swipe up through the cream.

The room comes back to you and you smirk up at him laid back against the headboard before dipping your head down and running your tongue up the underside of him and flicking at his head.

Fuucckkk his moan reverberates in your mind as he throws his head back on the pillow. I’ve been imaging that for weeks and nothing even came close.

His reaction spurs you on and you get to work sucking him into your mouth, exploring with your tongue. You experiment with how deep you can take him and allow your hand to cover any part of the shaft that's not in your mouth. He continues to make small noises as the bed dips beside you. You look up to find Azriel already undressed, Cassian leaves your mouth with a small pop as your mouth falls open.

Oh please, he already knows he’s pretty. We’ll never hear the end of it now. Cassian teases.

Azriel leans forward and grips your chin gently forcing you to sit up.

As much as I was enjoying the show sweetheart, you are wearing far too many clothes. His hand trails down your front and rests at the hem of your shirt.

May I? He cocks his head in question. You nod silently, all words lost to you as your brain swims with arousal.

Words baby. Cassian props himself onto his elbows. There’s so much we want to do with you but we need to know you want it too.

Your eyes flick between Cassian and Azriel. Again surprised to find that Cassian was the one with more control. In the ring, on the battlefield, on a mission, it had always been the other way around. You pull your shirt over your head and reach back, releasing your bra, letting it fall into your lap.

I always thought actions spoke louder than words. You finally reply.

There’s my girl. Cassian reaches out, gripping around your hip, pulling you on top of him once again. And don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough why I’m left in control here. I don’t want to release Azriel onto you just yet. A shiver runs down your spine at the promise behind the words.

Azriel lets out a soft growl behind you as Cassian finds your lips. Suddenly there are hands everywhere. Cassian paws at your chest and rolls your nipple between his fingers, swallowing your moans in his mouth. Azriel positions himself behind you, quickly removing the rest of your clothes with a moan.

So fucking pretty. He runs a calloused hand up your inner thigh and you flush at the image he must be seeing of you bent over Cassian. His fingers run through your folds and settle on the bundle of nerves. You can only focus on not collapsing on top of Cassian under the assault of both Illyrians.

Azriel shuffles behind you and you feel his tongue flick against you and then swirl around you. He gently explores with his fingers, slipping a finger inside you as Cassian begins sucking marks on to your neck, your chest, anywhere his mouth can reach.

As quickly as Azriel’s tongue was on you, it vanishes and it's when Cassian knits his eyebrows together you realise, Azriel is using his mouth to pleasure you both.

While Cassian is briefly distracted you take the opportunity to return some of the marks to his own neck. Azriel then changes tactics and rubs Cassian’s head, slick with precum, against your clit as he adds another finger to the first, stretching you open as he pumps them in and out.

Please. You whine, already so close to the edge. Need you.

Azriel wastes no time as he sits up and lines Cassian up with your entrance. You slowly sink backwards feelling Cassian stretch you open until you sit flush over his hips.

Ride me baby girl, I’m all yours. Cassian purrs and you begin to bounce on top of him. Soft moans escape his lips as you move and you feel like you're glowing from your ability to bring him so much pleasure.

You lean over him, deepening the angle when the room darkens. Azriel leans over you both and whispers in your ear.

“Do you trust me?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Yes” You moan as Cassian slides deep into you again.

Azriel grips your hips and stops your movement as Cassian's length slides out of you, his head hovering at your entrance. Azriel enters you with a snap of his hips. You were glad you were stretched already as you take his large thick length in one quick thrust. He pulls out still holding you steady as he allows Cassian to buck up and enter you again.

They find a rhythm so quickly that you think must only come from being connected for so many centuries. You moan and whimper into the space between Cassian’s shoulder and neck. It feels like there isn’t a moment when you aren’t filled by either of them as they both fuck you hard and fast.

Cassian reaches up and pulls you away from his body so you hover above him.

Want to hear you baby. Want to see you as we make you fall apart. Come for me Y/N.

Your body obeys without you even thinking as you clench around them as they continue to enter you over and over again. When you’ve ridden your high, Azriel backs away enough for Cassian to pump into you a few more times before finishing himself, seated deep inside you.

There’s a few moments to catch your breath as you sit up and then Azriel is back, one hand your hip the other softly wrapping around your neck.

Do you have another one for us sweetheart? For me? The deep rumble of his voice raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Always. You whimper as his hands trace circles across your sensitive skin. He pulls you off Cassian and leans you back against his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He lifts you to enter you from behind again-

No Azriel freezes as soon as the thought enters your mind. You panic realising he thinks you want him to stop. No, Azriel. You lean your head back on his shoulder to meet his eyes. I want to see you, want to touch you.

Azriel’s eyes soften and he lays you on the bed next to Cassian.

Both so pretty. He murmurs as he lines himself up with you, appreciating the view of you and Cassian laid out before him. And mine. A darkness swirls in his eyes at the claiming and a thrill runs through you. Cassian trails his fingers up your thigh as Azriel enters you.

His thrusts are quick and hard. You let your hands explore up his stomach, across his chest and down his arms as sets an unrelenting pace. It isn’t long before you’re on the edge again but Azriel doesn’t give any indication that he’s anywhere near finished with you.

You drove him near mad that day after training. Cassian whispers into your mind. He’s sensitive to touch, I’ll show you where it affects him the most.

Cassian settles in the back of your mind then and gently instructs you to reach out for his wings. You do as he says and brush a hand along the inside of the warm membrane. A growl rumbles through Azriels chest as he tips his head back. You continue to follow Cassian’s detailed instructions learning the places that pull moans from Azriel’s lips.

A few moments later, Azriel is practically panting above you, pupils blown wide as his hips continue to snap into you. You feel your own tension building alongside his own.

Go with him, baby girl. Cassian purrs as he reaches down and presses firmly on your over sensitive clit. You see white behind your eyes as you finish for the second time tonight.

————————————————————————

You're curled between two Illyrian bodies as only the sounds of soft breathing fill the air. You’ve never felt more safe or more satisfied for that matter. You wonder how things are going to be from now on. Whether your bond will remain a secret like theirs has. Laying on your side, you take in Azriel’s sleeping form and wonder what Cassian meant about ‘releasing Azriel’ onto you. Your pulse quickens, imagining all the things the three of you could get up to together. Cassian’s hand tightens on your hip from behind you as Azriel blinks open his eyes. You flush, clearly they weren’t as asleep as you thought.

Cassian leans in to whisper at your ear.

“Firstly, I’m glad you feel both safe and satisfied because that’s what we’re here for.” His nose brushes along your neck. “Secondly, we’ll figure out the bond together. Nothing will be decided without you.”

Azriel leans forward and whispers against your lips. “Thirdly, you’ll learn soon enough what happens when I get to play my way.” He kisses you softly and Cassian trails kisses down your spine. You know for certain the first thing you're going to do is learn how to block these two from your mind.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- Part 2

#cazriel #cazriel x reader #acotar fic #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x azriel

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milla-frenchy · 11 days ago

Text

Friend zone

3k4 | Tim Rockford x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: an event leads your best friend to reveal a secret he's been keeping from you for years, and you finally find what you've been searching for Warnings: 18+ mdni. best friends to lovers, soft!Tim, a few pussy and dick pronouns, praise kink, size kink, Tim can lift reader, intimacy, closeness, feelings, fingering, oral (m/f), piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n: This is probably one of my softest fics, but I guess I needed it this week? this is written for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality ‘s "writing through the seasons" challenge (masterlist) I got Tim/fall with the prompt "Come on, a few kisses won't ruin our friendship" and a beautiful mood board you can see at the end of the fic ❤️ thank you so much for this challenge 🙏❤️ thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing me and for helping me when I was stuck with this fic 😘🫶 If you wanna read another “Timmy” fic, go check Tiny Timy @604to647 and The Rockford Portfolio I love these two 🥰🥰 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

Tim was the epitome of reliability. Responsible, mature, always the designated driver for your group of friends when you were spending a night at a bar, always ready to hold your hair when you were throwing up from too much alcohol, always there for you when you were crying in his arms after another random asshole broke your heart.

A pure green flag.

You… you were a bee, fluttering from flower to flower, drawn to the carnivorous ones. The bigger red flags the men were, the faster you flew towards them. Never learning from your mistakes, chasing something they couldn’t inherently offer you, you dried your tears on Tim’s shoulder, while he would slowly stroke the back of your neck, holding you against him, telling you they didn't deserve you.

Then you went back to pollinating.

So when he called you that night, his voice slightly wavering and tinged with alcohol, you rushed over to his place. It wasn't like him to drink too much.

You used the key he had given you long ago to open his apartment, just like he had the key to yours, and went straight to his bedroom.

He was lying on his bed, a glass and a half empty bottle of whiskey sat on his nightstand. You put your jacket on a chair in the corner, settled down next to him and leaned against the headboard. You told him softly to rest his head on your stomach and brushed his curls. He mumbled a string of words and you listened to each one of them, even if you didn’t understand what he was saying, until he stopped talking and sighed.

“I’m gonna get you some water, ok?”

You held the glass while he drank, then undressed him, taking off his shoes, the suit jacket, the shirt, his pants and socks, so that he would be more comfortable sleeping.

You stayed with him all night, checking on him a few times.

When he woke up, you were making breakfast wearing one of his t-shirts, since you had left your apartment in a hurry the evening before, forgetting to grab some of your stuff.

You handed him a cup of coffee and sipped from your own mug, looking at him as he sat down on the kitchen’s stool and placed his cup on the counter. He had put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was disheveled.

“You’re ok?” you asked.

“Yeah…” He took a sip of coffee and put the mug down, his gaze lost in the brown liquid.

It wasn’t like him, but you didn't want to rush him, and you knew he'd talk when he was ready.

“I made scrambled eggs and toast, you want some?”

He nodded and you both ate in silence.

“See? I can do better than burnt toast sometimes. Despite your doubts, which are very hurtful by the way."

You wanted to lighten his mood, lift the weight off his shoulders, whatever the cause. He smiled, and it eased your heart a little. It was a start.

“Thank you for the breakfast, sweetheart. Didn’t have to.”

“ ‘course I did. You need to evaporate all that alcohol…” you told him, raising your eyebrows. Playing the role that had been his so far. Maybe a little harsher than him.

“I know what you’re doing,” he smiled.

“Oh really? And what am I doing, Detective?”

“Playing my usual part. You like it?”

It made you chuckle, until you realized how much you'd been relying on him all these years. The stress you must have put him under.

“You’re gonna have to tell me what happened, you know. Otherwise, I'll still be here at noon, and I'm not promising anything for lunch with my cooking skills.”

You expected him to laugh, but he frowned and withdrew, his shoulders hunching inward.

“Shit, Timmy, what’s going on, you’re scaring me,” you said as you got up from your stool and placed your hand on his shoulder.

You called him Timmy in two situations. When you were drunk, or when things were really serious. It always made him laugh, using that ridiculous nickname in difficult moments. He knew that calling him like that had always been a way for you to calm down, and when he looked up at you with his sad brown puppy eyes your heart melted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok, just… Maybe I can help if you tell me what happened?”

He sighed, and you waited, preoccupied. You’d never seen him like this in all your years of friendship. He finally gave in and said, “I was on a mission last night. It… went bad.”

“What? How bad?”

“A bullet flew an inch by my head.” His gaze was set on his plate and you squeezed his shoulder harder.

“Oh my god, Tim!”

“My partner shot the guy…probably saved me.” He paused, then added “when I got back here I started to drink. To ease up the adrenaline, maybe. But… that’s not what I needed.”

You were in shock. Of course you knew his job was dangerous, but it had never been that bad. Imagining that the bullet could have hit him made you tremble, as the fear of losing Tim gripped your mind. You tried to push the thought away.

“What did you need, then?”

He cleared his throat, obviously thinking about choosing his words carefully.

“People say when death is close, you see your whole life flash before your eyes. But I didn’t see it. I saw…”

He stopped, and you had no idea what he had in mind. You grabbed both of his shoulders to turn him towards you, to make him face you.

“What did you see, Tim?”

He looked up at you, hesitant, and you nodded encouragingly.

“I saw you. I was terrified that I would never see you again.”

You frowned, wondering why you had been in his thoughts like that, at that moment.

And then it hit you.

Your eyes widened as he lowered his, unsure if you would release his shoulders or hold on tight to them.

“Tim…”

“It’s ok. It’s ok. You don’t have to say anything. I know that you don’t see me like this.”

He glanced at you again, trying to smile, trying to comfort you, as if you were the one who needed it. But he failed, his smile vanishing before it reached his lips and it tore your heart in two. You wondered how long he'd been seeing you like… this. How could have you been so blind? You thought of all the times he comforted you because of other men and it made you feel sick.

“Get up, Tim, please,” you asked.

You hugged him once he was standing, wrapping your arms around his broad frame to soothe him. He was tense at first, as if petrified by the closeness, hesitant to hold you, until you felt his muscles relax slightly and he placed his hands on your back. You tilted your face up towards him and your lips gravitated to each other.

You don't know who initiated the crush of your lips, his hands on your hips, yours around his neck. You just knew it felt like a desperate need. Maybe for Tim it was a response to the shock of what had happened the day before, and years of yearning. Maybe for you it was the acknowledgement of needing him differently.

You dragged him towards the couch while you were still kissing and collapsed on it, pressing him against you.

It's strange how kissing your best friend feels so familiar yet so bizarre. Like you're in the most comfortable place in the world, but you had to brave the "no entry" sign to get there.

It was what you were feeling, kissing Tim. The skin under your fingers, the scent in your nostrils, you knew them perfectly well. But you didn't know them like this, dedicated to you at that moment, turned toward you. Intimate.

He ran his nose down your cheek and nuzzled your neck, and you were already moaning, your body tingling. Was it possible that the sensation you'd been chasing for years was actually waiting for you right at your fingertips?

“I don't wanna lose you, by doing this. You’re the one I care about most in the world, always have been,” he said suddenly.

“Come on, a few kisses won't ruin our friendship.”

You didn't know if it was a lie you were telling yourself, didn't know what the consequences would be. Your brain was foggy, full of desire and need. You didn't want to slow down, push him away, end that unexpected moment that your whole body was craving.

His hand wrapped around your neck as he peppered kisses to the other side, just below your earlobe. Eyes closed, hands running through his hair, thighs pressed together trying to ease the tension that was already burning your core, your breathing hitched.

“Tim,” you whined, your tone needy, just as your hands roaming his body.

“Yeah,” he said, before crushing his lips on yours again, then dragging his beard and moustache along your skin down to your collarbone. His hand slipped under your shirt and cupped your breast as if it were one of the most delicate things in the world.

“You smell like me”, he groaned. He grabbed your tit harder, unable to suppress a grunt.

“Shit,” you said, clasping the hem of your top to pull it off. His eyes landed on your breasts and he bent down to take one in his mouth and suck on it. You always thought that that zone was not sensitive for you, almost annoyed when some of your dates would focus on them, and you were realizing how wrong you were. It’s just that no one had been able to do it like you needed until then, to the point that you wondered if you were going to come just like that.

Feeling how responsive your body was, Tim groaned from the depth of his chest and buried his face between your breasts before licking the other tit.

“Give me your hand,” you croaked, your voice hoarser than it had ever been. You pulled your panties to the side and pressed his fingers against your heat. Feeling your arousal made him growl. “Jesus, you're soaked, baby,” he breathed, hastily pushing two thick, warm digits into your cunt, deeper than any man before him, making you pant.

You curled your fingers around his wrist, setting the pace you needed. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re droolin’ for me. How does it feel?” he asked, his voice soft like velvet, before taking your nipple back in his mouth.

“Good. Fucking good, Tim. Oh my god!”

Instinctively knowing what you needed, his thumb rested against your clit then rubbed it, his fingers still pushing into you.

“Fuck you’re so wet… You're gonna come for me, baby? Just by me sucking on your tits and fingering you?”

You nodded vigorously, biting your lips, knowing it was only a matter of minutes or even seconds before it would happen.

“Good girl,” he smirked, licking at your breasts again, your eyes rolling at the back of your skull at his praise.

You mewled when you came, squeezing his wrist, pussy clenching on his fingers.

“Yeah, that's it baby, come for me,” he said, straightening up, eyes fixed on yours. “I got you, you're so goddamn pretty, all spread for me.”

His praise made you clench one more time on his digits.

“Oh, so you like it when I talk to you like that,” he said, eyes full of desire and lust.

You were a needy mess, your eyes silently assenting for you, and he kissed you, his big hands holding your face. You felt like home and your heart was about to explode, while you were still moaning in his mouth.

“I dreamed of this,” he murmured between kisses. “Dreamed of seeing you collapse in my arms, hearing you whimper and moan for me. And it’s even better than what I had imagined.”

“Tim, please…” you whined against his soft lips.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

Your foreheads rested against each other, your breathing slowly calming while his only increased.

“Everything. I want everything,” you said, gaze locked with his. “I need all of you.”

He nodded, in his own Tim way. As someone who wants to offer everything he has to give, someone who means it.

He stood up and took off his shirt, while you were looking at him. Not the way you used to look at him when you went to the beach and walked side by side toward the ocean in your swim suits. Or when he helped you to renovate your home and ended up shirtless because of the heat.

Your eyes sparkled as if you were seeing him and his body for the first time. Broad, strong, reassuring. Your eyes roamed from his broad shoulders to his bulging biceps, and finally reached his happy trail peeking out from his sweatpants that he was wearing low on his hips.

He reached out his hand towards you to help you get up and you faced each other.

“Take me to your bedroom,” you murmured.

He grabbed your thighs to lift you up, and you held onto him, pressing your lips against his, searching his tongue with yours, as he led you to his bed where he gently set you down.

The outline of his hard cock traced a curve across his sweats, so you grabbed the waistband and slid them down, his thick cock springing free up against his stomach.

“Shit, Tim…”

He brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart, you know that?”

“Are you kidding me? She’s gorgeous… your cock’s gorgeous.”

He stroked your cheek again, gently, and murmured a soft "okay."

You'd kissed, sucked, and fucked several men. Some of them were quickly forgotten, some weren’t. But when you circled Tim’s shaft with your slightly trembling fingers, then licked and sucked him, it felt different. It probably transpired in the intimacy and softness you displayed. As if you wanted the love (deep, but friendly until that day. And so indefinable right now) you felt for him to shine through the care you put into it.

A mixture of tenderness and need.

His hand froze at the back of your head several times, grunts falling from his mouth when you sucked his tip, licked his shaft, or took one of his balls in your mouth, worshiping every inch of his delicate skin. Your hand ran up his thigh to his ass. You listened to his “oh fuck, baby,” his “shit, sweetheart,” his “you’re doing so good.” Praised by his words and sounds, you could have done it for hours, but his panting increased, until he mumbled, “baby… I’m afraid to come if you keep going.”

You pulled back, wiping the saliva that had dripped down your chin with the back of your hand, your gaze slowly moving up from his stomach and his chest to his eyes. You couldn’t keep your gaze from him.

“You’re so beautiful, Tim,” you said. You’d always known he was, of course, but your eyes saw so much more now.

Your words made that 6’ tall and strong man blush. “Oh come one, sweetheart. You’re the only beautiful one here, and I don't wanna hear otherwise."

“Awww, bossy,” you replied with a smirk until the urge of having more of him became unbearable. “Take off your clothes, Tim.”

“Who’s bossy now?” he started to chuckle, but quickly stopped when his cock twitched against his lower abdomen. He took off his clothes that had fallen to his ankles, kneeled at the foot of the bed and slid your panties down.

“So many times, I thought about how you’d taste. Imagining your fingers lost in my hair. You moaning for me.”

He placed his hand on your stomach, urging you to lie down, legs spread on either side of his torso, and his nose ran a line from your clit to your folds, before giving way to his tongue, warm and curious. His hands grabbed your thighs and he placed them on his shoulders, feasting on you as if you were a fruit in the heat of summer. Your hands found their natural place in his hair, just as he'd predicted. Your moans mingled with his, his tongue lapping at your pussy so perfectly, so intimately, repeatedly. It didn't take long for you to come in his mouth, his name escaping your lips, and when your shaking stopped, he pulled you towards him, setting you down on the carpeted floor of his room.

“You came so quickly for me, baby. You’re perfect,” he said and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. Time froze for a moment, until he pulled back a little and settled between your thighs, his dark, lust-filled gaze fixed on you, beard and moustache glistening with your arousal, his hard cock swinging between your bodies.

“Kiss me again, Tim, please,” you murmured, and his soft lips brushed yours, teasing at first, but soon they were against yours, kissing you like no one had ever done before. Tenderly, so different from the fire that was burning your core.

Your hand traveled from the back of his neck, down to his shaft, nestling his tip at your entrance, and he pulled away just enough to look at you as he matched your thrust and pushed into you. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the sensation of his cock spreading you open, and your heart exploded like Fourth of July fireworks.

His hand on your cheek which he caressed with his thumb, it was almost too much, to feel him inside you, on you, against you.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his gaze lowered to you, set on you, he seemed wrecked and so were you probably.

“I know, Tim. Oh god, I know,” you whined. Your hands gripped his hips, pulling him deeper into you, if that was possible.

“I wanted this, baby. Needed this for so long. To feel you around me, and it’s… so good,” he said, panting, kissing your neck before returning to your lips, his hands running over your body. Yours were on his shoulders, holding him tight, as if you were afraid of letting him go, of losing him.

His shaft brushed against that perfect spot and you felt another climax build, squeezing him between your folds, clinging onto him with your whole body.

Tim wrapped his hand around your neck, the back of it rubbing against the sheet with each of his hip thrusts.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna… gonna make me come.”

“Come with me, Tim. Please, I’m so close, and I wanna feel you come at the same time. Please….”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he managed to say, licking at your neck, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You dug your fingers into the skin of his biceps as you came and you felt his cock twitch, his cum covering your walls, making you nibble at his freckled shoulder.

You stayed as one for several minutes, you caressing his shoulders, him kissing your temples, until he pulled away slowly and grabbed the sheet to cover your bodies then held you against the warmth of his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing your arm with his fingers, giving you another set of goosebumps.

“Yeah… Yeah,” you answered, trying to process what happened, understand your feelings. Trying to contain the worry that was about to smother your heart, whispering in your ear that things would go back to the way they were before.

And you didn’t want to.

“You sure?” he insisted, feeling you weren't really ok, reading you like an open book as always. You raised your face to his, chewing on your lower lip.

“You know you can tell me everything, right? No matter what, sweetheart.”

“I want you to hold me in your arms and tell me you won’t let me go,” you admitted, offering him the candor you’d always shown each other. “I want you to tell me that you want this to happen again.”

“Oh, baby…” He opened his arms and you cuddled against him, as he held you tight. “I won’t let you go, and I want this to happen again. I want you as my everything. Best friend and… mine.”

“Yours?”

“Mine. Anything else is impossible now.”

You nodded.

“Yours, Tim.”

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lost-in-thoughts03 · 2 months ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

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Summary: You start to regain your senses. You wake up in the morning with a severe headache. You went downstairs to drink some water, but seeing In-ho made you thirsty for more.

" Do you fancy sitting down with me maybe? 'Cause you're all I need."

Warning: Headache, In-ho being In-ho, flirty conversation, mutual-pinning, tension, caring In-ho, teasing, grammatical error

A groan escaped your lips as you stirred awake, your head pounding like a drum. The morning light filtering through the window didn’t help, making you wince as you slowly sat up.

You blinked, looking around. This… wasn’t your place. The neatly arranged furniture, the crisp scent of cologne mixed with coffee—it all screamed In-ho.

The memories of last night were hazy, but you vaguely recalled him dragging you out of the club, lecturing you like some overprotective guardian. You probably passed out in his car, which would explain why you were now in his bed.

With another groan, you forced yourself up, rubbing your temples as you stumbled toward the kitchen, desperate for water.

And that’s when you saw him.

Standing by the stove, casually flipping something in a pan, was In-ho—completely shirtless.

Your sleep-ridden brain short-circuited.

His back was turned to you at first, giving you a perfect view of his toned shoulders, the strong muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moved.

His broad frame tapered into a lean waist, the defined ridges of his back leading down to where his dark trousers sat low on his hips. And when he finally turned, giving you a full view of his front—well, you almost forgot how to breathe.

His chest was sculpted, his abs sharply defined, each line accentuated by the soft glow of morning light. His biceps flexed slightly as he reached for a plate, completely unbothered by the way you were blatantly staring.

Your mouth had gone dry. Or maybe you were still drooling. Who knew?

In-ho’s lips curved into a smirk as he finally met your gaze. “ Morning, sleeping beauty.” He greeted smoothly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “ You’re up earlier than I expected.

You barely registered his words, too busy trying to not let your gaze drop to the dip of his V-line. But he noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

His smirk widened. “ Are you checking me out?”

You snapped out of your trance, face instantly heating up. “ W-What?! No!”

He chuckled, setting the spatula down as he leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest—only making his muscles more prominent. “ You sure? ‘Cause you’ve been staring for a while.”

You tore your gaze away, suddenly very interested in the kitchen tiles. “ Why are you even topless?” you muttered, trying to sound unimpressed, though your burning cheeks betrayed you.

He shrugged, acting nonchalant. “ I usually sleep shirtless. But if I knew you’d be so fascinated, I would’ve covered up.” His tone was laced with teasing, his grin downright smug.

You scowled, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water, refusing to meet his gaze. “ You’re annoying.”

“ And you’re a terrible liar.” He shot back smoothly, grabbing a plate and sliding some food onto it.

" How are you feeling?" He asks, far too smug for your liking.

" Like death." You grumble, running a hand through your hair. " What happened last night?"

His smirk widens. " Oh, so you don’t remember?"

Something in his tone makes your stomach flip. You narrow your eyes. " Remember what exactly?"

He hums in mock thought, strolling over to lean against the arm of the couch, far too close for comfort. " Let’s see…You were very affectionate last night."

You blink. " Affectionate?"

" Mhmm." He tilts his head, pretending to think. " Clingy, even. Kept touching my face. Told me I had ‘pretty eyes’ at least a dozen times."

Your eyes widen in horror. " I did not."

" You did." He insists, grinning. " Oh, and at one point, you asked if my lips were really as soft as they looked."

You choke on air. " Lies!"

" Should I keep going?"

You scramble for memories, but all you get are hazy flashes—In-ho’s face close to yours, the warmth of his body, your own voice teasing him—Wait...

Oh. Oh no.

Your face burns as bits and pieces come back. You have been very touchy. You had definitely learned in too close, whispered things that sober you would never dare say.

And In-ho—being the composed, maddeningly controlled man he was—had somehow resisted.

You bury your face in your hands. " I hate myself."

In-ho chuckles. " Don’t worry. I handled it like a gentleman."

You peek at him through your fingers. " Meaning?"

He leans in, voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. " Meaning I almost lost my mind, but I have self-control—unlike someone."

You shove him, mortified. " Shut up!"

He just laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. " You know, if you ever want to test that theory again—"

" ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

This is never happening again.

...Right?

“ Now sit down and eat. You’ll need something in your stomach after all that drinking.” He spoke.

Despite your embarrassment, you obeyed, plopping onto a chair with a pout. But you still stole a few glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Unfortunately for you, he always was.

The quiet clinking of utensils filled the air as you focused on your plate, hoping—praying—that In-ho would drop the teasing and let you eat in peace. Your headache was already bad enough without him smirking at you every time you dared to look at him.

But of course, that was wishful thinking.

“ So…” In-ho leaned back in his chair, arms resting lazily on the table as he watched you with that sharp, unreadable gaze. “ Are you gonna tell me why you were at that club last night?”

You froze mid-bite, your fork hovering just inches from your mouth.

He didn’t miss it.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “ Because we both know you’re not the type to go to places like that.”

You swallowed, suddenly losing your appetite. He was right—you never really liked clubs. The loud music, the suffocating crowd, the strangers pressing too close—it wasn’t your scene. You barely even enjoyed social gatherings unless you had to be there.

So why did you go last night?

You played with your food, avoiding his gaze. “ I was just…with friends.” You muttered.

He scoffed. “ Yeah, I got that part. But that’s not the real reason, is it?”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump form in your throat. You didn’t want to admit it. It felt stupid. Weak.

But In-ho wasn’t the type to let things go, especially when it came to you. He leaned in slightly, his voice softer now. “ Y/n…what were you running from?”

Your fingers tightened around your fork. Running.

Maybe that was it.

" I like you, Jun-ho."

For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes, the ones you had trusted for so long, held something unfamiliar—hesitation. Regret.

" Y/n..." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

" I—I'm sorry."

Just two words, and it was over.

But in the end, it didn’t change a damn thing.

You exhaled sharply, setting your fork down. “ I just wanted to forget, okay?” You admitted, voice quieter than before. “ Just for one night.

In-ho didn’t say anything right away. He just watched you, his expression unreadable, his jaw ticking slightly as if he was processing your words. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“ You could’ve called me.” His voice wasn’t scolding, wasn’t angry—just… disappointed. And for some reason, that made you feel worse. “ You didn’t have to go to some random club and get wasted.”

You huffed, forcing a smirk. “ What, and have you lecture me all night instead?”

He shook his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “ No, idiot. I just wouldn’t have let you drink yourself into a mess.” He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table.

“ Next time you feel like running…just come to me instead.”

Your breath hitched slightly, his words catching you off guard.

It wasn’t just a casual offer—it was him. Letting you know, without saying it outright, that he was someone you could rely on. That no matter what, he’d be there.

And despite everything, despite the mess your life had become…maybe that was enough.

You stared at him, his words lingering in your mind.

Come to me instead.

There was something about the way he said it—so sure, so sincere—that made your heart do an unfamiliar flip in your chest. And before you could stop yourself, the question slipped from your lips.

“ Why do you care so much?”

In-ho, who had just taken a bite of his food, visibly tensed. Then, to your surprise, he choked.

He coughed violently, hurriedly reaching for his glass of water while you watched, half-concerned, half-amused. “ Oh my god.” You deadpanned. “ Are you okay?”

He waved a hand, still coughing as he gulped down the water. After a moment, he finally managed to breathe again, his face slightly flushed—whether from choking or your question, you weren’t sure.

“ W-What kind of question is that?” He stammered, avoiding your eyes as he set his glass down.

You raised an eyebrow. “ A pretty normal one, considering you keep acting like my personal bodyguard.”

He scoffed, regaining some of his composure. “ I’m not your bodyguard.”

“ No? Then why’d you drag me out of the club? Why’d you let me crash here? Why’d you cook me breakfast?” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm as you gave him a knowing look. “ Sounds like someone cares.”

His jaw clenched. You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to come up with something—anything—that wouldn’t give away too much.

Finally, he exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “I just—look, someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “ You’re reckless, Y/n. And I—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “ It’s just not safe for you to be wandering around drunk.”

You squinted at him. “ That’s not an answer.”

“ It’s the only one you’re getting.” He shot back, picking up his coffee as if that settled it.

You huffed, but didn’t press further. Maybe you were too hungover to keep digging. Maybe part of you didn’t want to hear the real answer. Because deep down, you already knew.

This wasn’t just about protecting you.

But for now, you let him have his excuse.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, watching him as he sipped his coffee like he hadn’t just fumbled his way through that excuse. Typical In-ho. Always composed, always in control—except, apparently, when it came to answering a simple question about you.

“ So, what?” You teased, tilting your head. “ I’m just a reckless idiot you feel obligated to look after?”

He didn’t even look at you. “ Something like that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “ Liar."

That made him glance at you, his expression unreadable. “ Excuse me?”

“ You’re lying.” You said bluntly, crossing your arms. “ If it was just an obligation, you wouldn’t have let me sleep in your bed, and you definitely wouldn’t be cooking me breakfast half-naked like some—” Your words cut off when your eyes involuntarily flickered to his chest again.

Bad move.

In-ho caught it instantly, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “ Like some what?” He prodded, setting his cup down and leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His tone had shifted—less defensive, more teasing.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm. “Like…I don’t know. A damn boyfriend or something.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you expected.

For a split second, something flickered in In-ho’s eyes—something unreadable, something dangerous. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that infuriating smirk.

“ Well.” He said smoothly, “ If that’s how you see it, maybe you should start calling me that.”

Your eyes widened. “ What?!”

He chuckled, leaning back again, clearly enjoying your reaction. “ What? You said it, not me.”

Your face burned. “ That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“ Mm-hmm.” He took another slow sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup like he was thoroughly entertained.

You scowled, grabbing a piece of toast and aggressively biting into it. “ You’re the worst."

He grinned. “ And yet, here you are, eating the breakfast I made for you.”

You had no comeback for that, so you just kept chewing, refusing to meet his gaze.

But as much as you wanted to act annoyed, a small part of you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest.

Because despite all his teasing, despite his frustrating deflections…

You knew he cared.

The rest of breakfast went by with playful jabs and smug glances from In-ho, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of another reaction. Instead, you focused on your food, willing the heat in your face to go away.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke again, his tone softer this time. “ So…are you feeling any better?”

You glanced up at him, chewing your toast a little slower. There was no teasing in his expression now—just quiet concern.

Your headache was still lingering, but it had dulled significantly. More than that, though, the weight in your chest from last night didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the sleep, or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that he was here.

“ Yeah.” You admitted, looking down at your plate. “ Thanks…for everything.”

In-ho didn’t say anything right away. When you finally glanced up, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if he should.

Then, as if deciding against it, he leaned back in his chair and smirked. “ Don’t mention it. Just try not to get yourself into trouble again, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “ No promises.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “ Of course not.”

Despite the conversation from earlier, despite the teasing, despite everything—there was something comforting about this moment. Sitting across from him, sharing breakfast, feeling like—for once—you weren’t completely alone in all of this.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be.

...

After finishing breakfast, you stretched your arms and stood up, gathering the dishes. “ Alright, since you cooked, I’ll do the dishes.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. “ You? Doing the dishes?”

You shot him a glare. “ What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirked. “ Nothing. Just…I don’t remember you being the type to do house chores willingly.”

You huffed, marching toward the sink. “ Well, there’s a first time for everything. Now go sit down and let me do this.”

But, of course, he didn’t listen. Instead, he stood up. “ I’ll help.”

“ I got it.”

“ I don’t trust you not to break a plate.”

You gasped, turning to him with an offended expression. “ Excuse me?!”

He chuckled, already grabbing a sponge and lathering it up with soap. “ Relax, just pass me the dishes.”

You muttered under your breath but didn’t argue further, handing him a plate while you rinsed another. The two of you worked in a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, standing side by side in the small kitchen.

Then, suddenly, you felt something soft touch your nose.

You blinked, pausing mid-rinse as you saw In-ho grinning at you, his finger still raised. He had just wiped a bit of soapy foam onto your nose.

“ In-ho.” You warned, scrunching your nose as you wiped it off.

His grin widened. “ That was cute.”

You groaned, turning back to the dishes—only for him to do it again. This time, he dotted bubbles on your cheek, making you scowl. “ Stop that.”

He laughed, clearly entertained. “ But you look adorable like this.”

You exhaled sharply, your patience thinning. Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this?

Without warning, you grabbed a handful of bubbles from the sink and smeared them all over his face.

In-ho froze.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, but when you saw his entire face covered in soap suds, you couldn’t help it. “ Oh my god.” You giggled. “ You look like—like a snowman!”

His lips parted slightly, as if he couldn’t believe what you had just done. Then, slowly, he wiped some foam from his chin and flicked it at you. “ Oh, you’re dead.”

You yelped, grabbing more bubbles and smearing them onto his hair this time. He groaned, trying to shake them off, but you only laughed harder. “ You actually look kinda adorable.”

“ Adorable?” He echoed, giving you an unimpressed look.

You grinned, still playfully wiping more bubbles onto his face. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. “ That’s enough.” He murmured.

You tried to pull back, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he took a step forward, and suddenly, your back was pressed against the sink.

Your breath hitched.

The mood shifted.

His grip on your wrist wasn’t forceful, but it was firm, his fingers warm against your skin. The laughter between you had faded, replaced by something thicker, heavier.

He was close—too close. Close enough that you could see the way his wet lashes framed his dark eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed.

His gaze flickered down—to your lips.

Your heart pounded.

You swallowed hard, your own eyes locking onto his. Neither of you spoke. The only sound in the kitchen was the faint dripping of water from the sink, but even that felt distant compared to the pounding in your chest.

His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t step back. He just kept staring at you, like he was debating something.

Like he wanted something.

And you?

You weren’t sure if you wanted to stop him.

The air between you was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze setting every nerve in your body on edge. Then, without a word, In-ho leaned in—closer, closer—until his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was sudden, heated, and all-consuming.

A small gasp escaped you, but he didn’t give you a chance to process before he deepened it, his hand moving to cup your jaw, tilting your face up as he devoured you.

Your fingers instinctively tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in, applying more pressure as your body melted against his. He let out a quiet groan at your response, his grip on your waist tightening as he pressed himself against you, caging you between him and the sink.

He kissed you like he had been holding himself back for too long. Like now that he finally had you, he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. His lips moved against yours with a desperate, unspoken hunger, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth, tasting, taking—claiming.

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers trailed from your waist to your back, pulling you impossibly closer. The heat between you was intoxicating, making your mind hazy, your body burning with every movement.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, lost in him, in the way his lips molded so perfectly against yours, in the way his body pressed against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

All you knew was that this wasn’t enough.

You wanted more.

Until the realization hits you.

Panic grips your chest as you break the kiss, pushing against In-ho’s bare shoulders and stepping back. Your heart is still racing, your lips still tingling, but the overwhelming rush of guilt and confusion swallows everything whole.

“ This is wrong.” You whisper, shaking your head. “ This—this shouldn’t be happening.”

You turn on your heel, ready to leave—to run from the storm you just created. But before you can take another step, a firm hand wraps around your wrist.

In an instant, you’re spun back around and slammed against the wall. A small gasp escapes you as your back hits the cold surface, and before you can react, In-ho is right there, pressing into your space, his presence completely overwhelming.

His hands cage you in, one on your wrist, the other against the wall beside your head. His dark eyes burn into yours, intense and unyielding, making your stomach twist into knots.

You barely have time to protest before his lips crash onto yours again. This time, there’s no hesitation—only hunger, frustration, raw emotion bleeding into every second.

You push against him, trying to resist, but it only makes him tighten his grip, deepening the kiss as if he’s trying to prove something.

And for a second—just a second—you almost give in again.

But then reality strikes, and anger surges through you.

You finally manage to shove him back, your chest heaving, your face flushed with heat. Without thinking, you raise your hand to slap him, but he’s faster.

He catches your wrist midair, his fingers wrapping around it firmly but not harshly. A low chuckle escapes his lips, and that smug, infuriating smirk spreads across his face.

That smirk makes your blood boil.

“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You seethe, struggling against his grip. “ Why are you doing this?”

In-ho doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his gaze flickering over your face, as if deciding whether to keep playing this game.

But then something shifts.

His smirk fades, his expression hardening. His grip on your wrist loosens—not enough to let you go, but just enough for you to feel the tension crackling in the air.

“ You really don’t see it, do you?” He mutters, his voice lower now, raw with something you can’t quite place.

You glare at him. “ See what?”

His jaw clenches. His patience—already worn thin—is slipping away entirely.

Then, finally, he exhales sharply and looks you dead in the eye.

“ I love you."

In-ho is finally dropping the "L" word. He finally moved the glass.

What's going to happen next?

What do you guys think?

N/A: Y/n and Jun-ho met when they were 16. In-ho, on the other hand, began to like her when she reached her legal age—around the time Y/n was in her twenties. (I need to clarify this to avoid misunderstandings between the characters)

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

See u in part 7. 😉

@alliyah-ll @maah-sama @colorwastaken @frontwomann @evyiione

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