#(950 WORDS)

[rockingrobin69]

Arshole to arsehole violence

Malfoy is long silences and twitchy fingers. He never smiles, but doesn’t always scowl anymore, and he doesn’t speak, although Harry hears him practice sometimes. At night when everyone else is asleep. Slow, scratchy notes from behind the bathroom door. He probably does it in front of the mirror, watches the thick lump of his tongue barely move behind his chapped lips. Harry sure does stare at it a lot. Finds himself picturing Malfoy’s mouth even when he isn’t looking.

Malfoy is turtlenecks and socks. It’s roasting hot inside the house and he’s always covered, as if on principle. Sometimes Harry wants to shout: we know, all right, we all know about the mark, and we know about the scars, and we fucking know, so cut it out already. His socks are unerringly straight and perpetually black. Sometimes Harry wonders how he knows to match them if they’re all the bloody same. Finds himself thinking, what if they are both left-feet right now, and how would he even know?

Malfoy is infuriating eyerolls and sort-of funny sighs. For someone who reportedly hasn’t said a word in however-many years he’s one expressive wanker. Harry, dunno, kind of likes it when Malfoy’s eyebrow arches and he instantly knows what that means. Likes that they get to look at each other when the adults are being arseholes and know, immediately, that Malfoy sees it too.

Malfoy is petty and cranky, is sarcasm and impatience, is angry, all the time, anger-anger non-stop every minute of every hour of every day. He sleeps as badly as Harry and he eats even worse and he’s constantly walking around like it’s everyone else’s fault, and he’s determined to make them pay. Harry… yeah. Harry can’t say he’s so different after all.

It’s weird that they’re not kids anymore. Harry’s so used to having to prove himself, to fight for a seat at the table, that he still does it subconsciously, and sometimes even for Malfoy’s sake. Not because—it’s not that he trusts him. It’s not that Malfoy did one useful thing for them ever since the big one. But it’s them against Molly and Albus, against mum and Moody. It’s them versus them, and Harry, uncomfortably, got used to the new world order. There’s always a lot of getting used to and discomfort. There’s always a lot of shit, and now Malfoy lives here.

Sometimes Harry says mean things to him just for the practice. Like ‘What happened, wolf got your tongue?’ or ‘better for everyone if you were just dead’ or ‘off my fucking bed, Malfoy, it’s mine, get off’. Sometimes even that isn’t enough and he says really, really nasty stuff, like, ‘is that why they didn’t want you at Grimmauld anymore?’ and watch with satisfaction as all the colour drains out of Malfoy’s face and the way he sort of, crumples into himself, goes small-small-small until the sour patch in the base of Harry’s throat throbs. It’s usually enough to drag something terrible out of him, a truly wild revenge the sort Harry can only dream of: Malfoy is creative and fucking diabolical. Harry thinks that’s when they get along best—when they’re being as cruel as bloody possible, when they break everything around to the tiniest bits and devour it ravenously, choke on it.

The part about Grimmauld stings him too. That they didn’t want him there either. That the fucking Marauders who thought they were so cool and good and dangerous chose Malfoy of all people to crash with them for all that time and didn’t even let Harry come visit.

What’s so special about Malfoy, anyway? Apart from the not-talking and the pacing around like a cat in a cage, apart from how he’s always so fucking serious and nippy and oh-so alert. Apart from the arch of his calves and the way his neck goes just about forever, and the shell of his ear and the tilt of his lips. How he leans on walls and every single doorway, how he breathes real deep and the look in his eyes. How he climbs in Harry’s bed and refuses to leave, just, refuses, stretching and moaning until Harry has no choice but to give up. Malfoy’s a slut and Harry’s so into it that he can hardly speak sometimes. Maybe that’s why Malfoy’s really quiet, and not the whole tongue thing. It’s been years and he should have got a lot better by now.

Maybe that’s the thing that drives Harry mad (he means, the most, more than the rest of it). Malfoy should have been fucking over it, the way all the others seem to be, Ron and Gin and Hermione and Dean and Neville. But he’s like Harry, like that. Bitter. Not better.

Malfoy is mostly a riddle and a curse. And a distraction, sometimes, in the brand-spanking-new world everyone seems so excited about, and a co-conspirator and a nemesis number two. He’s pathetic, and gorgeous, the sexiest thing Harry’s ever seen with both eyes, and just enough of a wet-cat to high-kick all the right places in Harry’s belly. Harry can’t stand him and wants him, badly, worse than he’s ever wanted anything: and has him, has him, clasped so tight he’s gagging, and begging for Harry’s hands to go tighter still. He’s a slut for pain and Harry is too, he’s a maniac and Harry is worse, he’s beyond repair and Harry is—ha—he’s the rat and Harry’s the trap, he's the parasite to Harry’s host, he’s the sickness to his blood and the only thing that matters.

Malfoy is here, which is all of it in a nut shell. And Harry won’t let go.

[feelingthedisaster]

docs, why do you mean my chapter is 650 words?????? its 1k, what are u saying???

[sealofarchives]

Oneshot scenario: Leo x GN!Reader - Late Hour Conversations

Prompt: A surprise visit from Leo when the reader couldn't make it to the lair due to pms (tone can be viewed as platonic or romantic)

Warnings: mostly towards the topic of pms (nothing too graphic though) and a slight mention of throwing up (again not too graphic)

Close to 2 am...

You just woke up from an accidental nap in attempt to get rid of the monthly menstrual headaches. Your phone was a few inches away as you winced grabbing it.

Sorry Leo, I can't make it to the lair today.

I couldn't sleep because of pms and I still have a terrible headache because of it...

The electronic screen laid out the messages you sent a few hours ago. You looked for some other video to watch while adjusting your head back onto the pillow.

The sound of a light blue portal appearing close to your bedside immediately caught your attention. As you tried to sit up while the red slider turtle almost dropped a plastic bag, slightly startled that you were still awake at this hour.

Leo cleared his throat but, still held on the bag filled with menstrual products, attempting to hide the worried look on his face.

"The store ran out on what you usually use so... Think you can manage a few days with these?"

"Its fine thanks but, you're not using this time to skip out on the night patrols?"

"Its been kind of a slow week so not much was happening. Until we all saw your message."

"When you mentioned the headache part, we didn't want to risk making it worse. Since we can get a bit rowdy and I dunno, just one turtle checking up on you seemed like the best idea."

"I'm guessing you guys were panicking when it happened to April."

Leo rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable sitting in a nearby chair.

"I wouldn't call it panicking if we ended up getting pale faces with how Splinter explained it. At least April can make it sound like something out of a scary movie."

The turtle took notice towards a cup by your desk before looking back at you.

"I'd hate to bug you about staying hydrated at this hour but, if the headache's back, I could go grab a refill for you."

A sly smile showed up on your face as you briefly paused the video.

"When you say it like that, you're almost starting to sound like Raph."

Leo got up from the chair as he stuck out his tongue at you, taking the empty drink.

"You and Donnie always forget to eat breakfast right before Raph or Mikey wake up. Just be lucky I haven't told them about it."

The turtle returned back with the glass of water just as you readjusted yourself sitting by the edge of your bed. You briefly muttered a thanks with a remark.

"If you did, you'd be whining about missing a few hours for your well needed beauty sleep."

Leo sat beside you but, ignored the comment. Feeling his face heat up as you sipped your drink.

"You still kind of scared us when you were close to throwing up in the turtle tank. Just taking a shortcut away from reaching your favorite fast food place."

You muttered a geez under your breath, realizing it was a month ago when that happened.

"Don't remind me, I would have to be Donnie's helper for a few weeks if I ended up making a mess on his prized vehicle."

Leo lightly chuckled relaxing his shoulders as he began to stretch.

"I'm pretty sure Donnie will ease up on the workload. The fact you can keep up with his neverending tangents helps a lot. But, in case he gets a little too over his head, just get a spare beach ball-"

You lightly pinched Leo's cheek before going back to finish your drink.

"Yeah no, I can hold my ground against Donnie if he's gonna be stubborn about taking breaks."

"When he claimed, he can surpass my messed up sleep schedule by noon. Around 9 am, when I placed a pillow close to his keyboard. He was already snoring on top of it."

Leo rubbed his cheek while crossing one of his legs on to the edge of the bed.

"I guess any beach ball pranks are out of the question because..."

"I can already imagine you rushing to defend Donnie from those 'dreaded colorful spheres.'"

A light hum and smirk surfaced your face as you pretended to ignore Leo.

"If you keep bringing up it, I'll mostly spare Mikey and Raph and just aim for your face instead."

"Hey, I was kidding about that?! I wouldn't go that far to scare Donnie!"

The red slider turtle pouted as you laughed but, not loud enough to draw attention to your room.

"I know, just wanted to see if you're still keeping up to being the face man of the group~."

"Uh duh, its still part of my image. I don't need to be reminded-"

"Unless you want to keep pestering me about it~."

You playfully pushed Leo away but, grinned back at him.

"I guess I owe you a pizza since my headache hasn't come back to bite me."

"So, thanks Leo..."

Leo almost froze from the hug but, nuzzled near your shoulder because of your high body temperature.

"Are you gonna hate me if I really want pineapple toppings?"

You poked his face with your empty cup as Leo hid his head from your annoyed smile.

"I'll glare at you if you don't give me something in return..."

Leo gave a quick thumbs up before hurrying out of the door to refill your drink.

After a couple of days, both of you reached a compromise on an empty rooftop building, trading the pizza box for your favorite food. You still silently judged Leo's choice of pizza toppings.

However, he was more content that he got to see a genuine smile from you.

Bonus drawing:

I couldn’t draw the body without making it too wonky so here’s a quick sketch of a POV where you don’t notice Leo acting almost soft around you > /// <

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A small snippet from Chapter 3 (Bardie Girl) of my big chapter fic "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human" (Fic is very canon divergent).

Commission cover art here.

Cover art poll here.

Chapter titles here.

A fun piece.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Synopsis

(They'll be no more sneak peeks for the chapter after this. My next goal going forward is to get chapter 3 out! <3 Enjoy! ❤️)

Once upon a time, in a fantastical fantasy realm that was akin to a small girl's dream, there lived a princess.

One glorious afternoon, as the gentle glow of the sun shone brightly in the mesmerizing blue sky, a single cottage castle could be seen standing tall in the center of the forest.

A pair of bluebirds then fly upward into view from below, holding a white banner between their beaks that reads 'Princess Clara's Castle' for a moment before taking off, a trail of clear magic dust fluttering behind them.

The castle resembled a standard cottage home, with white and grey stones used for its exterior construction, but what differentiated it from others was its royal structure.

Inside, Princess Clara slept soundly beneath the comfort of her soft and woolly comforter, dreaming a lovely dream as a cozy smile rested upon her soft and tender face.

While the princess continues to sleep, her bedroom door creaks open as a small group of critters from the forest enter inside.

These cute critters consisted of birds, rabbits, deer, chipmunks, squirrels, and raccoons.

The fauna were her companions and inhabited the castle with her.

As the diverse group of animals crowd together closely around Princess Clara's bedside, a doe lightly nuzzles her cheek with her nose in an attempt to gently wake her.

As the princess slowly opens her eyes, she gets a glimpse of her friends surrounding her bed and lets out the gentlest of laughs.

"Good morning, everyone," she softly greets with a yawn and stretches as she turns to look at the time on her handmade wooden wall clock.

"Well, afternoon," Princess Clara corrects herself with a sheepish smile on her face, rubbing the back of her head with one hand.

Although the princess didn't mean to be such a sleepyhead, she could never resist the temptations of her warm bed.

"Who's hungry?" she asked her animal friends, putting aside her embarrassment for now.

"I'll make up for sleeping in so late with some brunch. How does that sound?"

The offer caused the eyes of the critters to light up with joy as they accepted with nods, causing Princess Clara to giggle in her hand as she sat up.

"Then it's settled," she said, stepping out of bed and dancing across her floorboards on her tippy toes toward her closet while she hummed a merry tune.

Princess Clara's feathery companions tweeted the catchy melody of the song with her, their voices harmonizing beautifully.

Two of them flew over to open her closet door for her, helping the princess slip into one of her favorite house dresses while tossing her nightgown into the hamper.

Now dressed for the day, Princess Clara dips and twirls out of her room and into the kitchen, her forest friends happily following behind her.

...

"Hmm," Princess Clara hummed to herself in thought, tapping her chin with her index finger as she stood in front of her dainty stove, a frying pan sitting on top, as fresh veggies and oil sat on her counter.

Her animal friends, also in the kitchen, were eating their feed of mixed berries that she had prepared for them and placed in pretty porcelain bowls.

"What goes good with fresh veggies?" she whispered.

Tweet, tweet!

Shifting her sights to her open window sill, Princess Clara spots the pair of bluebirds who were holding her banner in the beginning, fluttering over with eggs well wrapped in silk.

The eggs are gently placed on the counter alongside the veggies and oil as the birds took their place on her window sill.

"Oh, eggs! Of course!" Princess Clara exclaims excitedly, finding the answer to her question as she cracks a smile, just like she was planning on cracking those eggs.

"Thank you," the princess told the two birds, who both received gentle rubs to the skin behind their beaks from her as they happily chirped.

With a gentle clearing of her throat, Princess Clara gracefully twirls in place, placing a hand on her chest, and begins to sing lyrics to a theme.

While singing, the princess twirls for a second time, holding out her index finger for one of the bluebirds.

One decides to flap over and step onto it, joining Princess Clara for a lovely duet.

As the caroling continues, the two take turns.

When Princess Clara hits a high note, she allows the bluebird to do the same.

The princess keeps hitting higher and higher notes, and the bluebird struggles to keep up with her.

As the theme comes to a close, Princess Clara hits an ear-piercing high note that causes the bluebird to gradually bloat up and explode.

The princess's eyes widen in shock at this as her animal companions who had witnessed the small explosion gasp.

Horrified looks filled the room.

...

"... And there!" Princess Clara said, carefully slipping the small sweater she had knitted with the assistance of her animal friends onto the bluebird who had previously exploded and was now featherless.

The sweater fit like a glove and had a few of his feathers nicely glued on to it.

When the bluebird gazed down at his new outfit, he instantly let out a chirp in delight, hopping in place.

"Yay! He likes it!" Princess Clara cheered brightly, her animal friends joining her.

Placing her index finger under the bluebird's foot, the princess lifts gently as the bird steps onto her finger and proceeds to perch.

She starts to rub her cheek against the side of his face, causing him to chirp softly at the affection.

"I'm so sorry about that," Princess Clara whispered, soft sincerity weaving through her voice.

She believed that his feathers would eventually return over time.

[rainswept]

ok i lied chapter 1 isn’t coming out tonight BUT the prologue is coming out in like 15 minutes if i remember

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hoppers-babygirl]

Prima Ballerina

Natasha spun round in her pink leotard and tutu, it wasn’t often she found herself with enough free time to refresh her skills but when she could, she took the opportunity. Lorelai was outside in the backyard playing with Dodger, the sight made Natasha smile as she walked into the screened in sunroom. The warmth of the sunshine helped fill the room with relaxation for Natasha.

She played a bit of soft classical music, stretching carefully before she soon found herself dancing around the room on her tippy toes. Her legs ached a bit as it had been a while since she last practiced but she kept dancing. The music grew louder a bit more intense as she danced and twirled round and round. Natasha hadn’t noticed that Ransom had taken Dodger inside to wash up or that Lorelai was sitting in the corner with her juice box watching her mother in awe. Eventually her soft voice spoke up, “Mama?” She asked.

Natasha jolted and stumbled a little as her concentration was broken. She puffed a bit of breath and gave her daughter a smile. “Hey baby, did you get too tired outside?” Natasha walked over to Lor and kneeled beside the girl. Brushing a few sweaty curls from her soft round face.

“How’d you learn to dance like that?” The young girl asked between her last few sips of her juice box. Natasha held back horrific memories at the question.

“When I was a young girl like you I was in ballet class. There weren’t many girls that stayed with the program but those that did became famous dancers. But they live all around the world in all different places.” It wasn’t the truth but also wasn’t quite a lie.. it’s not like the four year old needed to know the exact details, especially when she didn’t have to be exposed to such things.

The little girl looked up at Natasha as if she was a goddess, Natasha leaned in and gave the girls cheek a kiss. “Mama, can I learn to dance with you?”

Natasha smiled brightly and nodded. “Of course you can, babylove. You’ll just need shoes and leggings like mama’s. I can order them for you, let's say after lunch?” Her brow quirked and the young girl nodded enthusiastically.

“Can we have lunchables?” Lor stood up and held her hand out for Nat to get up.

“Why don’t we make one of Mama’s grownups lunchable? You know on that pretty plate you love?” She asked as she stood and took her daughter's hand.

Lorelai bounced up and down happily, Natasha chuckled. “Knew you’d like that baby.”

Natasha turned the music off and led the pair into the kitchen, scooping Lor up she sat her on the countertop while Natasha grabbed the fancy charcuterie board from the island. Lorelai wiggled happily at the sight of the board and traced her little finger on the pattern.

While Lorelai played with the board, Natasha gathered the deli meat and cheese before cutting them into squares like a lunchable as well as grabbing two different crackers for them. “What else do you want, bubble?” She asked her daughter.

Lorelai hummed in thought. “Some strawberries and grapes please.” She said, Natasha then went to the fridge and pulled out the washed fruits before setting them neatly on the board.

“Did you want water or another juice?” She asked, Lorelai having carefully scooted down from the counter so she could stand in front of the fridge that Nat left open.

Natasha chuckled softly at the sight of the little girl in front of the big refrigerator but she grabbed her another juice box and a bottle of water for herself before she handed them to Lor. “Here baby, you take these and Mama will get the food. You just find us something on tv you wanna watch.”

The girl bounced happily and sped off to the big fancy couch that resided in their living room. Ransom was watching the news but Lor pounced on him making him grunt softly from her weight. “Papa!! Is my turn now to watch something.” She whined almost like Natasha would.

Natasha followed in moments later and set the board down on the coffee table. Ransom held Lorelai in his lap as the pair playfully fought for the remote. The little girl giggled profusely as he tickled her sides. “Alright you two, why don’t you both pick something to watch?” She asked as she sat down with them, curling her legs under her a bit.

Lorelai and Ransom conferred in whispers while Natasha ate a ham and cheese cracker, scrolling on her phone looking at ballet outfits for Lorelai. After a few moments Ransom spoke up. “Seems we have come to an agreement, we should watch The Lorax.” He grinned over at Nat, her green eyes flicked up and a smile grew on her lips.

“It’s my favorite movie.” She nodded in agreement, and soon Ransom turned the movie on, the little yellow fluff appeared on the screen.

Her smile grew as she felt little flutters in her tummy, she rubbed her little tummy and ate another cracker as she set her phone aside to cuddle up with her family properly. Lorelai was entranced with the movie, Natasha knew they could finish up their talk about ballet later, right now they were all together as a family.

All four of them even if one happened to be a little speck on a clover flower.

[gayvillainera]

I love writing something incredibly dramatic, feeling silly about it for a minute, and then going no, you know what, I DO have big feelings and if you give me long enough I WILL whip them up into a frenzy of hyperbole and yearning THANK YOU VERY MUCH

[paulandlindasthird]

Guys I met May Pang yesterday. It was awesome and she was so sweet and had purple hair.

[liedownquisition]

ugh. tfw u figure out what you SHOULD HAVE done to write your fic's main/first sex scene but only realize it AFTER you've already posted it with mediocre smut.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[sebsbarnes]

unspoken || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable.

part two!

warnings: angst! insecurity. probably a few grammar errors

word count: 950+

masterlist

a/n: i fear i couldn't resist writing for him. first work for him so there isn't others in the masterlist. i wrote this pretty quick so i apologize in case.

you always fought, but that night you didn't.

it was inevitable that when you and minho were around, some sort of bickering would ensue. it was as if the friendship you had relied on those sharp-tongued comments and eye rolls. there was some enjoyment in the banter; you could always rely on minho to be as quick-witted as you. most of the time, it was truly nonsense and comical to those around you, but sometimes he took it too far.

he would cross a boundary, known or unknown, and the aftermath was either venomous words spilling off your tongue or complete silence and avoidance.

it hurt, to ignore him. act like minho wasn't there. sure you would come around to him after a few days and pick right back up where you left off. and yes maybe it was unfair to ignore him after an argument, but that was you, that's what you did.

what you've really come to recognize is these silly little arguments hurt because you had feelings for minho. you hated the giddy feeling you had when he was around. the slight heat to your cheeks when he gave a real, genuine, compliment. the sizzling sensation that coursed through your skin when his hand brushed against you. or the way it felt like your chest was caving in on you and your lungs were screaming for help when minho confessed to q that he had a crush on someone, someone that isn't you.

so here you were avoiding him after he made an innocent remark about his crush. it shouldn't have, but it rubbed you the wrong way and perhaps it was because of the newfound knowledge of your feelings towards minho.

the evening was approaching and soon the sun would exchange places with the moon. the friday night would come alive and the sounds of eager students heading off campus would echo into the night, almost taunting you in your sadness. there was a nice footpath you've called home for the last week. after classes were finished you found yourself walking on the winding path away from school, taking in the fresh air and allowing yourself some peace. nestled a few feet away from the path was a small gazebo with a picnic table in the center. you sat down and allowed your eyes to close, soaking in the tranquility of nature away from the dizziness of life.

"hey..." a voice called out ripping you back to reality.

the voice. his voice. in this moment it made you feel sick. you swear you could feel the bile rising up and threatening to escape. your vision went white. heart beating so hard you could've sworn you saw its outline rising from your chest.

"hey minho," you exhaled as he sat across from you.

his throat bobbed, "how are you?"

you hummed in response, unsure what to say.

the silence between you stretches longer than it ever has. there was no space for quick-witted responses or light-hearted banter. minho didn't know what was the reason for your absence, but he missed you. when he looked at you your eyes didn't hold that mischief it normally possessed. he knew this was not a moment for a sarcastic quip.

"talk to me," minho nearly pleaded, eyes dancing across your face.

you paused trying to find a way to convey your thoughts to minho without confessing your feelings, "have you ever realized something too late?"

his eyebrow pulled up on his face, "well...of course, yeah. i think we all have."

"like, the thing is right there," you nearly laughed, "right in front of you the whole time. but by the time you realize, it's gone, it's moved on like everything else. i realized the importance of it too late."

you looked to minho who sat silently as you rambled. his eyes were clear of any judgment or jokes. the typical smirk etched on his lips was erased. his brows pulled softly together, a delicate ridge separating them. you watched as his hand snaked up from his lap and cradled your hand. his fingers lazily intertwining with your own.

"you know you can tell me anything," he said softly, his accent lighter.

you offered him a small smile. not a fake one, a real one. you could tell minho everything, everything but this. not when he is interested in someone else, you can't ruin that for him. can't ruin your friendship.

he sensed the hesitation, "...c'mon," he urged gently, eyes hopeful.

there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable. all you wanted to do was scream at the top of your lungs for every person in KISS and for every star in the galaxy to hear that you were falling for minho. but before you could open your mouth and string together all the consonants and vowels for 'minho i'm falling for you' his phone rang.

minho's hand slid out from yours leaving you feeling icy but not as icy as the blood coursing through your body as you watched a shy smile adorn his face. one of his hands ran through his hair, a movement he did when he was feeling nervous, in a good way. you sat in agonizing silence waiting for him to hang up.

a pink hue dusted across his cheeks, "that was uh-"

"go," you replied softly, barely above a whisper, "have fun."

the moonlight that illuminated your face was now blocked my minho's standing figure. if you could, you wanted to be swallowed by his shadow into the darkness.

"oh. what were you going to say before the call?" minho asked.

you shook your head, "it was nothing."

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell... reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~950

Warnings: Nothing yet, maybe just a little angst

a/n: Okay I know this is a drabble but this is definitely getting more parts like I am attached to this storyline now and LOVE that you requested it 🤗

Read part two here

____________________________________________

You leaned against a pillar just outside the school, a twitch creeping up your hands until your fingers spasmed. You shoved them under the bend of your elbows, crossing your arms and biting into your lip. 

She was fine. 

She was more than fine—Velaris was safe. 

Anything would have been safer than facing your father’s wrath back in Autumn, but you had gotten extremely lucky with the timing of your escape. Falling pregnant with your daughter had not been in the cards, especially not after a single night of rebellion, but with Velaris’s doors opening up just days after your healer broke the news, something seemed to be written in the stars. 

But every day was still a gamble; your father could find you at any time. 

The past five years had been a miracle, if you were being honest. 

School was supposed to end two minutes ago. 

Your foot began to shake, popping your knee up and down and making your body vibrate with the anxiety that consumed you. 

You shouldn’t have let her go to school. 

Melanie only had a few friends—neighbor kids whose parents you had vetted extensively—but that had been enough for her to get the idea into her head. You had planned on homeschooling her, or at least waiting until she was a few years older before letting her out into the world. Unfortunately, that had not been Melanie’s plan, and Melanie had so many wonderful plans. As most five-year-olds did. 

Gods, what if—

“First day?” a rumbling voice made you pause your nervous fidgeting. The man spoke again. “If you’re worried, don’t be. The teacher is great. Just forgetful when it comes to time. They are typically a few minutes late every day.” 

You swallowed and turned around despite every voice in your head telling you not to. But those voices in your head were completely and utterly wrong about a multitude of things. Behind you, you found a man—an Illyrian—with wings an ungodly size and shadows swirling down his legs and onto a uniform pool along the ground. And he was gorgeous—unabashedly gorgeous in the most devastating way. 

You looked up from your blatant investigation of him, meeting his eye and stuttering out, “Oh. That’s… that’s good to know. Thank you.” 

If he noticed your stutter, he didn’t make any sign of it. Instead, the man with the wings and the shadows blinked several times, furrowed his brows, and took a step back as if to steady himself. Perhaps, if you weren’t a bundle of unreasonable nervous energy, you would have found his actions strange, but you were. So you simply offered him a superficial, airy laugh and uncrossed your arms. 

“I—” the man began, but he seemed to lose his train of thought, a heat traveling up his cheeks in a way that looked foreign. “I’m Azriel.” 

Oh, wonderful. Introductions. 

You tried your hardest to stay very far away from very many people. It was the best way to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t avoid the neighbors, and you supposed you couldn’t avoid fae like Melanie’s teacher, but this was different. 

Shit. 

You offered your name, anyway, afraid of appearing too outlandish in an otherwise casual setting. 

It would be fine. 

This was fine. 

Azriel repeated it in a breathless way, but then the school bell rang and something seemed to click in his brain. The small smile that had curled up the corner of his mouth became hard and he shot his eyes quickly one way and then the other, inspecting your surroundings. 

Maybe this wasn’t fine. 

“Are you a new mom in the area?” Azriel asked. 

All of your nerves shifted to guarded unease. “I am,” you offered, not caring if it was almost a lie. 

“The moms here don’t usually do the pick ups alone.” 

“You’re doing a pick up alone, it seems.” 

“I’m picking up my nephew,” Azriel explained, relaxing his posture, making himself smaller, seemingly gauging the building tension. “I didn’t mean to come across—I just asked because the mothers here typically have help. From their mates or partners. From the father.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, your next words tumbling out before you could catch them. “Well, I’m alone.” 

Double shit. 

Azriel seemed to let out a breath, his shadows whipping around along the ground. 

You braced yourself for further questioning, for the judgments that would surely follow, but then you were attacked from behind by a pair of arms wrapping around your knees. You turned quickly, scooping your daughter into a hug and promptly dismissing any further conversation with the stranger. 

“Hi, Mel,” you smiled, tucking her hair back as you subtly looked her over. “How was school? Did you like it?” 

“I loved it!” she excitedly replied. She rambled on a bit more after that, retelling her day by the minute. 

You felt eyes on you the entire time. A small boy had run and jumped into Azriel’s arms in your peripheral, but even as the boy talked and talked just as Melanie did, you felt the occasional glance your way. And some of Azriel’s shadows had to be reigned in multiple times, the small wisps licking at your ankles. 

The teacher suddenly spoke up and you were eavesdropping, straining your ears to listen in on her greeting towards the Illyrian.

“Oh, Azriel, lovely to see you. We were hoping the High Lady would be picking Nyx up, but this is even better. There is a showcase in a few weeks that—” 

You felt your world freeze. 

High Lady. 

You had been speaking to someone in close relation to the Night Court. You let someone know your name, told them you were alone with a child, and they had direct access to the High Lord and Lady. 

You whisked Melanie into your arms despite her protests and beelined it home. 

Shit. 

part two

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 890+, 800+, 950+, 950+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Ace, Sabo, Luffy

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, oral (character receiving), masturbation, dub con (using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, (mention of breeding kink in Sabo's - light), NSFW, 18+, MDNI, smut.

Notes: first time writing for Sabo and Ace to get a sense of their flavours before writing them individual fics. Series Link for Dreaming of You here. Shout out to @avogigi for keeping me company and giving me brain rot for Sabo.

Hands grabbing fistfuls of your ass, he held you completely locked against his face while his tongue greedily lapped at your glistening cunt. His head bobbed and weaved, shoulders bullying their way between your legs as you stood above his seated form on the cool floor. With one arm braced against the wall in front of you, the other attempted to push his head further into you. 

“Ah, ah-!” he softly chastised you, withdrawing one of his hands from your ass and swatting your hand away from pawing at him. Laughing against your skin, he multitasked his motions by mouthing at your pussy while withdrawing his hat from his head and letting his hair shake free. Pulling away just enough to gaze cheekily into your eyes, he offered the hat out to you.

“If you wanna grab onto my hair so bad,” he thrust the hat into your hand before slowly inching his smile towards your pussy, “Better keep that warm for me and do it properly.” Before he dove back into greedily consuming your pleasure and coaxing your orgasm from you, his voice grew dark and possessive: his order coming out as a curt bark while his eyes darted between yours.

“Put it on.” 

Your hands hurriedly placed the hat on your own head just as his lips and tongue slipped between each fold and carded from your slit to your clit. Lazily lulling his tongue from his lips, he clawed at your ass with his blunt fingernails to physically grind you against his face. 

Humming at the sensation of your walls fluttering around him, he drew his right forearm up to cage your hips in while his left hand traced down the contours of his abs towards his aching cock. Rocking your hips over his mouth while he pumped his cock had his breath fall from his lips in gruff whimpers. 

He was a needy puppy, desperate to devour your ecstasy while playing with the edge of his own. As your slick messily dripped onto his face and your walls began to contract around his tongue, he chuckled against your body.

“That’s it, baby. Cum in my mouth,” he huskily growled up at you, throwing his head back into your hand, “Ride my face. Pull my hair harder. C’mon now, you can go way harder than that.” His eyes roll back when he feels your fingertips grind against his skull, gripping on tight and rolling your hips against his mouth. Your voice sounds like a sweet melody singing a song only for him. 

That wave of possessiveness twinkles in his eyes as he sees your brow contort and scrunch as you hit that peak and crest over the cliff he’s throwing you from. Humming up at you, his voice vibrates his tongue as he fucks it into your fluttering walls. His fist lazily pumps his cock with his fist while you use him to ride down that high.

“There you go,” he praised you, softly cooing your name up at you while you whimpered from the aftershocks of your high, “Good job. So fuckin' sexy using me like that. Now-.” He hastily pushed you from his face and rose to his feet, his cock achingly hard as he quickly circled his body behind yours. He gave you little time to shake off the sensitivity of your orgasm before you felt his fat tip push its way into your slit down to the hilt. He heard you gasp at the hasty thrust, prompting a greedy smile to inch its way onto his face.

“My turn,” his voice rumbled with his hissed whisper as he withdrew his cock all the way to the tip before puncturing your body with its girth. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, his lips attached to your neck as he bites your muscle to anchor himself to the earth while he hastily chases a path to the heavens. 

Hips slapping harshly in a rapid flurry, your pussy welcomes him with each cruel drag of his cock in your walls. Your prior release is so slick against his cock, he almost wants to cry. His head swirls as he feels himself draw nearer and nearer to his own edge. 

“Fuck, you’re s-so fucking wet,” he muffled against your skin, flicking his tongue out to taste the sheen of sweat he’d been drawing out from you, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.” As his eyes scrunch tightly shut, panting against your body while his hips become more staggered in their vicious clapping, “Where you want me to cum-...? Where can I-?”

Upon opening his eyes, your body was gone. The warmth from your skin, a distant memory as his cock desperately twitched beneath his heavy blankets. Hastily throwing back the sheets, his cockhead bobbed and shook as hot ropes of his release shot out all over his stomach, shaft, balls, and thighs. 

“Nghh, shit-?!” he whimpered, eyes wide as he glared at his cock. He couldn’t help the little bucks of his hips up into the air while he rode through his untouched high. Soft gasps, choked groans, and muffled huffs of breath poured over his lips and shot quietly out into dark bedroom while he rouse fully from his rest. 

Covered in his own mess, his prior expression of bliss fell into a low frown while he came to terms about what just occurred. He just came untouched, while dreaming elicit thoughts about you and him together. 

“Damn it.” 

Ace

Fingertips caressed his scalp while the fire-first exhaled a jaunty laugh. He was appalled he had used your image as his own personal fantasy, his release still coating his skin in a glistening array of spend over his abdomen. Looking down at the sticky release, he let out a soft, audible groan as he attempted not to wake his comrades. 

Quickly looking to the side, he notices a few members of Whitebeard’s crew still breathing heavily in the midst of their slumber. The slow inhale and exhale of their breath put Ace at ease while he articulated a plan to rid himself of his lustful display coating his skin. Reaching for a soiled shirt he neglected to wear for the day, his bashful smile remained drawn up over his features. 

You were in his dreams, occupying his thoughts, and corrupting his slumber again. He was praising whichever of the old gods were listening that his slumber was corrupted beneath the security of his own cabin this time. Waking up with his seed painting his pants in public was not something he looked forward to on the regular. And regular visits within his falsified memory, you enacted with gusto.

Having met only a fistful of times in person, he was floored by how his dreams seemed to get a hold of him and run wild each time he closed his eyes. Seeing your image float beneath the shroud of darkness had him shaking his head and softening his laughter to soft waves of humor. 

He was a man smitten by his younger brother’s crew member. The way your grin shot at him the first time you’d met held him hostage. Attempting to play it off, all he ever did was behave like a gentleman: his politeness and well articulated manners had you appreciate the softness of him all the sooner.

If you’d only known how desperately he needed you. 

He wanted you so badly, his thoughts betrayed him on the regular. He would often wake to see the sticky remains of your spectral slumber-visitations the moment he awoke: your smile haunting him in a way his soul would sing for. He would yearn in silence, adoring you from afar while you kept his baby brother safe. 

Although Luffy was a grown man, your captain no less, Ace still appreciated the way you would swarm to protect him at the most minor inconvenience. It was your loyalty that did him in. How much did you truly love his adoptive brother that you would follow him to whichever foe his stomach would lead him to face. He loved the way you would follow him, loved the way you would laugh jovially, and love-… love-…

He loved you. 

Everything that was you, Ace held locked in his heart. Your smile, your eyes, your heart: all away in the softest corner of his beating organ swarming his chest with heated love. While his cock appreciated how attractive he found you, his heart held you in earnest. He loved you through and through. His deepest fantasies now only solidifying that fact. 

He was deeply, hopelessly, and wholeheartedly in love with you. 

Tossing his shirt aside, Ace cradled his head with his palms behind his neck. Humming with a whimsical smile painted on his features, he shut his eyes and softly whispered your name. 

“I will see you again,” he confessed, forging a covenant within his heart and writing a quest on his soul, “I will open my heart and let you love me, if you’re willing. I want-... I need you to love me.” He uttered, rolling onto his side and cradling his chest with his arms. 

“I need you to love me. Please.” 

Holding his body closer, he gazed at his sleeping den-den-mushi, contemplating whether it was worth the disruption of your own sleep to confess his adoration towards you. He was a Whitebeard, you were a Straw-Hat. He was loyal to Edward Newgate, you were loyal to his younger brother. His infatuation was never meant to be: two pirates allied, but both ships anchored to differing ports. 

Sighing out a heavy breath, he shook his head and clutched his freckled cheeks with the palm and four fingers of his right hand. Contemplative was the expression that homed itself on his face, picturing what a relationship could look like with you on an allied vessel. His thoughts of love would have to remain in his dreams: never wishing to burden you, or pull you away from your ties to where your allegiances found themselves. 

He couldn’t do that to you. 

Not you.

His brother’s crewmate deserved more than that. You deserved more than that. More than him.

Closing his eyes, he found solace in the way you would welcome him into your arms within the call of slumber. He was smitten, enjoying the dance you would perform for him as his entertainer within falsified memory. He loved you wholeheartedly, but would never dream to tear you from the ties you had forged with Luffy as your captain. 

For now, he could only dream of you. 

Sabo

Hastily throwing his duvet off the rest of the way, he turned on his side and anchored his bodyweight against his elbow while he grasped at a cluster of tissues. Scrunching them tight, he drew them down to his body and began swiping at his skin. Several fragments of the white paper remained on his flesh while he attempted to clean up the carnage left behind from his dreams. 

“Sabo, m’close,” he heard your spectral whine keen for him. He growled at the image, continuing to pat his sticky skin free from his release. He clicked his tongue as he came to terms with the fact that he was doing more harm than good with his tissues, hastily standing to his feet and briskly walking to his ensuit bathroom. 

At the revolutionary base, he was blessed enough to have the privacy of his own quarters to bathe within. He doesn’t enjoy bathing at the most of times: his devil-fruit making him feel weak and pathetic as opposed to relaxed and tranquil. 

He was feeling weak and pathetic now, even before his body met with the rapidly filling running water in the large bathtub.

You were a part of Luffy’s crew. A 'Straw-Hat’. He had only met you a handful of times, and you were always sweet with him. Your soft voice, cheeky grin, eyes that seemed to find his and twitch in glee. He loved the way they would sparkle, those domed orbs mirroring his streak of chaos and had him want to take you into his arms and carry you back to the base with him.

Stepping into the water, he sighed out at the warmth: attempting to scorch his thoughts from his mind with the tranquility within the still waves. He drew his hands down to his stomach and swiped at it, removing the glubs of paper and cum from his skin with the heels of each palm. 

“Sabo, please. Please, Sabo. I need you,” he heard your voice echo in his mind and shift throughout his body. His lengthy digits had a mind of their own, grasping his half-hard shaft and beginning to pump at his submerged cock. His eyes scrunched themselves shut as he attempted to stifle the thought of you while his quickly re-stiffening cock fanned the flames.

“Flame emperor, please let me take your cock? Fill me up with it?” his hands quickened their reaction and his eyes flew open. That title, his title, falling from your illusionary lips and growing his desire for you more. Without much warning, Sabo hastily turned in the bath: water sloshing from the sides while he clasped the porcelain edge of the tub. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” he growled in a low tone, his brow furrowing while he chased that image of you clutching the wall, “You want me to fuck you like an animal. Let me guess, breed you?” He could barely get the words out, falling hard into the fantasy he had crafted in his mind of your body. 

His cock twitched violently, each vein throbbing while his shaft pulsed with desire. His breaths came out in choked pants and gruff huffs, quickly giving way to wanton moans that rolled into whines. His imagination ran with him, positions of you quickly changing to see you on your back with your legs pressed up into your chest. His eyes rolled back in his skull as he pictured the soft squeaks you would make while he viciously pounded your pussy with every in-thrust. 

And then he switched again, removing himself completely from the equation. He wanted to watch you squirt. He wanted to have his gloved middle and unity fingers buried to the knuckle while your wrists were tied to your ankles. He wanted to watch you squirm around his hand, trying to escape the umpteenth orgasm he’d been ripping from your body. 

He wanted to have your chin raised by his dragon-claw cane, while your lips were gagged with his other glove. He wanted to feel you squirt and fuck you through your orgasm with his hands; your clit caressed by the pad of his clothed thumb. He wanted to watch as you succumbed to the insanity he was pulling from your body with a keening scream of his name pouring from your lips-. 

“-Fuck! I’m cumming-...! H-hah, sh-shit-!” he rode his hand, the water splashing in heavy waves over the edge while he released his spend into the bath water. He sobbed your name, whimpering as he sucked his lip into his mouth. 

All he could see through his scrunched vision and darkened thoughts was the way you would grip onto him and trust him to claim you completely. To fill you with his cum, to watch as you slipped off that edge and tumbled into his awaiting arms. Rope after rope of his unraveling release spurted into the water as he rode his high. His blonde locks dance while dripping with water from the bath, his pants coming out as cries for you and you alone. 

“Fuck-! Baby, please. I need you,” he whispered as he came down from his high, feeling dirtier  now than when he first stepped into the warmth of the bath water. His physical recoil from his release had him forlorn, his brow furrowing further as he rode through the afterwaves of his bliss. 

“Shit, I do need you,” he confessed to himself. He hastily shook off his high and fled from the soiled waters: releasing the plug and watching it swirl through the drain. Taking a deep inhale through his nose, he exhaled his promise through his lips without breathing the words to light. 

He will see you again.

He will confess his desires for you.

He will make you his. 

Luffy

Immediately jolting from his bed, his brows furrowed low as he slotted his legs into each leg-hole of his denim pants. Hoisting it up over his deflating cock, he narrowed his vision by deeply scowling.

Why were you in his thoughts? Why did you ask him to defile you like that? Why did you want him to hold you close and fuck you so viciously? 

And why did he want to? 

Tugging up his waistband, he shrugged on his red vest and began to briskly walk to where he knew you were aboard his ship. Designating you as his watch shift for tonight had you positioned within the crows nest and looking out over the horizon while the rest of the crew slumbered. Reaching the woven footfalls of the rope-ladder had Luffy immediately scurry up to confront you. 

As soon as he hoisted his way up over the last barricade, his deep frown softened into a warm smile. Gently scrunching his nose, he hooked his heel into the last loop and pulled himself over the railing to slip quietly beside you.

Nestled warmly beneath your blankets, you stared at the rippling ocean and stood alert at each uncharted wave rippling in an unsoundly manner. Holding your gaze firm on the moon shining on the waves had you jolt upright the moment your captain unceremoniously plopped himself down beside you. 

“Captain-!” you squealed in surprise, gently moving to a seated-fighting position by thrusting your hands up to your chest before the familiarity of your boss removed thoughts of violence from your mind. Your shock turned into glee at his presence by your side, a subtle shift that didn’t escape your captain’s notice.

“Didn’t mean to shock you,” he chuckled with a soft wink, moving his body closer to yours with a gentle pull. Softening his cheery smile, his eyes dragged over your face and marveled at the way you looked within the night air. “Hi.” 

“Hi back, Captain,” you offered him with a slight giggle in your tone, “What brings you out tonight? Shouldn’t you be sleeping or raiding Sanji’s pantry?” He couldn’t help but laugh along with your playfulness, gently nudging his shoulder with your own before resting his cheek on your covered flesh.

“I actually came out to see you,” he admitted without remorse, defeat, or malicious intent, “I had a dream about you and wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

You stiffened beneath the weight of his confession before shifting to make yourself comfortable with his head tucked safely within your shoulder. Glancing out from the corner of your eye, you notice the way Luffy’s eyes fluttered closed while he tucked himself into your embrace. He seemed out of sorts: his actions feeling far more clingy and desperate than his usual demeanor. 

“Nightmares, Cap?” you asked him, gently opening the flap of the duvet and inviting him within your solace, “Some rough dreams on quiet waters?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” he offers, eagerly accepting your embrace by hooking his shoulders beneath your arms, “I was just thinkin’ about you, s’all. Like I said: wanted to make sure you were okay.” His arms eagerly found themselves coiling around your waist, tugging you into himself and nestling closer. 

Gently chuckling at his motions, you shrouded his shoulders beneath the cloak of your heavy blankets, nestling him into your skin and holding you within your solidified embrace. Tucking his head beneath your cheek, you softly whispered against his temple.

“You just rest, Cap,” you spoke calmly and lovingly against his skin, cooing down at his nestled form within your arms, “I’ll be right here when you wake up, alright? Just sleep.” He nuzzled against your warmth, holding himself against you and scrunching his eyes tightly shut,

His lips moved, his words muffled and incoherent as his eyes fell half-lidded. His arms felt possessive around you, holding you firmly as if you would dissipate into smoke at the earliest convenience. You could’ve sworn his lips puckered and pressed against your skin, caressing you with his mouth in a sweet kiss as he drifted off into slumber. The softest whisper tumbling over his lips and going unmissed by your ears as you peered out to the open ocean.

“I’ll see you in my dreams,” he confessed lazily, his heart on his sleeve as he slowly slipped within the depths of calming slumber. His breathing tapered out as he focussed on the easy beat of your heart, prompting his own to beat within the same tempo. 

As his breath grew heavy and laboured, you readjusted him to lie in a more comfortable position on his lap, slowly caressing the crown of his head by carding your fingers through his curled locks.

“Rest well, my captain,” you sighed down onto him, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat at the possessive undertones your profession indicated. He was your captain, a captain you knew as yours and your only one. You would lay down your life for the opportunity to do him proud: winning battles, foraging for food, and hunting beasts for a moment of his attention. He was your captain, and you were his crew. 

But the lingering emotions flooding your hearts with the warmth of infatuation had you both believe you could be more than just that. For now, contentment found you. Luffy’s breathing expanded out as his peace prompted you to guard him as you found your own. The night watch was uneventful: the giddiness of the morning to follow your captain’s sleep buzzed your senses and held you awake overnight. 

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[scented-morker]

୨୧ Whoops 𓂃 ♥︎

idol!riki x idol!reader, fem!reader, secret relationship, riki is a little too used to taking care of you… 950 words ft. Mark Lee cameo 🫶

Award show season in the kpop industry was one of the most fun parts of your job.

You spent hours preparing stages and dance breaks with your group, trying on beautiful dress after beautiful dress, and of course texting your boyfriend Riki for spoilers on his stages.

You: Pleaseeeeee 🙏 I’ll send you a picture of my red carpet dress if you tell me

Riki: you should probably do that anyway 🤭 Jungwon said last show I stared too much but I was just so shocked, you looked so pretty

You: YOU WERE SHOCKED??? DO I NOT NORMALLY LOOK PRETTY???

Riki: Ok crazy I DID NOT SAY THAT

You: blocked.

You were joking around, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had noticed him staring when you walked past his group and hadn’t been able to stop your blush even after his leader had smacked him to knock it off.

Your own leader had made up an excuse to yank you back to the makeup artist in an attempt to offset your red face.

Fans absolutely caught the whole thing on camera, and you two were viral for a week.

That was the non fun part of award season— trying to pretend you weren’t completely smitten with the beautiful boy on stage.

Everytime Riki performed you wanted to jump out of your seat and scream your head off.

You were dating the world’s most talented boy and couldn’t even show it… especially since your company had made you go through extra media training to avoid it happening again.

As much as you hated keeping it a secret, you hated to see your boyfriend getting hate even more, so you focused on controlling yourself around the cameras.

When the camera panned to your group during the Enhypen performance on New Years Eve, you calmly smiled and nodded your head to the beat of XO. Your leader gave you a discreet high five as soon as the screen refocused on the boys, and you glowed with pride.

Riki had done well for the most part as well, managing to look like he really liked the song you were performing and not like he was losing his mind over your leather outfit.

Everything was going perfectly smooth until the very end of the show.

You were crammed onto the stage with what seemed like every single idol that has ever debuted.

You bow as you once again bump into one of your seniors, glad when they give you a quick hug and wave off your apology.

It’s almost midnight, and you look around the stage in an attempt to find the rest of your group who you haven’t seen in at least five minutes.

You laugh to yourself when you spot your boyfriend immediately, his head peeking over the rest of the crowd due to his sheer height.

He spots you and raises an eyebrow at you in question, but you don’t even attempt to explain your panicked look, knowing the interaction would get caught and analyzed hundreds of times.

Instead you start walking towards his general direction, making sure to look just enough to the side that people won’t think you’re approaching him.

You hope your group is somewhere near his, thinking your age and popularity were similar enough for the directors to place you beside each other.

There’s music playing over the speakers as you continue looking around for someone you recognize. Idols start dancing around in excitement, and you’re once again jostled as you make your way through the crowd.

A particularly excited Mark Lee accidentally backs up into you, bumping you what feels like halfway across the stage, and you’re fully expecting to hit the ground from the impact.

You internally groan at the videos that are surely going to be everywhere in a few hours, and you try to make sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone when you fall.

But instead of hitting the ground how you were expecting, you find yourself against a familiar body with an arm around your waist.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling, and you don’t even need to turn around to know Riki is behind you.

You quickly untangle yourself from him, turning and bowing deeply to him.

“Thank you for catching me.”

He mirrors your body language, lifting his head to peer into your eyes, his own soft and full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, standing back up and knowing you’re screwed.

A quick glance behind him shows Jungwon with wide eyes and Heeseung losing his mind laughing at the two of you being horrible relationship hiders.

You bow to them as well, although you make a mental note to yell at Heeseung the next time you see him.

Mark Lee chooses that moment to come up to you with a red face and sheepish smile as he apologizes profusely and Haechan laughs behind him.

You accept it quickly, wanting to get out of the area and horrible situation as soon as possible.

You’re grateful when your leader finally approaches you, looking between you, Mark, and Riki with terrified eyes.

“I’ll explain later.” You whisper as she grabs your arm and the two of you quickly exit towards the other part of the stage.

When you wake up the next day it’s to multiple texts from your manager, two calls from your boyfriend, and a Dispatch article featuring the photo of Riki holding you against him in the middle of the stage.

Whoops.

[starmocha]

meet me at midnight [Sylus/Reader ★ 950 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Deeper and deeper, you fall into this haze of arousal with him. A/N: Quick little something something because this has been a weird last couple of days, but mostly because this showcase broke me 👉 👈 Merry eve of Nightly Rendezvous banner. ✨✨✨ May all of your horny men come home in 10 pulls 💖💖💖 ✨✨✨ @starlightzoey I feel like you would enjoy this after our little convo 🥹 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia 【 request to be added 】

“Stay focused, kitten.”

His hand went to cover your eyes.

Complete darkness filled your vision.

A quick, fleeting kiss landed on your lips, his husky voice following:

“Don’t look.”

Shivers went down your spine when he had said those two little words, the sudden assaulting kisses kept you in the moment focused on him. All of your other senses heightened as you remained sightless. He had nudged your legs apart, settling in between you, his heavy weight keeping you trapped beneath him. Your panties were slipped off earlier and so casually shoved into his pants pocket, so now you could feel yourself dripping and aching for him. Your breath quickened in anticipation, feeling months of the growing tension between the two of you had finally culminated into this very moment. You felt the heat of his body on yours, his barely-restrained pants were all you could hear aside from the pounding of your heart, and suddenly—

You cried out, body arching into him when you felt it. It was only the tip, but you could feel how big he was, your body tensing, unprepared for just how much of him was going to fill you. Was this what he had meant? He knew the size of him would intimidate you, so he made you close your eyes, but now you were starting to feel a little panic creeping in, your thoughts racing as more and more of him entered so painfully slow, stretching you in a way you had never felt before.

Your breathing grew shakier and more panicked, thoughts racing wildly, thinking there was no way he was going to fit inside you all the way, but still your wetness seemed to pull more of him in, the stretch so agonizingly delicious.

His other hand instantly went to yours. His heavy breathing signaled his own descent into lust and pleasure, any previous control he had slipping the more he drank in the sight of you being taken by him. You squirmed against him, your mind caught somewhere between this was too much but also not enough.

“…t….too…much…Sy…Sylu—"

He shushed you gently, his deep kisses pressed into your skin, on your lips, to your temple, reassurances to help ease your sudden trepidations. They helped a little, but not knowing how much of him was still left and only being able to feel the thickness of him stretching you still made you anxious.

“You can take me,” he whispered against your ear. He hissed in pleasure as you clenched around him, his deep voice trembling slightly as he continued to restrain himself for your sake. “Do-doing so well, sweetie.” He mumbled lazily into your shoulder, “My good girl, such a good girl, so wet for me...you’re going to take all of my cock, right? Every last inch…let me fill you completely…”

You bit down on your lip, body tensing, but oh, the way his irresistible voice was so devilishly deep and smooth, whispering such sinfully lascivious words into your ear was making you ascend to a different plane.

“Fuck,” he husked, his breathing still heavy, “So tight, but taking me so well…”

You gasped, your hand squeezing his immediately at the sudden fullness of him filling you so wonderfully.

“Good girl, good girl,” he purred. He removed his hand from over your eyes, watching with a pleased expression at seeing your fully flushed rosy cheeks, the slight tears brimming in the corners of your glazed eyes. He hushed you again with more kisses as you adjusted to the feeling of him buried inside you.

Soon, you felt him pulled out—slow, patient, precise—and wordlessly he thrusted back in, eliciting your startled cries of pleasure. He gauged your reaction, experimenting with the speed and strength of his thrusts until he found a steady rhythm that was pleasurable for the both of you.

The earlier haze of pleasure returned, the room heating up with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, your only dizzying thoughts were on each other in this moment. His hands found their way to your thighs, his grip on your flesh tighter as he spread you just a bit more. You succumbed to your needs, your legs wrapping around his waist as he continued to rock into you steadily harder and faster. You whimpered and gasped, moaning in time with every lewd sound of his thrusts, the slick movements of him robbing you of all other thoughts except the feeling of your approaching climax.

“Sylus…more…m-more…!”

“Greedy little kitten,” he chuckled, nipping your earlobe playfully. He nuzzled his cheek into the crook of your neck, humming gently in approval at your quickened, helpless little mewls of pleasure and the feel of your fingers slipping through his hair. “That’s alright,” he continued, his thrusts getting harder, reaching so deeply inside you that you were gasping and arching into him again. He kissed your cheek, laughing softly when your own lips found his neck. He continued, his voice growing hoarse with arousal, “I want you to be greedy, especially when it’s for me…”

He kissed your lips, swallowing your cries. Every action he took grew a little more desperate, his control finally slipping as he wanted to yield to you completely, to satisfy you the way he knew you deserved, to worship you in a way that only he could.

“I will give you everything you desire, my beloved,” he said, murmuring against your lips, his voice so breathy and low, “All of me.”

Forever yours.

Dawn was still so far away, and so for now, you both surrendered to your desires and to each other, letting yourself fall deeper and deeper into this addicting haze of arousal, love, and devotion.