#all i got right now is that they had a drunken one night stand after the vault that kind of kickstarted their pining for each other

[withheartsaligned]

i just want you as you are

[songmingisthighs]

My, My, Mine

group : ateez

pairing : jealous, dom!san × reader

genre : smut, pwp, requested

wc : 3.6 k

warning : mdni, possessive!san, mentions of patriarchal upbringing, san trying to exert his dominance in the relationship, san calling mc basically slutty or a hoe but not in those words, drunken sex (so maybe kinda dubcon-ish ??? is it ??), explicit sex (bondage, denied orgasm, sadism ?? idk man, san being a meanie, mc being whiny despite g0rl power, slight dacryphilia ?? big man likes whiny crybabies, multiple orgasm, degradation, filming while having sex (you've been warned), creampie, and more idk i can't list all of them but if you think i should list more as like warning, please lmk !)

a/n : idt i've written any san smut (other than the debauchery that was ignominy) so I'm excited for this request ! i had this in my wip for quite a while and I'm FINALLY finishing it !!!

a/a/n : sorry this took a while, I had to get in the right mood for this lmaooooo hope you enjoy it !

a/a/a/n : ALSO HAPPY SANI DAY !!!

buy me coffee ?

It hadn't been that long since you and San started dating and it was quite the adjustment.

On one hand, you loved him dearly, he and all of his adorable quirks. But San, as he was raised quite conservatively by a strong, patriarchal figure, had managed to show some of the traits. Sure, you could get used to having things paid for you despite it making you feel like a burden, but having to argue with San in public when he insisted that he should be the one carrying all of your things or even waiting for you at your office's lobby when he's available so he'd be able to accompany you home was not something you like. So you both adjusted. Or tried to.

You didn't realize the extent of his views until you went to a girls' night.

During the whole time, San kept texting you about your whereabouts, reminding you not to drink too much. You'd answer once or twice but for every answer you gave, he sent five more texts and it was getting rather annoying. You realized he meant well but the way he was doing it was making it seem like he thought you were an incapable idiot who was going to need him, your knight in shining armour, to rescue you from the bad bad men of this world. You had gone through life just fine without him before and you were not some dumbass.

The realization that the alcohol in your system was stirring your emotions should have been enough to get you to sober up especially knowing that San was staying over to take care of you (a compromise you begrudgingly accepted). But your friends were egging you on and you knew that you didn't want to face San without some liquid courage. It was high time you took him down a peg. Or peg him down. Whichever comes first.

"Honey, I'm home," you slurred, giggling when you got through your front door and started taking off your shoes.

There were shuffles and soon San's voice rang through your ears. "Baby! I missed you! Where-" the words died in San's mouth when he saw the state you were in, or more specifically, the clothes you were wearing. "What the hell?" he asked, standing at a distance looking at you with disbelief in his eyes that you couldn't notice because you were too intoxicated to be aware of your surroundings. "Sannie," You giggled, stumbling to your boyfriend after you shrugged off your coat to the floor to ask for a hug. San still accepted your hug but he was oddly quiet, his eyes hard, and his fists were balled around your waist.

"I'm home now, Sannie!" you were still giggling as you started peppering San's face with kisses. It was then that San smelled the heavy alcohol in your breath which made him cringe and push you back slightly, "What in God's name have you been doing?" Then his eyes travelled down to your clothes, "And what is with this outfit?"

You immediately recognized the tone that he was using on you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, "I told you I was going to a girls' night at the club and obviously this outfit is amazing because the bartender gave me 2 free shots!" you excitedly said. San reeled back and crossed his arms on his chest, "You mean to tell me you flirted for free drinks?" it took you a moment to answer but you shook your head, "Didn't have to flirt, he saw me in this outfit and he just showed his appreciation. It was no big deal," you shrugged and you tried pushing past him but he easily stopped you by blocking your path. "(y/n), I have to tell you I'm not comfortable with this. It kind of seems like you were selling your dignity so cheaply. As your boyfriend-" "Whoah, go back to you accusing me of being a hoe," you cut him off. San's eyebrows furrowed and he immediately defended himself, "I didn't call you a hoe, I'm just stating that I am not okay with my girlfriend wearing something so short, skimpy, and revealing just so she wouldn't have to pay for her drinks!" he stated.

Truthfully, San didn't have much problem with how you dress. He actually thought that you looked absolutely hot. Hell, he bought you the damn dress when he thought that you were going to wear it when you go out with him. He trusted you completely but what he couldn't trust were the rest 99% of the population who might do something bad to you when you're intoxicated in clothes that for lack of a better word, provided a lot of access. Something bad like what he wanted to do to you when he first saw that dress which was to rip your panties in two, fuck you in the dressing room, stuff you full of cum, and make you keep them safe until you both went home so he can eat the cum out of you.

Had you been sober, you could've agreed with the part about your dress being short, skimpy, and revealing because you had spent the better part of the night trying to not bend down and making sure that when you were dancing, you were shielded by your girlfriends. But the implication still didn't sit right with you and the fact that San was using the boyfriend card ticked you off.

"You're my boyfriend San, not my owner or my master. I'm still my own person and had I flashed a tit or two to get free shit, I should be able to! I get to decide what I get and what I don't get," you huffed and tried pushing past him.

Your steps halted when San shot his hand out and placed it on your chest, his fingers rigid on your collarbones and when you looked into his eyes, there was a glint of darkness and lust that made you shudder.

"Is that how it is, little Miss Independent? You really think you're in charge of whatever you get, big girl?" he smirked, voice lowering down and it was then did you realize, even through your drunken haze, that you were fucked. Or going to be. Hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All hopes of your friend borrowing your dress were shattered and you had to break the news to her because right now, that dress was being used to tie your hands together behind your back while San had you on top of him, connecting his face with your pussy as he did his best to draw your third orgasm.

"Aww look at you," San chuckled darkly against your pussy, "Big girl can't handle two orgasms in a row?" The spank he delivered on your ass made your knees slip and allowed your whole weight to fall on San who happily accepted being suffocated by your sweet cunt. "S-San," you whimpered, trying to relieve the overstimulation by lifting your hips only to receive a guttural growl from below as his strong arms snaked around your thighs to ensure that you wouldn't be able to escape him. "San, please stop, it's too much" you whimpered while still trying to get out of his grip. Your senses had returned after the first orgasm when San managed to flush the alcohol out of you somehow only for it to be thrown back into a haze when he was working on your second.

Tired of your whining, San flipped you both over and allowed you a moment to breathe. Although it was hard what with the way your cunt was still throbbing and your heart still beating wildly in your chest. Despite his annoyance, San found your sprawled figure to be very delectable what with your flushed and warm skin, rising chest, and pussy glistening with sweat, spit, and arousal, making it seem like it was inviting him in again.

San grabbed your legs and pried them open, allowing him to glare at your pulsing entrance with eyes clouded in desire. "I thought big, independent girls wouldn't have to whine and beg like needy little bitches? Where's the confidence you used to get free drinks from cheap losers?" you somehow managed to lift your head to look at San who had his eyes now locked on yours as he leaned down close to your aching core, "Where's the confidence you used to allow people to think you're not spoken for?" Your back was arched and your jaw unhinged when San licked a fat, long stripe from your peritoneum up to your clit at an agonizingly slow speed. It was as if he wanted you to feel every single bit of movement he made that effectively drove your mind into overdrive. You felt your legs start to shake when he plunged three fingers into your leaking hole after spitting on your cunt, hitting your sensitive clit that he used as a bullseye.

The smug look on his face as he watch you writhe from overstimulation shouldn't turn you on so much but the way you physically reacted betrayed you completely as it chased for more of San, whatever he was willing to give you.

"You're a jerk," you whimpered through teary eyes. Though your voice was getting hoarse from the night out which was followed by him overstimulating you to high heavens, San could hear you loud and clear. "I thought you like getting attention?" San scoffed, pausing to him slapping you harshly on your cunt which caused your body to jolt at the impact, "That's why you were dressed like that, right? I'm just being a supportive boyfriend and helping you practice." The insinuation pissed you off and despite your struggling, you tried to get yourself up and away from him (and failing rather miserably), "I dressed like that for myself you possessive jerk," "Oh, so the lack of panties was what, for health?" When you couldn't answer him, he knew he got you dead on and being proud of himself, he smirked and pulled himself off of you and the bed. The sudden void he left caused you to almost whine out loud, brain forgetting that you were somewhat mad at him.

San came back to the bed completely naked and holding your phone. Immediately, he positioned you flat on your back and his thick thighs pushed onto your own firmly so you were basically folded. Your breath hitched when you felt his cock resting against your sensitive cunt a bit too casually. The skin-on-skin contact allowed you to feel how hot it felt and the way it pleasured you when it rubbed against you every time San made even the slightest movement. "You can say whatever you want and I'll do whatever I want. Seems fair, doesn't it?" Your heart beat quicker and harder in your chest simply from the way he hinted at his plan. "What are you going to do?" You asked, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. San only raised a cocky eyebrow, not even bothering to answer you properly and just simply tapping away on your phone. You had even considered that he might have contacted one of your friends or worse, call them before he fucked you.

But San didn't give you enough time to overthink because, in a moment's time, San flipped your phone sideways, pressed a button, and started pushing inside you. Your eyes watered again from the stretch and even though you were well-lubricated thanks to San's torture on your cunt earlier and also his spit, his size didn't make things easier for you. His cock glided smoothly but your muscles tensed up from the sudden intrusion, slowing his pace a bit and restricting him from being too rough. "Look at Miss Independence breaking down over her boyfriend's cock like a common whore," he chuckled darkly, relishing in the way you whimpered his name and your body arching in pleasure at the feeling of him, "Come on baby, show the camera how you're in charge of everything you get or don't get," he mocked. You were sure that your tears were not just from being overstimulated but also from the humiliation. You were a proud woman who could confidently say that you have never let a man use you even if he tried. But there you were on your back, hands tied, and mind fuzzy, hyper-aware of the way your body just submitted to San's every whim, betraying your better judgment that was still screaming for you to push him off and make him get a taste of his own medicine. But of course, your body was as stubborn as your mind as it refused to go against San.

"San, put away the camera," you whined, turning away from the camera only to have San grab your cheeks in one free hand and force you to look back at him. "Why should I? If you want me to stop, then do it yourself. Take the camera away from me," he smirked as he adjusted his knees so he could start rolling his hips into yours, creating a steady rhythm.

From the screen, he could see the way you glared at him as his words, knowing full well that although he had challenged you to do something you could absolutely not do anything due to the fact that your hands were bound behind your back. Had it been any other circumstance, San would tell you how turned on he was with you at that moment. The way tears made your eyes seem like they were glittering, the way your cheeks were puffed and flushed from frustration, and the way your body was opened up for him to use. The fire between you two was one of the things that San loved.

"Come on, (y/n), show the camera what you can do," he egged, thrusting harshly into you which elicited a high-pitched squeal from your lips. "Fuck you," you whimpered but you did as he told as you began fucking yourself back and instead of matching his pace, you fucked yourself on his cock quicker, convincing yourself that it was, in a way, you taking charge over him. Though, the satisfied look on San's face, paired with the way he licked his bottom lip as he pointed the camera to where you two were connected, proved you otherwise. "I can get fucked if I want to, I control what I get," you stated albeit slightly unconvincingly as your quivering bottom lip served as a dead giveaway. "Of course you do," San cooed mockingly before his free hand dropped to between your legs to spread your pussy lips apart, allowing the camera to capture the way your cunt was swallowing him so greedily.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he saw your cunt pulsing and his head was running wild with filthy ideas. "Baby, I wanna breed you so bad so people would know who you belong to," Your breath hitched when his handsome face contorted into a chesire-like grin and your so-called control was stolen as quickly as you got it. "You're not gonna do shit to me San, I mean it," at this point, your defiance was more like a facade because you wanted what he was offering but your pride wanted to twist it around. San moved his hips quickly, greedily taking all of the pleasure he could get out of you. "Fuck, my big girl is gonna get creamed," he chuckled darkly, fucking you as he tried to keep the camera still to capture everything, particularly the way your cunt leaked so much arousal that his own crotch was wet with the transferred slick.

Your body was being used so well that your limbs (the free ones at least, which were your legs) were flailing about slightly. "Stupid little baby wants to have control when she can't even control her legs, she's fucked so stupid," he teased as you whined in protest, wanting to prove him wrong. So despite the weakness in your legs from the ministrations, you shifted your body around so that you were on your side and your legs were crossed over the other. The new position trapped San's cock inside you and the sensation of his cock being trapped halted his movements mid-way and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as a guttural groan echoed in your ears. You took his response as a mini triumph. "Fuck, you got tighter," he shuddered, body shaking as he took a shaky breath, "Were you trying to snap my dick off?" You feigned innocence as you began rocking your hips again, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe if I snap your dick off it'll become mine," you smirked. "You conniving slut."

No longer caring about the camera, San tossed your phone to the side and started pounding into you in a pace that was animalistic. "F-fuck- Aah! San!" you squealed when he planted his left foot firmly on the bed and pounded harder as if he was trying to destroy your insides.

"Say you won't go out dressed like that again," he demanded, face planted on your chest as his abuse of your cunt continued. He began nipping, kissing, biting, and licking all over the skin of your breast and it almost succeeded in clouding your mind into absolute submission due to pleasure. But you managed to firmly shook your head, "I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, I'll do whatever I want!" you answered between harsh pants and heavy breathing.

You heard San click his tongue before he ripped himself off of you in a flash, leaving you on the edge of orgasm and cold. "What the fuck!?" you whined, instinctively trying to get up to chase after San but your bound hands prevented you from moving easily.

San tilted his head and mockingly pouted, "If you can do whatever you want then so can I, baby." Your eyes zeroed in on his hand that jacked his hard, leaking cock and you knew well enough that it wouldn't take him much to cum at that point. Despite his treatment towards you, you wanted his cum, you wanted his cum inside you. "San, you get back here and fuck me!" you scream-whined, desperate to find release.

Hearing your demand, San went back onto the bed and got closer to you. For a moment, you thought San was going back to fucking you but he simply slapped his cock on your face, taunting you. "You want me to fuck you now? I thought you were in charge of yourself," he smirked, rubbing the tip of his cock on your skin, leaving a trail of precum mixed with what was left of your arousal. You held yourself back from using your mouth to chase his cock but your sexual frustration was at its peak and it was at that moment that your resolve broke and you whined. "Sannie, please fuck me, make me cum and then breed me so other guys won't even get close to me, please, please."

That seemed to satisfy San because his next move was to finally release your hands from the hold of the makeshift handcuffs and flip you over so you were on top of him. The pooling slick allowed him to slip inside you rather easily and once he was buried inside, you let out a gasp. "Ride me," San demanded, eyes fixated on you and hands on your hips firmly. San's words barely concluded before you started fucking yourself on his cock, letting out all the frustration both sexual and emotional from the whole bullshit. You anchored yourself on San's broad chest and used him to chase your own release.

"Yeah baby, do it, fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the big girl that you are," San goaded, smirking and panting from the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock so tightly. "T-told you I'm i-in charge," you panted, throwing your head back as the pleasure ran through your body like electric shocks, making you tingly all over. "Sure you are, baby," San groaned when he felt his release coming.

With one swift swivel of your hips, your body tensed, legs clamped and your orgasm broke like a wave crashing. "Fuck!" you squealed, a couple of tears fell down your face as your body fell backwards without detaching your core from San. Seeing you in your own state of ecstasy, San sat up and shuffled around so he could have his chance chasing his high with you. You were in such a state of blissful release and satisfaction that when San started to overstimulate you once again with his cock, all you could do was groan and turn, trying to get away from him half-heartedly. "I'm cumming inside you, okay? I'm gonna paint you with my seed," San panted into your ear as his lips nipped at the skin, causing the area to tingle and you to whimper as you nodded weakly.

It didn't take long for San to cum inside you, fulfilling his previous promise. He let out a low, breathy moan that got your cunt clenching as he rode his release, making sure that his cum was not wasted and was kept inside you.

Neither of you spoke as you tried catching your breaths, still trying to cool down from the rigorous activity and for you specifically, your mind too far gone to recover so quickly. San momentarily peeked at the edge of the bed, particularly at your ruined dress and couldn't help but smirk, thinking that at least he had one problem done.

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[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[serpentandlily]

Last Solstice - Azriel x Reader, Eris x Reader

Last Solstice - Azriel x Reader, Eris x Reader

Summary: Last Solstice you had been ready to give Azriel your heart, only to stumble upon him and Elain in a near kiss. This Solstice, you’re ready to give your heart to someone else, someone special—your mate, Eris Vanserra. 

Warnings: some angst, happy ending

A/n: Based on THIS request !! This was so fun to write !! Hope you guys enjoy this Christmas present 🎄☃️

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You had first met Feyre at her art studio, after attending a few lessons. The two of you had been quick friends and it wasn’t long before she started inviting you to her family get togethers. 

Which is where you met Azriel, the Shadowsinger. One drunken night at Rita’s had ended with the two of you tumbling into bed together. What started as a one time drunken decision soon led to another night in the shadowsinger’s bed, sober this time. 

When you and Azriel had started sleeping together, he had made you promise him to keep it between the two of you. You didn’t question it at first. Azriel was a private person; he’d never been forthcoming about his lovers in the past, according to Feyre. You figured eventually, if things lasted, he would want to tell his family, your now friends. You’d want to tell them too.  

But then a few months went by.

A year.

As more time passed, you began to feel deeply for Azriel and wanted to take your relationship to the next step. To be able to loudly proclaim your love to him. To go on dates in public. To finally tell your family. But every time you asked him about it, he always said the same thing. He wasn’t ready, didn’t want the attention that would come with it. So you pushed your own feelings down and tried to pretend you were still okay with the arrangement you two had. 

A secret love, only ever together once night fell. 

It didn’t help that Elain Archeron seemed to be smitten with him, seemed to follow him around like a little puppy. You didn’t miss the looks she sent his way, didn’t miss the way she’d brush up against him at every chance she got. But you couldn’t say anything, not when Azriel wanted to keep things so private. So you sucked it all up for him, no matter how much it bothered you. 

But when Solstice came around, you decided you’d finally confess your feelings for Azriel, would tell him that you loved him and wanted to be with him in all the ways that mattered. You were tired of watching Elain lust after him, tired of not being able to tell your family what was going on. 

The entire night, you were buzzing with nerves. 

You downed one too many glasses of wine, trying to relax. A part of you was worried about what Azriel would say. Did he love you too? Did he also want to take the next step? Was he finally ready? 

You wished you could answer those questions with certainty but there was an ache in your stomach that kept screaming that something was…wrong. 

You tried to convince yourself that you were just being paranoid when you noticed Azriel staring at Elain with longing and desire. Tried to convince yourself that he stayed isolated by the doorway because he hated Lucien and not because he couldn’t stand to be in a room with Elain while Lucien was here.

After all, he was in your bed most nights. Surely if he wanted Elain, he wouldn’t be stringing you along. Azriel wasn’t like that. He was a good male, a respectable male…right?

Later that night, you paced in the guest room you were staying in as you waited for Azriel. He was taking longer than normal and that had you even more on edge. You bit your lip, running a hand through your hair. Everyone else had retired for the night already and usually he would’ve snuck into your room by now. 

You couldn’t sit still, couldn’t take the anticipation so you left the room, heading towards the kitchen for a glass of water to try and deal with your nerves and the alcohol still swirling in your system. You froze at the top of the stairs, blood draining from your face. 

There was Azriel.

And Elain.

Inches from each other as Azriel draped a necklace around her neck. 

She pivoted in his grip, twisting to face him. You saw it then. The look of affection and longing clear as day on Azriel’s face as he gazed down at her. A look he had never given you. Your heart snapped into pieces in your chest, nausea rising in your stomach. A hand flew to your mouth to quiet any noise you might make.

You took a step back.

Another.

And collided with a hard chest. You whirled around, trying to blink away the tears still forming in your eyes, to see Rhys standing there. He stared down at you, his expression melting into one of concern as he noticed your upset face.

“Y/n?” he murmured. “Are you okay?”

“F-fine,” you choked out. “I’m fine.”

And then you brushed past him and nearly ran to your room, quietly shutting the door behind you before taking in quick breaths. Elain and Azriel were just friends, you tried to convince yourself even though your heart and mind were screaming otherwise.

You heard Rhys stop on the landing on the stairs just as you had. A second went by and you heard his retreating footsteps to his office. 

You cracked open your door a bit, against your better judgment, only to see Elain rush by, distraught. Your eyes widened and you waited a breath to see if Azriel was following after her, but no one else came by. 

You wiped the tears on your cheeks and quietly stepped in the hallway.

Every instinct was screaming at you to go to Rhys’s office, as if something inside of you knew what you’d find. The pressure in your head was so strong, your stomach turning over itself again and again, and you knew you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling.

You crept along the wall, silently, just as Azriel had taught you, until you heard voices. You paused in your tracks, listening in. 

“...about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” Rhys snarled. “Including her mate.” 

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

That was Azriel’s voice. You covered your mouth with a hand, every nerve in your body lit up. You felt stuck in a nightmare, a terrible dream. 

“What of Y/n, Az?”

Your heart froze at the mention of you. 

“What about her?”

The nonchalance in Azriel’s voice caused a new wave of nausea. 

“Don’t play stupid,” Rhys snapped. “I’ve seen the two of you sneaking off together.” 

Silence for a moment. “It’s just sex.”

You weren’t sure your heart could break more, but it had and it did. Ripped and smashed and crumbled into dust. Just sex? Just sex? It had never been just sex to you! It certainly never seemed that way. 

“Does Y/n know that?”

“What are you trying to say?” Azriel growled. “We’re just friends. I don’t care about Y/n…not like that. Not the way I care about Elain.”

You backed away, unable to listen to anymore of it. You felt drunk as you stumbled back to your room, your vision blurry with the tears in your eyes. It felt like the whole world was collapsing, like you had just found out everything in your life had been a lie. In a way, you had. 

Azriel had never once made it seem like this was some friends with benefits situation. Not once had he ever told you he only saw you as a body to use for pleasure and nothing more, nothing deeper. 

You had fallen for him. You thought he had fallen for you.

Gods, you were so stupid. Of course, he wanted Elain. Soft, sweet Elain. His opposite, a proper lady in waiting. You had let yourself be blinded by your feelings for him and now you were paying the price. You stumbled into your room and fell on your bed, erupting into quiet sobs.

Everything made sense now. Keeping it a secret so Elain would never know, so you wouldn’t ruin his chance with her. But why had he pretended to like you? Why would he do that to you? 

He made you feel special but now you realized you had just been a shoulder to cry on and a distraction for what his heart really wanted. 

You had been so ready to give Azriel your heart…you already had. But he didn’t want it. He didn’t want you. 

Azriel never came that night.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it

With a note saying "I love you", I meant it

Now I know what a fool I've been

But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You wished you could say that is where the story ended. But evidently, you were a fool. Because you let him back into your bed a few days later—didn’t speak a word of your feelings for him or what you had heard. 

You wished you had more dignity, wished you could tell him to get lost. But you loved him. 

Two more months went by before you finally pulled yourself together, tried to muster up the will to leave. You deserved better. You deserved someone who loved you and wanted you. You were tired of being second place to some other girl, tired of being a consolation prize. 

You were worth more than that. 

You reached out to a childhood friend who had moved back to Autumn, asking to move in with her for some time as you got your life together. The next day, your apartment was emptied and you were gone.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

But the very next day, you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

“Which ones would you say are your favorite?”

You jumped slightly, clutching a hand to your chest. You looked towards where the deep voice had come from and nearly stumbled back. Eris Vanserra was standing beside you, hands clasped behind his back, a half smirk on his handsome face. 

He was dressed in a fine deep green coat and a white tunic, the top buttons undone to showcase the gold jewelry dangling from his neck. His red hair was tousled, likely from a recent horseback ride and his amber eyes were gleaming with a small flame.

“H-high Lord,” you gasped, starting to courtesy but he shook his head before nodding towards the flower cart you were working at. 

“Which flowers are your favorite?” He asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice at how flustered he had made you. 

You blushed a light pink, turning your gaze back to the many bouquets you had for sale. You figured he was buying some flowers for a lady in his life.

“Well, um, what’s the occasion?” You asked, fiddling nervously in his presence. He smelt like wildfire and cinnamon—it was intoxicating. 

“I am taking a girl out on a first date tonight,” he said, his voice smooth like whiskey. He gave you a charming, fox-like smile. “I wanted to bring her flowers. I figured no one would have better taste than the flower cart girl herself. So which do you recommend?”

You bit your lip, looking at the many flowers. “Well, I’d say roses but that’s a bit cliche. Our orange and red carnations are usually favored by the ladies of this court. Perhaps a bouquet of those?”

“Are those your favorite? The carnations?”

You peered at him. He was focused on the flowers, rubbing a thumb against his bottom lips. You had seen Eris Vanserra at his coronation, but only from afar. He had been striking then. But this close, well, he was stunning, beautiful. 

He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow and you remembered he had asked you a question. You cleared your throat.

“No,” you answered. “My favorite are the fire lilies but they are not as popular.”

“I’ll take a bouquet of those,” he said with certainty, pulling a pouch of coin from his pocket.

“Are…are you sure?” You stuttered. “Are you certain she will like them?”

“Quite certain, yes,” he answered with another fox-like grin. He set down money on the cart, far more than what they were priced at.

You were quick to bundle up some of the fire lilies, adding a few complimentary flowers to fill in the empty spaces. You rolled them into some brown butcher paper and handed it over to him. “Here you are.”

“So, when and where can I find you tonight?”

“S-sorry, what?”

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised. 

“When and where can I find you tonight,” Eris purred, “for our date.” 

“Are you…being serious?” You asked, incredulously, because this had to be some sort of joke. The High Lord couldn’t possibly be asking you out on a date. 

Eris reached forward with his free hand, grabbing yours and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Indeed, I am.”

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swarming your stomach. You hadn’t had such a reaction to a male like this since Azriel. But looking at Eris, you wondered what you ever saw in the dark haired shadowsinger. Perhaps you had never needed shadow. Maybe you had needed…flame.

The next few months were a whirlwind of romance. Despite the reputation Eris had before he had been made High Lord, he had proved himself to be much more soft hearted then his cruel father. You were surprised by his kindness, his devotion and the heart he showed you. 

It had been easy to fall in love with him. 

So when the mating bond between the two of you snapped into place, it was only the cherry on top. 

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

A face on a lover with a fire in his heart

A man under cover, but you tore me apart

Oh, oh now I've found a real love

You'll never fool me again

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You were standing on the doorstep of the River House, a place you hadn’t been since that fateful night. You could hear the laughter from the Inner Circle inside. After you had left the Night Court, you had stayed in touch with almost everyone except Azriel. So when Feyre invited you over for Winter Solstice, you couldn’t say no—especially considering it was her birthday.

But you told yourself you wouldn’t stay long. Not when you had a fiance waiting for you back home. You were very eager to get back.

You knocked on the door, listening as the voices quieted down and footsteps approached. The door was pulled open and there was Feyre, dressed in a cozy get-up with a small babe perched on her hip.  

“Y/n!” Feyre lurched forward to give you a side hug. You hugged her back, pressing a small kiss to the top of Nyx’s head before handing over a wrapped present. She took it with a smile.

“Happy Birthday,” you sang. “And Happy Solstice.”

“Thank you! I’m so glad you decided to come,” she stepped back, letting you cross into the house. 

You hung up your coat and followed her towards the sitting room. You paused for a second, noting Azriel who was lingering in the doorway. You waited for the hurt to wash through you but none came. You felt…nothing. No, gone was the heartache and pain. Where an emptiness had lingered before, a new love filled it. A love so bright and fiery, it burned through everything else.

Your shoulders dropped and you breezed past him with a polite greeting. 

You were actually here to make an announcement, before you and Eris were to go public with your engagement to the other courts. You wanted to tell Feyre and Rhys personally before they heard about it from someone else. 

You were given a warm welcome and you ignored the feeling of Azriel’s eyes lingering on you throughout the night. Instead, you were content with sitting with Lucien—the only person in this room who knew about your engagement to his brother. 

You were surprised to see Elain sat next to him, their hands entwined. You peered at Azriel, making eye contact, but his face was completely unreadable.

A wine glass was shoved into your hands and the night went on. It wasn’t until you made your way to the bathroom that you actually spoke to Azriel.

“Y/n,” he called out from behind you. You turned, watching him approach with his hands held behind his back, shadows swirling.

“Azriel,” you greeted, smiling blandly. 

“Feyre told me you moved back to Autumn.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why did you never say anything before you left? I thought…well—”

He trailed off and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Thought what?”

“Well I thought, maybe, there had been something going on between the two of us,” Azriel said. “But you left so suddenly and without word.”

Why did he care now? Because Elain was with her mate and no longer an option? Regardless, you didn’t care for the reason. You had found a love that transcended the stars and universe. Though you had no ill will towards Azriel, you obviously weren’t going to entertain this conversation.

“Something going on between us?” You questioned. “Az…you know it was only ever just sex, right? I thought…I thought that had been obvious.”

Alright, so maybe you were a bit petty. 

“No, you’re right,” he said, awkwardly. “I just thought… well, nevermind.”

You smiled, playing dumb. “Happy Solstice, Azriel.”

He gave you a dip of the head. “Happy Solstice, Y/n.”

With that, you turned on your heel and continued down the corridor. When you got back from the bathroom, you knew it was time to make the announcement and head back home so you could celebrate Solstice with your new family.

You clanged against your wine glass to get everyone’s attention, standing up from your seat. Lucien gave you an encouraging nod that helped settle your nerves. 

“I have an announcement to make,” you said before taking the glamour off your hand and revealing the large engagement ring on your finger. You heard several happy gasps of air. “I’m engaged! I wanted to tell you all before you heard through court gossip. You’re looking at the soon-to-be High Lady of Autumn.”

Cheers erupted in the room as most of them had already known about your relationship with Eris. You had told Feyre about it in one of your letters. Luckily, Mor and Eris had settled their differences once he became High Lord and there was now peace between the two courts. 

“Oh my Gods! This is so exciting!”

Feyre jumped up and embraced you. You let out a small breath of relief and hugged her back. Once she let you go, some of the others also jumped up to congratulate you. 

“When did he propose?” Mor asked.

“Two weeks ago,” you smiled before dropping another bomb. “Right after the mating bond snapped into place.”

“Mates and he’s going to make you High Lady?! Y/n, this is great news!” 

It took another ten minutes before everyone settled down after congratulating you and pressing you for more details. You kept your lips sealed though, wanting to keep a few things just between you and Eris. 

It was only then you noticed Azriel had disappeared from the room.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special, special

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You let out a content sigh as you entered the High Lord and Ladys’ chamber, happy to be home. Eris was there, waiting for you with a smile on his face.

You rushed forward and he caught you in his arms, swinging you around. He held you tight against him.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he whispered into your ear. “Please.”

You giggled, pulling back to look up at him. “I was only gone for two hours!”

He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Two hours too long.”

You shook your head at him, feeling the love and admiration he was sending down the bond. The joy of having you back in his arms. “Don’t worry, I have no plans on leaving now that I’m home.”

His smile took your breath away. 

“Good,” he said before lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. You laughed as he tossed you onto the fluffy pillows with a wolfish grin. “Because I have to make up for lost time now.”

“You’re insatiable,” you teased as he crawled over you, kissing your neck and jaw. 

“You love it,” he purred, his red hair falling forward to tickle your forehead. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“And I love you,” Eris said with such honesty, you felt yourself soften underneath him. 

You spent the rest of Winter Solstice wrapped up in his arms, the only place you truly felt at home. 

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

[taskforce420]

tap out. simon 'ghost' riley

it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.

it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.

so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.

as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.

your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.

and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.

and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.

he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.

ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.

"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.

"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.

you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.

"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.

"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.

like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.

or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.

or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.

or...or even the time with ghost.

when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.

you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.

"i know..."

lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)

[tinytennisskirt]

a good old fluffy/intimate friends to lovers

stanford art ringing your doorbell at like 3am in the morning, drunk, with a bloody nose and a beat-up, puffy face after a huge bar fight where he was defending you after some asshole made rude comments about u. ☹️☹️☹️ taking care of him afterwards. him literally being on the verge of passing out from both the alcohol and his throbbing face. fluff and intimacy ENSUES. i’m talking like drunken love confession and everything. art would always get vulnerable, lost and sweet when he got drunk which is exactly why he avoided getting drunk often, but you found it sweet. this time things got a little different😊

Wounds and Words

summary: as above ^^^ (with my little twists of course)

warnings: mentions of a fight, blood, wounds, bruising. drunk art absolutely smitten. soft, fluffy, sweet.

The night after finals, you could finally rest. There was no more studying to do, no more late nights. Just summer. With the intention of playing grandma, you decided that tonight you’d stay in, shower, watch a movie, and sleep early. The day was long, but the shower was nice and the movie was good. Your hair airdried perfectly, watching a movie ignoring the sounds of post-final partying on the floor above you. You didn’t mind it, you were just glad to be drinking iced tea and enjoying the lack of stress.  You were just about to turn the TV on when there was a knock at your door. It was so quiet you almost missed it. 

You, in your loose pajama pants and tank top, turned the TV off and got up, arms crossed over your chest to excuse the lack of a bra. It was completely casual the way you opened the door expecting maybe a fluke or something strange, but it was just Art. 

Art Donaldson, the first person you met at Stanford, who had in the absence of your best friend and the absence of his, became one of your best friends. He was sweet, thoughtful, the best listener, and the kind of boy who wasn’t afraid not to seem much of one. He had been susceptible to eyeliner twice just because you asked. He watched your shows with you, tried repeatedly to teach you how to swing a racket, and was always up for coffee in the evening. He was also always there for you, so maybe along the route, you might have fallen for him just a bit. Who wouldn’t?

For the first time in all of the time you’d known Art, tonight was the only night you excused yourself from plans with him. He wanted to hit the campus bar to celebrate, but understood completely when you told him you planned to do nothing, which is why, when you opened the door, the first words out his mouth were, “I’m sorry.” 

He was standing just outside your room, holding the side of his face which had endured some sort of trauma. His cheekbone was bleeding and already bruising and there was a cut above his eyebrow. His nose was also bruising and bleeding and his lip looked just a little swollen. “Oh my god,” you said, moving forward. He was in a red T-shirt, but you could see the droplets that had fallen down his chin, onto his collar and the front of his shirt. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’ve been drinking,” he told you, questions aside. You could tell that he had been, it was common sense, celebrating was celebrating. You pulled him into your room, guiding him carefully so that he didn’t topple anywhere. He went with it, and moved exactly the way you directed him, just a little wobbly. 

“No, I know,” you replied, concern might as well have been written on your forehead the way you looked at him. “Are you okay? What happened? Come-” You pulled him gently to the bathroom. He was more drunk than usual- when you went out, he was usually the designated driver and when it was just the two of you in either one of your dorms, he was always just a little more sober than you. But right now he was out of it, majorly, beyond what you’d seen from him. It probably also didn’t help that he was bleeding from the face quite a bit. 

He was putty in your hands as you sat him on the closed seat of your toilet. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to do anything tonight. I didn’t know I was walking here until I was here.” He said, slurring just a little. 

“Art, it’s okay,” you managed a smile as you leaned over and grabbed your basket of facecloths. The whole thing toppled over but one fell into the sink and you turned on the tap. “You’re not answering, though. Are you okay?” 

He nodded, a small movement. “Better now.” He smiled back. 

You left him just momentarily to grab a cup from the other room and bring it back, filling it with water before shutting the sink off. You looked at Art again, who had his head down, looking at his hands, which you now noticed were beaten up as well. This was the product of a fight, you presumed by the way his knuckles were messed up. Art wasn’t the fighting type, he was one of the softest people you knew. The only thing about him that revolved around impact was hitting a tennis ball. Aside from that, he was always very soft-handed. Noted from every time he moved your hair from your face for you or when he held your hair when you threw up. When he hugged you, he was never too tight with it. He braided your hair once- he watched a video on how. So how he got into a fight was beyond you. 

“Art?” You sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub next to him. 

He lifted his head, to him, you were spinning. “Mhm?” He was so out of it. “Hi.” 

The grin that spread up his face was sweet almost, along with his little greeting. It almost made you want to grin back. “Hi.” You smiled. “Drink this for me?” 

“Water?” 

“Water,” you nodded, handing him the cup. He took it, drank it, all of it. “I’m going to clean you up, is that okay? It might hurt.” 

He nodded back, “Mhm.” He scrunched his nose just a little as you stood to get the wet cloth. You opened your little first aid kid and rested it on your knees. He was putty again, almost limp, eyes closed. You clicked your tongue. “I’m sorry, I’m tired.” He replied. “One too many.” 

“Seems like it,” you answered. “This is going to hurt a little-” You pressed the cloth gently against the cut above his brow. He winced, scrunching his nose again. It was cute- you wished it didn’t come from pain. “I’m wondering if you’re going to tell me what happened?” 

“You’re so nice,” he cut in, opening his eyes again. They were soft, settled on you with some sort of meaning. “And you smell good.” 

You giggled just a little, moving the cloth to clean his cheekbone, keeping the pressure light. “You’re sweet. Thank you. Hold still, please.” 

He grinned again, shutting his eyes and letting you clean him up. He was still so pretty even with all the bruising and slight swelling to his face. You carefully wiped away all the excess blood and his nose stopped bleeding. You poured him another cup of water, which he drank gratefully, but it didn’t sober him up much. You tilted your head to the side and dabbed up more of the blood from the wound on his cheekbone. It hurt to see him so pained, but he took it like a champ. “You always take care of me, I feel bad.” He sighed a little as you wiped down over his chin gently. 

“You don’t need to feel bad and it’s not like it’s unequal. You take care of me too.” 

He hummed just a little, “No. Not like this. Feels unfair.”

“We’re friends, Art, it’s fair. I don’t mind at all, I just want you to be okay.” You told him patiently. His eyes gazed over your face, gently letting the cloth move over his lower lip. His eyes were set on your eyes, your eyelashes, your lips, back to your eyes. “But what would you do without me, hm?” You smiled. 

He smiled back, his head falling just a little. If he wasn’t bruising you would have seen the pink flush that took over his cheeks and nose. “I don’t know.” 

“I don’t want you to know,” you told him. His grin was boyish and endearing, sincere and oddly happy for someone who had been beaten up in such a way. “Hold still, I have to go over your forehead again. I’m going to hold pressure.” 

He held still and you leaned forward just a bit to press the cloth to his forehead. The bleeding hadn’t stopped, so you put your junior lifeguarding skills to work with the pressure to stop it. His face was just a little closer to yours. You could see his eyes up close and he was almost shameless with the way he was looking at you. Drunk, at the borderline of sleep, and major intoxication. Half-lidded, watching the way you bit your lip as you focused on him. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbled. You looked down to meet his eyes. He kept them trained on yours with laser focus and you felt your heart pick up. 

“Art, you’re drunk,” you reasoned, trying to keep in your nervous laugh. 

“I’m right.” He said, keeping eye contact. “You’re pretty. You’re really pretty, like model pretty.” 

You felt your cheeks turn pink, “Thank you. That’s really, really sweet. Nobody has ever said that to me.” You began to dig into the first aid kid for the small yellow tube of polysporin and the small vial of hydrogen peroxide to disinfect. 

“Why?” He questioned, an almost puzzled look finding its way to his face. His eyes were so soft, so innocent in asking. His eyelashes fluttered. It was a shame how bruised up he was getting. 

“I don’t know, I just… Nobody has said it before.” 

“They should.” He said, voice just a little lower. He hung his head, looking away. “Fuck, I’m so drunk. My face hurts.” 

“I know,” you smiled just a little. “Hold still again for me?” He winced as you placed a little cotton pad with hydrogen peroxide over his cuts, gently dabbing. He scrunched up his nose in pain, you inhaled sharply, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” 

“Mmm- It’s okay,” his pained voice replied. His eyes opened once the pain passed, and met yours again. Every time he looked at you, you swore he was seeing something else the way his eyes looked so full of wonder. Like he had stars in his eyes. He was pretty too, but you’d rather tell him that when he was sober. Your heart was still beating hard and on top of that, you were still just a little hung up on how this all happened. “Y/N.”

“Mhm?” You returned, dabbing again. He winced, and you cringed. He went back to looking at you the way he was. Slightly puffy lower lip hanging just the smallest bit open. You watched him swallow, looking down before he answered. 

“I should wait to tell you what happened until I’m sober, I’m afraid I’m going to slip up or… something.” He told you, the way he spoke was gentle in a way where it seemed he was trying not to hurt your feelings. “I want to tell you, I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to tell you while drunk.” He was candid. 

“That’s okay.” You nodded. “A secret.”

“You’re going to make me tell you.” His smile crept back up. “It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking stupid.” You grinned back, giggling just a little at his tone and smile- something light in a room with lots of tissues and cloths and cotton pads covered in blood. He looked at you with that wide grin of his and your heart skipped another beat. The smile fell to a straight line, “Don’t look at me like that.” His eyes fell off yours and moved onto the floor, pulling his shirt collar up to hide in, almost. He was so drunk, you giggled again.

“Like what?” You inquired, taking a break from drying his now-cleaned wounds, and moving his shirt collar down again. His eyes set on yours again. Like they were magnetic to yours like they couldn’t stray for long, evident by small glances at your lips. You caught it, “Art, you’re drunk. I should get you bandaged and to bed, get you more water, I-” You scrambled, but he stayed so still. So focused on you. 

You turned your focus to unwrapping the first bandaid. “I think you know what. But it’s… fine.” He said. “I’m saying too much, I think, I’m sorry-” He rubbed over his good eye, his hand then trailing down his opposite cheek. “I just think- I-” Once more, his eyes met yours, then looked away again. “Fuck.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you smiled. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“I’ll stay curious for a bit, it’s okay, I promise.” You gently smoothed a bandaid over the cut on his forehead. His eyes were trained on yours, unable to move, it seemed. Followed yours through every movement it took to place the bandage on. “I’m not upset or anything, I can’t be, you know that. I’m just glad you came here instead of bleeding out in your dorm.” 

He smiled just a bit more, “Thank you. Hey, your eyes are really beautiful.”

“You need more water.” You said, moving closer to put a bigger bandage on his cheekbone. “You are drunk drunk.”

“Drunk thoughts sober words. Other way around. I am drunk.” 

“Yeah, just a little.” 

“My face hurts,” he sighed. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Just am,” you answered, standing up in front of him to get him more water. “I don’t like to see you this way. So much blood, I… I’m just sorry that whatever happened, happened.”

“It’s okay. Was worth it.” He turned his head shaking into a nod. “I’m so tired. Fuck. I’m going to say something stupid.”

You gave him the water, he drank it. You made sure he got every drop of water, stepping closer to collect his cup. He looked up at you as you reached for another tiny bandage. His hand gently rested itself on your leg. A cool hand on the back of your knee, softly. Your heart picked up for the tenth time. You spoke, the heart in your throat an obstacle overcome, “As if I haven’t ranted to you about the dumbest things drunk. There’s nothing you could say that could throw me.” You told him. “No judgment, I swear.”  

“It’s different,” he was dancing around something. “You’re so beautiful. I really can’t-” he was lost, his train of thoughts cut off. “Fuck.” He tried to hide his face again. 

“How many shots?” you bat it off. He was out of it, he was gone. He was so drunk. His hand slipped just a little up the back of your leg, then back down. You hoped he couldn’t feel the entirety of your body rise in temperature.

“Too many.”

You were blushing a little too hard, you looked away. “Hey- um- can you stand?” He nodded, hand moving from your leg as he stood. He stood close to you, so close to you. His cheekbone looked worse, but his eyes were still so open and pretty. “Okay, this way.” He let you guide him again but instead of making it to your bed, he sat on the couch. There was no moving him now. “Couch it is.” 

“It’s a good couch,” he sighed, eyes shut. “Your pillows smell like you.” 

You smiled just a little at that, but sat next to him. “You need to move onto your side, okay? Just so you don’t die in my dorm.”

He nodded, moving onto his side without hesitation, doing just what you asked of him. He was mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear. You gently moved his blonde curls from his face. You knew that spinning bliss and tiredness that came with laying down after drinking too much, Art had been at your side for a lot of those moments, pulling you up off the grass of someone’s lawn and making sure you got home safely. You’d woken up tucked in countless times after falling asleep in that state. You smiled at him, finally getting your turn. Aside from his beaten-up face, he looked peaceful. 

Your eyes fell on his knuckles and you quickly went back to the bathroom to get your supplies and as he lay there, softly breathing in and out, mumbling now and then, you treated his knuckles the same way you did his face. “You’re going to be so pissed when you hear about it from someone else,” his voice was only audible for a moment. It made you pause. 

“Hm?” 

“I shouldn’t tell you, it comes off bad. But I don’t want you to what it from someone else…” He said, his face slightly smushed where he was laying. He trailed off again. You slunk out of your chair and sat on the floor in front of him. He opened his eyes just a little bit. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” You replied. His hand was in your own, you dropped the cloth. The wondering what happened was eating you alive. “Art, what happened?” 

He groaned just a little, “Just assholes. Talking about the length of your tennis… skirt.” He stretched and yawned. “At the bar.” You could deduct one thing: the fight had something to do with you. You were a little taken aback, but there was nothing you could find in you to say. “Said something about doing things… with you… to you. Made a mistake and told them to shut the fuck up. But it doesn’t feel like a mistake. My face hurts.” 

“Art…” 

“Don’t tell you I told you,” he sighed, rubbing his good eye again. “I don’t fight, I don’t fight.” 

“I know,” you moved his hair again gently. 

“He swung first. I don’t fight, but the way he was talking about you-.” He mumbled. “I just didn’t…” He trailed off again, then came back slightly. “Want you to think… I fight.” 

You smiled a little more, “I know you don’t fight, Art. I know.” 

“I had to,” he replied with another yawn. “Could’ve walked away. I would’ve… if it was anything else, but it was you.” He turned back onto his back, your hand accidentally slipping down his jaw following the movement, your hand previously in his hair. “Always you.” His slightly slurred tone just sounded tired at this point. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. 

“Art… You should… You need to get some sleep.” You were too flustered to act properly. Should you leave him to rest, say something and hope he didn’t remember sober, or not say anything at all and just wallow in this new fact that his injuries are because he stood up against someone saying something against you? You started to rise from your knees, “I’ll get you some more water.” 

“Can you just stay?” He asked, his eyes opening again to meet yours. His hand reached out for the back of your leg again, softly touching. Like he wanted to touch more but everywhere else wasn’t safe. He had those morals, at least. “Please.” 

You couldn’t move. You were sure your cheeks were a shade of pink close to full-on red. He was touchy in a friends way, but somehow, his hand on the back of your knee felt more intimate than anything. His face was fucked up because he had to tell someone off for sexualizing you, that was crazy, that was…  His hand was soft and a little bit cold and as you sat back down it slipped back to resting with him, but you swore the feeling of it echoed in your body. “I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him. “I’m sorry about everything.” 

“It’s not your fault,” he hummed, propping himself up dizzily on his elbows. His soft eyes would not leave yours, his smile was endearing, lovely, even with the puffy lip. His gaze shifted to different points on your face, and your smile never wavered in return. Once again, he rubbed his good eye, hand sliding down his cheek, teeth showing in his crooked grin. “Did I tell you that you’re pretty?” 

“You did.” 

“You’re so pretty.” He almost whispered.

“So are you,” you let slip. His grin widened, he looked like he was struggling to stay awake, to stay above the alcohol and the sleep that called to him, was pulling him under. You looked at the bandages on his face. The unhidden bruises. He was beautiful. Always was. You wished he was sober. 

He wished the same thing, “You are- I like you so much.” He spilled, slurring slightly, leaning just a little toward you like it was a secret. Your stomach did a small flip, you were sure you were reaching a shade of light red. “For so long, too, it’s been killing me, you’re so… perfect.” He blabbed. “Patrick said I don’t have a chance, says you’re too-”

“You have a chance,” you cut in. 

“I have a chance?” 

“You have a chance.” 

“Tell me that in the morning too?” His grin was now from ear to ear. You pushed your hair behind your ears. “Fuck- I told you, didn’t I? I was planning to tell you at…” He trailed off again, looking at the ceiling.

“Afraid so,” you giggled. He was forgetful, drunk, tired. You could see him fading as he lowered himself back onto his side. “I’ll pretend it didn’t happen. Tell me again soon, you get a re do.” As if his sweet drunk self was any less worth the confession. Your heart was beating against your ribs and you were doing your best to stay mature and hide it. 

“Re do sounds good. Mmm- Thank you for patching me…” He yawned. “Up. I’ll see you in the…” He yawned again. “Morning.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at all of this. His confession almost dismissed the rest of the situation, but compiled it was a lot and it was all for you. All for you. He was all for… you. He was so sweet, mostly asleep at this point. And he liked you. And maybe he meant it. You clicked your tongue, tilting your head slightly. He liked you, he had liked you, he got into a fight… and he thought you were pretty. “Goodnight, Art.” 

“Goodnight,” Art sighed, smiling. You watched him fade, long eyelashes closed to rest. You stood up, hand gently brushing over his hair before getting him one of your fluffiest soft blankets. You draped him in it, then turned off the light, setting a glass of water on the coffee table. You then went to bed thinking about everything… laying awake on your back. For twenty minutes you just tossed, thinking about the confession, the fight, everything.  He did something he would never do just for you, to defend you. You weren’t even around and he still wanted your name out of their mouths. It was so out of character but at the same time so undeniably Art. He was so sweet, he was… everything. 

So you got up out of bed. Turned the light on and grabbed a marker from off your desk. You slunk into where the couch was, where he was sleeping and on his arm, you wrote a little messily, 

‘You have a chance.’

You smiled at that, got yourself a drink of water, and sat on the end of the couch thinking some more. Before you knew it, you were getting more and more tired, and as much as you wanted to move, the end of the couch was pulling you in. So slowly, you sank onto the opposite end of the couch. You faced away from Art’s feet, but you didn’t mind it all that much as you drifted off to sleep. Your bed remained empty for the rest of the night. 

You woke with the sun, still well-rested. You were facing the back of the couch, but the light still got in your eyes. Slowly, you moved upward, to a sitting position on the arm of the couch, gathering your surroundings. Art, still peacefully asleep, his bruises set in. You sighed quietly before quietly starting a pot of coffee and setting out some painkillers. His arm was still extended, reading those four words. It was all real. Everything from the night before was real. And you’d just have to sit with that until he read his arm and decided on when to take that re do. You’d wait. 

In the meantime, he was still one of your closest friends. He was up not too long after you and you poured him some coffee and gave him the painkillers while he looked at his bandaged wounds in the mirror. “Thank you.” He said a little sheepishly like he was shy about this. Like he was embarrassed by it.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, “What do you remember?” 

He sipped the coffee, looking to the ceiling. “Last thing I remember is… Leaving the bar.” 

“Mmm, so not much,” you teased. He grinned back at you, trying to hide it with his mug. “You feel okay, though?” 

“Hurts to smile, but other than that just a headache.” He replied. “I really- You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“There’s no reality that I wouldn’t.” You shrugged, walking over to your minifridge to see what there could be for breakfast. Nothing. You had nothing. Art leaned against the doorframe of your bathroom. With your hands on your hips, you turned to him. “Do you want to go somewhere for breakfast?” You asked. You knew he’d seen his arm. You knew you’d wait for it, but it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun with it. 

He grinned and his eyes fell bashfully on the ground. “Yeah, sure. Somewhere off campus though?” 

“And we’ll stop by your dorm so you can change out of your stuff.” You agreed, passing him as you slipped into the closed door of your bedroom from the open area. As you got dressed, Art was looking at the black marker on his arm. You have a chance. Messy as it was, he knew your writing. There wasn’t much he could put together, but he did remember in bits and pieces, the way you touched his face and hair so gently the night before. It came and went in blurry memories so in his head, there was only one form of context for the writing on his arm. 

 He grinned and stayed grinning as you hopped out of your bedroom, putting on your socks as you went. He washed the mug he used and took one last glance at his face before the two of you headed out. He could not get that grin off of his face. You agreed with yourself to wait, but with the writing on his arm, you had no idea how short of a wait it was about to be. 

[daydreaming-nerd]

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest) 

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 

“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff. 

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 

“Oh really?” I sneer. 

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  

“Azriel I-” 

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 

“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 

“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 

[thoughtidtry]

Dress pt.1 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. First time publishing my fanfics so I’d love to hear what you think! Almost 2K..... I'll do a pt.2 cause I still have more thoughts on Lando with this song. Part: 1 2 3

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"Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you"

Lando couldn't stop smiling at his phone in the paddock, not when you were the one texting him. All the drivers knew about his best friend, who they never got to meet.

"She's a busy person"

He would declare anytime they teased him about meeting you or asked if you were coming to a race. It wasn't that he didn't want you to come or that he didn't want you to meet the other drivers, more he didn't want to share your time. He wasn't lying to them per se you were busy and had moved to America for university as soon as you both had graduated secondary school. It didn't matter he had never actually invited you to a race.

"I'm spilling wine in the bathtub. You kiss my face and we're both drunk"

He could remember the night or well day you left like it was yesterday. The night before your flight, he had stayed over to spend as much time with you as possible. The giggles you made sneaking back into your room after your parents had gone to bed were almost as intoxicating as the wine you had brought back. You both stayed up drinking and reminiscing over the years you had spent together.

Somehow you had both ended up in the bathroom attached to your room. Too drunk to sit let alone stand, you had made yourself comfortable in the bathtub while he was seated beside you leaning up against it. He doesn't remember what was said or how it happened, but he will never forget how soft your lips felt against his or how you sighed after the kiss with a dopey grin as if a weight had been lifted off your chest.

The next morning he woke up in your bed but you were nowhere to be seen. A note on the bedside table along with some pain meds was all that was left.

Tried to wake you to say bye before my flight, but you wouldn't wake up. I don't know how much we drank but I've got a killer headache and can't remember anything so thanks for that. Text me when you wake! Love, Y/N

You had always kept in contact but he never would tell you what happened that night. He didn't want to lose you even if that kiss would haunt him every time he closed his eyes. You managed the time difference well, never judging the other for being up or asleep at random times throughout the day.

Late-night calls when you wanted to tell him something funny between classes changed to funny things your friends had done once you graduated from university. Even the early morning drunken messages he'd get around the time he woke up were moments he cherished. He missed having you next to him. Wished you would come home, but you have your life now in America and found a good job after university.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and desperately waiting"

Little did Lando know, the other drivers had stolen his phone and gotten your number long ago just waiting for the right moment to use it. Daniel was the first to reach out and introduce himself explaining Lando had wanted to let you know his phone had died.

You had shrugged it off, with how much Lando talked about the other driver it didn't seem that surprising to you that Lando had given your number to him. It was no surprise to Daniel how friendly and kind you were, but how smart you were was a shock. He never would have imagined their little Lando was friends with a lawyer.

Carlos and Oscar followed soon after hearing more about you from Daniel. They both said they wanted to get some stories of Lando as a kid to make fun of him so they begged Daniel for your number and to not tell Lando. You had a laugh retelling stories to them both that you knew Lando would be embarrassed about.

Max and Charles on the other hand had respected Lando's privacy when it came to you until they were added to a group chat with you made by Oscar without Lando's knowledge.

You didn't speak to the other drivers much in the group chat so you had forgotten it existed most of the time. They would send you pictures of Lando doing goofy things every once in a while, but that was about it. Never once did you think to mention it to Lando, it was a little secret look into his world and the photos gave you a way to know he was having fun. They reminded you of all the good times you both had shared together.

"Flashback when you met me. Your buzzcut and my hair bleached. Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me."

Secondary school hadn't started out easily for you, having moved away from all of your primary school friends. As a farewell, you all decided to color each other's hair. You had ended up a platinum blonde which made you stand out even more on the first day of school. Making new friends was hard at first. Most of the time you felt alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

It was probably the worst time of your life looking back. At least until a boy with a cheeky grin and sassy comebacks made it his mission to befriend you. At first, you didn't know what to make of the boy. Turned out his friend group had done something similar to yours but had buzzed all their hair off instead of dyeing it. He saw the girl with good grades who sat alone every day not as a freak like everyone else but as someone worth taking a chance on. You had no right to fall as fast as you did, but you couldn't help it. He was funny, kind, and well perfect.

"Flashback to my mistakes. My rebounds, my earthquakes. Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me."

As secondary school went on, Lando changed, not as a person but physically. No longer was he the straggly, small, buzzcut kid. He got taller, grew his hair out, and even became charming in a way you would never have imagined. Looking back he could remember getting his first girlfriend and how excited he was only to have his heartbroken.

He dated around more from then on, never getting attached to another girl. By developing a confident and flirtatious appearance he could avoid being hurt again. It worked on everyone as he gained popularity, everyone except you. You saw him for who he really was, always there to catch him when the mask slipped off and he shattered on the ground. Something he would always appreciate you for.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and anticipation"

When the drivers had first approached you with their plan you were skeptical.

Would he even want to see me after all this time?

You thought. You two had always talked about meeting again but your schedules never aligned. He always had a race or you had a case that you couldn't miss. They talked about how Lando had seemed down the last couple of weeks while you had been busy with a case, how they thought he missed you, and that they had a race in America soon. Blowing care to the wind you agreed. How could you miss the chance to see him again?

Clutching the hem of your shirt as you walked into the paddock for the first time, Daniel was waiting past security to show you around. Oscar had been able to pull some strings and get you a Race Day VIP pass without Lando knowing. You texted in the group chat and Daniel had been sent to come get you so Lando wouldn't notice. He couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to see the look on Lando's face as you two walked.

"Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend."

Soon enough Lando's laughter fills the air as Carlos holds his shoulder while bending over in laughter as well. You stood still for a moment watching to carve this memory of him into your mind before moving closer.

You smiled a bit to yourself, he was always the life of the party, always finding a way to make everyone around him laugh, and as always oblivious to his surroundings. He was still the same Lando you had fallen for all those years ago.

"Hey, Lan."

You said once you were a few feet away. Lando froze for a moment before turning around to look at you in shock. He couldn't believe you were here. Really here standing in the paddock only a few feet away next to Daniel of all people. He decided he didn't care how it happened only that it did.

Your hands started to shake as he stared at you. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, do something, but you were stuck. Stuck looking at him with hope in your eyes that he would say something, do something. Anything.

Carlos chucked at Lando's state before patting him on the back.

"Well, are you just gonna stand there? You know it took a lot of planning to get her here."

Lando snapped out of his trance, looking in between Carlos and you before breaking out in a sprint straight for you with the biggest smile on his face. He lifted you up by the waist spinning around with you in his arms.

It felt so good to have you in his arms again after all this time. At that moment, he realized it didn't matter how long it had been you were his home and he wasn't gonna let you go again.

[agaypanic]

Regina's Barbie Part 2

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: After giving you a makeover, Regina takes you to a party. She hates the attention you’re getting and decides to make it clear that you’re not available.

A/N: sorry for not posting in a million years (4 days). my first regina fic got a lot of love and some people wanted a part 2, so here it is!

***

You had been to a few high school parties in your life, but you had never been to one thrown by one of the most popular kids in school. So you weren’t too surprised to see everyone throwing you looks when you walked in, especially when Regina George was clinging to your arm to make sure you didn’t stray too far from her. You may have been dressed in the girl’s clothes with stellar makeup, but everyone could tell you were an outsider.

“Relax,” Regina whispered in your ear, and you had to keep yourself from shuddering at the chill that ran down your spine. 

She pulled you over to a counter that was filled with different drinks, figuring you wouldn’t be able to stand this party sober any longer. You didn’t ask Regina what she had put in the cup she handed to you; you were too busy gulping the strong liquid down.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right back,” Regina said, seemingly distracted as she looked across the room in disgust. “I think Gretchen’s trying to hook up with Jason, that skeez!” 

Then you were on your own. It pissed you off a bit, Regina dragging you to this party just to leave you alone. But you decided to brush it off, pouring yourself another drink and gravitating towards a wall. Soon enough, she’d be back for you, and you could get through this night.

“Hey there!” Some guy appeared next to you, making you flinch in surprise. You recognized him from hallways and assemblies but didn’t know his name. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new or something?”

“Nope.” You laugh, putting the cup to your lips as you thought of something else to say. “I usually don’t have time for parties, but a friend wanted me to come.”

“Well, whoever your friend is, I’ll have to thank them.” Anyone else in your position might have giggled at the attention this objectively attractive guy was giving you. But in all honesty, you were too busy wondering when Regina was coming back to you. “Wanna dance, hottie?”

“No thanks.” You respond, eyes darting to the other side of the room, where Regina seemed to be reprimanding and chasing away the boy that Gretchen had been talking to. You wondered if she’d turn around to face you if you stared at her hard enough. “I’m kind of with someone here.” It wasn’t entirely true, at least not in the way he might’ve taken it. But you were trying your best to get this stranger to back off.

“Did this someone give you that kiss mark?” You flinched when he touched your cheek, smudging the lip print that Regina had planted on you just an hour or so before. It made you mad for some reason, and not just because this man touched your face without asking. “I bet I can give you a better one.”

“Oh my god, get away from her, Travis!” A venomous voice sounded, and you were grateful to see Regina standing next to you, giving Travis a sneer that almost made her perfect face seem not so perfect. “Can’t you see she wants nothing to do with you?”

Travis took a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. Then he squinted, eyes darting between your face and Regina’s lips before he let out a small chuckle.

“Lemme guess…” He said, turning back to you while pointing at the blonde. “Is this who you’re with?”

Regina answered before you could even think of a response.

“Yeah, she is. So go find someone else to try to blow you; she’s taken.”

With that, Travis left, cheeks reddened with slight embarrassment and drunkenness. You were still stuck on Regina’s last sentence when she grabbed your chin, turning your head to face her. She inspected your cheek, seemingly disappointed at the state her once pristine kiss mark was now in.

“You’d think that he’d see this and take a hint.” She muttered, not letting go of your face.

“And what hint would he be getting from it?” You asked, feeling shy. Even more so when Regina’s eyes started staring into yours. “Asking, you know, just out of curiosity.”

“Are you serious?” She asked, raising a brow. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you wouldn’t have to respond. But even when you were done, and your cup was thrown into a nearby trash can, Regina seemed to still be waiting for a response.

“Just a bit…” You replied.

Regina scoffed, stepping closer to you. If that was even possible. You gulped at the extremely close proximity, trying to not look down at her lips.

“Guess I have to make it clear to everyone that you’re mine.” 

Regina used both hands to cup your face and pull you towards her. You made a slight noise of surprise as she pressed her lips to yours, but you were quick to return the kiss after the initial shock wore off. People must have been watching Regina George kissing some girl they’d probably never seen before. But for a moment, it felt like only you and Regina were in this hot and crowded room. 

When she pulled back, Regina smirked at your stunned expression, clearly still reeling from the kiss.

“Everyone, including you.” She said, kissing you once more before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the living room to show you off some more.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2

[troloxyn]

Self Control. (Jason Todd x Reader)

TW- Smut, drinking!!

One night at a party, you and Jason hook up, and now you're both too afraid to speak to one another. That is until he decides to help you with homework two weeks later, breaking the silence.

Listen, I haven't been able to do any school work because my mind decided it HAD to finish this first. so i hope yall enjoy! Deadass over five thousand words, I think my brain melted a little bit writing this.

Word count: 5,366

--

Having aspirations outside of vigilantism was ideal, as long as you could keep up with the pressure. Piles of overdue assignments, paperwork, case studies and unread emails clawed at her from inside of her computer. You should have something outside of your nightlife escapades- it was encouraged, expected. Keeping up with the workload was just second nature. Which right now, she could not. If she gave into the pressure of her inability to focus, she would have dropped out of her bachelors classes two semesters ago. However, the eating force of fear of failure won her over. Not only was she not one to accept failure, her entire ride to college was free- on behalf of the Wayne estate- and she definitely couldn’t disappoint him of all people. 

This one was destroying her. A case study in her criminal psychology class. If the world hadn’t moved digitally, her entire desk would be littered with notes. She avoided this project on purpose- and now that she came to face it, she realized perhaps waiting until a week before it was due was giving herself too much credit. She whisked through photos, police reports, fake-autopsies, psychologist interviews- the pages were on a never ending loop. She was tearing her hair out by the time she made it to the end of the information portion, her wrist becoming sore from endless clicking. Time to focus. Lock the fuck in, girl, she tried to tell herself. 

“How’s the six figure amount of debt going?” 

She jumped out the sound of his voice, turning in her chair to face him. Standing in the door frame, leaned against the wooden, cherry kissed wall of the library with his arms crossed. Of course, he looked incredible. She could tell he just got back from the gym, his sleeveless black shirt over his toned frame and a pair of gray sweatpants she wouldn’t let him walk out of the house in if they were a couple. His face gleamed as if he was sweating, his hair pushed back in a mess. She didn’t do a double take because she knew she’d lose some form of her composure. 

The other reason she couldn’t focus. 

“Great, considering I'm not paying for it.” She scooted closer to her computer, as if it could pull her away from his magnetizing grip on her. She could feel his eyes behind her in the grazing of an awkward, heavy silence. 

“So, what are you working on?” 

One could say the two had gotten closer within the past couple of months. Before, he practically ignored her. As they got closer, their main interactions were chastising her over being late to school. Scolding her, as if Bruce didn’t do it enough. It was never condescending- when she slept in for classes, Jason would be pounding on her door or dragging her out of bed. 

The pressure caused by him came to a halt, though, after a drunken night of intimacy. Now she was definitely waking up late for school. She’d gotten sort of used to him forcing her out of bed.  It was an accident, she thinks to herself over and over every time her body recalled his touch. That’s what was really bothering her. The two would meet eyes around others and he wouldn’t tease her the way he usually did- something lingered behind his gaze and it bothered her- the way their eyes would meet when everyone got together. The way she’d catch him looking over at her from across the room- even before that night, but more often now. Neither of them spoke about it, she didn’t think they really had the guts to. Besides him initiating a few conversations, they haven’t talked at all. It happened rather quickly between them. He had her in the bathroom on the sink, tearing off her dress and squeezing her exposed breasts, his thick and strong legs pressed between her thighs so intimately. Bites all over her neck- bites that certainly bruised her collarbone and shoulders, uncaring for her sleeveless dress as long as it came off. A party on the outside, people babbling in conversation and music blaring louder than Bruce would have liked. Dick had poured heavy drinks that night. In those moments, nothing else mattered. It was between Jason and her, the clothes he was tearing off of her and all the frustrations he’d ignored. His free hand around the back of her neck, forcing her into a sloppy, messy, kiss- her lathered moans of excitement and the friction of his jeans to her thin panties. Quieting her with his lips, drenching her entire face with kisses. rubbing her swollen clit, unzipping his jeans- slipping her panties to the side, pushing himself in. Her gasping, parted lips and wide eyes- “Shush, baby- fuck- They’re gonna hear us-“

“A case study,” she replied, snapping out of her memories into reality. She could feel his presence behind her chair, feeling a hand come onto its back rest, gently making contact with her incidentally. She cleared her throat. “It’s a research project and a case study. It’s very long. I decided to ignore it for.. a while.” 

He hummed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We’re used to this kind of stuff anyway.” 

“It’s not that,” she replied, scooting away from his touch. “It’s uh- Just can’t focus.” 

“That’s no excuse.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. She tried not to look at him too much- His ungloved, veined hands that trailed up to his tight arms. His fingers tapped one by one on her desk. He towered over her, he was so huge- “You need help?” 

“Help? No way,” she replied. She could smell whatever cologne he was wearing and she remembered it vividly from that night. She cleared her throat awkwardly, laughing a little at his suggestion in sheer intimidation of his looming  presence. “No. I wouldn’t want to bother you with this.”

He shrugged. Finding an excuse to at least be around her since it all happened. “I ‘ont got shit else to do. Plus, might be fun. You got other homework?” 

She cried, shrinking into her arms. “Fighting with you guys and being a college student- I don’t know which is gonna kill me first.” 

He was silent for a little bit and it ate at her. She was anticipating a sly remark, a comment about needing to get her life together, pull yourself up by the bootstraps, not an invasive silence- 

“You should be proud. It’s not easy.” 

His comment almost left her crippled. 

“Huh?” She looked back at him, giving him a look. He immediately froze up, frowning at her, flustered by her reaction. “Dammit- I try to be nice for once- I’m saying you’re doing a good job. I certainly couldn’t give a fuck enough to do what you do.” She smiled a bit and turned back to her screen. 

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smacked his lips and leaned in closer to read the text on her screen, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird. I won’t do it again.” 

Except, that wasn’t the nicest thing he’d said to her. Maybe while sober, but that night in the bathroom through the suffocated echoes of laughter and music, he practically fawned over her. Spilling words of affection, calling her a goddess, treating every part of her body with an intense passion she didn’t expect he held for her. She’d never expected him to be like this, thrusting himself into her and gripping her ass tightly, mouth pressed against one another and still looking for oxygen through painted moans. Kissing every area of exposed skin he could breathe near, worshiping her body like it was a drying resource. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, pulling back while fucking her into the sink to get a look at her taking him. His thumb brushed her clit with enough force to form a knot in her stomach.  “J-jason-” He cut her off moans with more kisses, never stopping his rhythm.  “Better be quiet, baby,” he said through her lips. “You want this whole house to know what I’m doing to you?” Her moans were muffled by her whining, biting her lips closed as he looked into her eyes. “You want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you?” She nodded her head yes, barely able to manage the words out of her desperate mouth and he chuckled. “Oh yeah?” His voice made the knot in her stomach tighten like a balled fist. He could see it in her face and feel it inside of her, each word he spoke and every thrust she was being knocked over the edge. “Keep up them pretty moans then, baby, everyone’s gonna know who’s making you feel this good-” Her moans peaked and through his drunken state he wondered if anyone really heard them in here. He couldn’t care less, being knuckle deep into the girl he’d had dreams about for months and constantly stealing looks when he thought she didn’t notice. “You gonna cum for me, baby? That’s it, keep going, I won’t stop until you do.”

She wondered how he could act so cordial now. 

She didn’t forget any moment of that night. How they took shots together from a nearly failed mission, how they argued over comics, how they fought or threw their jackets at each other. How during their fake fight, he picked her up by her legs, slamming her into the couch. How easily he moved her around, how huge he was in comparison. How his arms felt on her body. How she swore she could totally beat his ass and how they had to fight- she just wanted him to put his hands on her for some reason, badly. How he had opened up to her in such a way she hadn’t seen before. How she noticed that night how incredibly handsome his smile was, or how his eyes gleamed in an almost squint when he laughed. How Dick had teased him for fighting with her. How when the party got louder and they kept talking and stumbling into each other, giggling and pushing each other into walls. Or how she’d pulled him into the bathroom and almost immediately were kissing, pressing into each other’s bodies like they’d been together for years. How the next day they couldn’t even look at each other. 

“Why don’t you start by organizing your sources? I can help with the interviews,” he said, snapping her out of her day dream. “You’re really gonna help me?” “Don’t think you could do it without me,” he smiled, something she didn’t catch him doing often. 

After a solid thirty minutes of reading, she realized she was going in circles. Each part of the overlapping case study was drowned out by the wretched banter of her memories. It felt impossible to not steal glances at him. Ever so often she would feel eyes on her and she would let him stare- moments at a time felt like minutes, they traded glances awkwardly.  She watched him as he intensely scrolled on the spare laptop, taking physical notes in one of her journals. His fist propping up his head as he wrote, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Recently, she started to notice how handsome he was. How the intensity of his personality took over his dark features in contrast to that pretty smile he gave when he was drinking the other night. He looked up at her, catching her stare red handed and she smiled. “How’s it coming?” She asked. She felt flustered and nervous, unable to diminish the little smiles that came to her face as she took glances at him. He closed the notebook and stretched his hands into the air, lifting his black shirt to reveal some of his stomach. “I should be asking you that,” he said in a yawn. “What’s the matter? Still can’t focus?” He asked. She shook her head no. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she muttered with an awkward laugh, turning back to her computer. She knew exactly what was wrong with her- and so did he. 

“Lemme’ see,” He said, sliding past her to her computer. Now they were dangerously close- his arm going underneath hers to reach her keyboard, their hands brushing against one another so he could move the mouse. They stayed like this for a few minutes, slowly getting closer to one another, his broad shoulders near her face. Gently, she placed her temple against his shoulder, scooting closer to him. She noticed him stop typing, the silence in the room drowned out by her laptop’s fans thudding every now and then. Snapping his concentration once more and putting him more on edge than he thought she could, “Do you wanna sit?” She asked. “We can sit together,” she was being bold.

 For ignoring his existence for almost two weeks, she had an awful lot of forced confidence. That whiplash scarred him, made his stomach turn, assuming he heard her incorrectly. He thought maybe he came off too strong that night, in the bathroom- perhaps it was the way he talked to her while he fucked her. Maybe it threw her off, perhaps he said too much. He was a passionate man and she had gotten a hold of him at the height of his yearning. She wanted to be close to him again- even if not in the same way, to be engulfed by his arms might be enough to help her focus. He agreed with great hesitation, feeling flustered and unlike himself. It wasn’t often when he felt put on edge, and everything about her was making something in him tick. Her soft touches, whatever perfume or shampoo she used, her quiet hums while she tried to work. He almost resented her for making him feel so self conscious. 

Watching her sit down into his lap, biting down on his tongue. For two weeks, ever since that night, he’d been trying to suppress the feelings that got worse with time. Confusion, anxiety, yearning for her all over again. He had a whiplash that he couldn’t lick to heal like other wounds. Approaching her was incredibly difficult, especially since she’d disappear whenever he came around. Months of dreaming about her in those positions were taken to reality and he savored every moment of licking up her body and taking her over and over again- but when he had felt that coldness from her, he wished he hadn’t even been there that night. He would have rather suffered in silence longer than for her to not talk to him. The night of the party was an accident, sure, but not a bad one- just not one he would’ve expected. Not one he knew how to confront properly. How could he be around her and act like nothing happened that night, when he had to cover her mouth to not let veracious moans leak out of the bathroom? Neither of them expected it to get to that point. He didn’t know where it came from. He had a certain amount of self control, self control that was tested- self control that failed with every racking thrust he slammed into her. He thought about it almost every minute of every day, slamming inside of her and grabbing her hair, the way she moaned and sighed in appreciation- the way his name rolled off her tongue like an orgasm building up in his body-

He had to stop thinking about it. He could feel an erection press his sweats and he huffed, moving her away from his crotch with ease. What was he doing here anyway? He wanted to talk to her- he’s wanted to since it happened- but it was too much to confront. Everytime he even got near her he could sense her discomfort. Dick asked him about her several times after that night. “Everybody knew you guys were flirting. You were body slamming her into the couch and twirling her around, and then you guys disappeared for an hour-” He was nervous, maybe even scared of her emotions, not knowing if she resented him for that night. But the way she was leaning back for comfortability against his chest, and the way she held onto his free arm so innocently, he sincerely doubted it now. With an arm wrapped around her waist, she moved back to the center of his lap. 

Maybe they would just never bring it up, he thought. Maybe they’ll just keep moving forward and with disdain or limerence for one another. He didn’t wanna do this every couple of weeks without talking to her in between, or having to pretend a part of him wasn’t deeply infatuated by her. He felt her shift and he could’ve let out a whimper- he had a feeling she knew what he was doing and it was torturing him. A hand fell to her thigh. He traced it a bit, as if it were casual- he was beginning to get light headed. She wore a skirt and thigh highs, so he played with the elasticity of her socks, snapping them onto her skin gently. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his heart pounding like it was his first time. From over her shoulder, He looked at her thighs. He remembered that night, spreading them apart and pounding her. He buried his face into her neck, his member twitching from the memory, her smell, her ass pressing and shifting on him. He knew she could feel it and now he wanted to ask her all of those questions he had asked that same night while he had her on the sink.

 His hands slid down her thigh, squeezing them firmly, lightly parting them over his knees. She hummed. It was rather meak and it made him nervous with excitement. “Hmm?” He asked. “You’re distracting me,” she told him. Not like she didn’t enjoy it. 

“Excuses,” he mumbled into her neck. “What you need to do is focus.” He said, traveling further up her body. Bold, very bold. She could feel tightness in her stomach and her face flush with heat. “I’m trying,” she stuttered out as he explored more coverage of her thigh. His fingers traced her flesh, drawing closer and closer to her skirt. “Good,” he huffed. “Keep going.” His voice was more gentle than it usually was, slower and muffled into her shoulder. He watched as she organized her work, skipping through her case file and summarizing the prompt questions. His hands met her panties and her entire body tensed, he watched as she began to mistype on her keyboard and fumble with commands. Through the cloth of her panties, he felt damp fabric as he slid down her slit, coming back up and making full circles around her clit with his other hand squeezing her thigh. He held her thighs open with his own, fully spread out, only covered by the cloth of her skirt. She whined, hummed, mumbled his name, shifted against his stiff erection. “Why’d you stop typing?” He asked, his fingers in locomotion. She whined through closed lips, thighs twitching and tensing against his own. “Jason- It feels good-” “You’re gonna get in trouble if you don’t finish that work, girl.” He taunted her, quick but heavy moans escaping her lips. “Keep goin’,” he demanded. She did as she was told, trying to write sentences through a building orgasm. He could feel it from the way her thighs tensed and how her back arched that she was close. He wanted to give it to her so badly it made him ache, make her cum over and over again- he didn’t know if it was right, if they could be friends after this. He didn’t know if he could watch her act like he didn’t do these things to her after it was over. Was this worth whatever relationship they had left? Even as he contemplated it, his hands couldn’t stop roaming. He couldn’t fake it- he couldn’t act like he didn’t want her and he wouldn’t, either. He watched as she struggled to type and flip through files on her computer. “Good job, baby. You’re being sucha’ good girl.” He kissed her ears as she let out a soft moan, slipping his free hand up her loose fitted shirt, going under her bra. “Jason- I’m-” “Keep saying it, say my name again,” the friction of their clothes were making him raw with desperation, bucking his hips up as she melted onto him. He felt her tense up, longer than before, letting out a sigh of his name, gripping the sides of the chair and the mouse. He continued to touch the fabric covering her swollen clit, letting her ride out her orgasm as he kissed her face. The way she moaned and moved around in his lap could make anyone fall in love, he thought. That was dangerous. She was pressed completely into his back, humming his name, touching his face with her soft hands. He brought his fingers back to that sweet spot, making her finish even faster the second time. He could feel the dampness on her thighs, sweating onto his pants and he hadn’t even fingered her. 

He stood up, holding her by her waist as he did so, bending her back over the keyboard. “Keep working, baby. Don’t mind me, okay?” He kissed the sides of her face while he was pressed against her back. She heard his sweatpants shift as she worked his boxers. She tried to look back but he grabbed her face, pushing it down into the screen. “Work,” he ordered, more intensely this time. With her bent over her keyboard, her lifted skirt exposed her thin panties, working them halfway down her thighs. He removed his member from his boxers, precum staining his clothes and dripping from the tip. “What are you working on now, baby?” He asked. His voice made knots in her stomach as she tried to flip through pages and explain what she was doing. Her mouth parted to speak but was interrupted as his erection poked through her thighs, rubbing against her leaking mess. He had a strong grip on her ass, moving her hips back and forth on his cock, watching the gleam from her soaked cunt make noises. He moved slowly and with ease, her thighs were soaked from his teasing. “T- I’m- I’m working- Trying to-” He gave her ass a firm slap. “Speak up,” he groaned. His cock ached with every sliding motion, he could probably cum himself but he held back, satiating every movement. “The introduction- to my- my um..,” she panted. He laughed as she scrambled through her moans. “Please, Jason?” He hummed in appreciation. He kept working his dick back and forth against her slit, pushing himself faster each time from pure bliss. Now he was a moaning mess, low groans he tried to silence as he fucked her thighs. “Keep working,” he huffed. “You still have so much to do. You’ve been waking up late every day for classes, and you expect me to let you get away with that?” He watched as she cried, trying to type and retain information. Her brain, too distracted by his aching cock pleasing himself between her. She wanted to protest, to blame him for not waking her up like she’d gotten used to. So spoiled of her. Firmly she squeezed her thighs, earning a moan from his parted lips, stroking her hair with his free hand and tightly gripping it. With a quick gasp, he pulled her face back, kissing her gently. “I missed you,” he mumbled into her mouth. She almost didn’t hear him but she spoke through his moaning kisses when it registered. “I missed you so much, Jason,” he was now squeezing her breasts and rocking against her hips, steady moans he didn’t care to suppress anymore. “I thought about you everyday,” he admitted. “I thought about you in every single way.” He moaned, bending to kiss the back of her shoulders, trailing down her neck to the sensitivity of her spine. His words earned a yearning cry from her, and the part that wasn’t enjoying every engulfing moan of hers felt a slight dread about their future. As he kissed her shoulders, he wondered if she would come back to him after this. If they would be able to be normal like how it was before. Her back arched from the sweetness of his lips as he ran his hands underneath her clothes. Great, he thought. Go ahead and say a bunch of sweet shit to the girl you won’t talk to for the next month.

Pulling out his soaked member from her thighs, with ease, he pushed himself into her. Honest, drawn moans escaped their lips, saliva trailing from their lips as they departed. He grabbed her hips, forcing her down into the keyboard once more, taking in every part of her soaked cunt and moaning her name. She shifted, struggled against his hips, his length believably long for a man of his stature- something she was not used to. “C’mon, baby. Take it for me, like before,” He cooed, keeping his hand firm on her back as he fucked her, louder, sloppier moans of pain and pleasure from him poking parts of her that had only been reached by him. He was so different when they had sex, she had realized. So sweet and affectionate, intensely passionate and loving. Meekly she reached her hand to his hip, stopping his motion momentarily- he chuckled, grabbing ahold of the hand and holding it to her back. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” He asked through thrusts that made her unable to form words.  “Jason- feels so good, it’s so much,” she stuttered out, rocking her hips slowly. He grabbed her other arm, holding her back like a pair of handcuffs as his breathing hitched.

 “Oh yeah?” He asked. “You want me to keep going?” He said, slowing his thrusts. Her hips rocked promptly against his throbbing member, “please, please don’t stop,” she mumbled, her face now down into the coldness of the Wayne manor’s library desk. “No problem, sweetheart,” he spoke with confidence, picking up his speed, giving her no time to adjust. Fucking her almost senselessly, her moans now cries as his mercy ran thin. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t slow down, mindlessly knocking over her book bag and other school supplies as he broke into her. His pace was rapid and without any consideration of how she was going to sit down for the next few days. Slamming a hand down onto the table for added pressure while still restraining her, “-Tell me how much you enjoy this,” he panted, watching her struggle against him as her ass bounced against him every time he plunged into her. Her words were melted ice cream, scrambled word vomit, he fucked her so hard she could barely manage to spit anything but the word Jason out, which she mumbled with each thrust- and it drove him over the edge. “Tell me how much you missed this feeling, tell me how much you missed me,” he spat, grabbing her hair and forcing her face up. He looked at her with sincere need- not just a sexual one. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you Jason,” she confessed through stutters. It made him smile, a sweet, almost drunken smile as he laughed through huffs of pleasure. “So good for me,” he said through kisses. Her stomach fluttered from a softness she’d only seen once before in him. 

He picked up her leg, throwing it on the table to make sure he fucked her thoroughly enough to get his point across. With her arms now free, she grabbed onto the table for dear life, biting her tongue from letting out a scream she knew someone would hear from above the floorboards. They didn’t need Alfred coming in to check on if someone was getting murdered down here. Holding one leg up as he pounded into her, his breathing racking from every thrust that brought him closer to satisfaction, he grabbed a fistfull of her hair. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow, right?” The question threw her off guard, her moaning dimming as she tried to piece the words together. The grip on her hair tightened and she winced. “You’re not gonna ignore me after I fucked you this good?” He asked, getting closer to her ear, making sure he heard her right. “Because,” he panted as his hips bucked further into her, the grip on her elevated leg almost bruising. “I’m gonna fuck you like this every chance that I get.” The words edged her, he felt her body tensing, aching for release as he picked up his pace. “You don’t have a choice- me ‘nd you- we’re gonna do this a lot more.” He felt her cumming, squeezing around him, her back arching as he muttered filth into her ear, indescribable moans and thank you’s. “Don’t thank me yet,” he told her. “You’re not getting rid of me, girl. Try to ignore me again. You won’t forget how much I made you cum. You won’t forget how good I fucked you.” Her face felt hot and so did her entire body, more of a promise than a threat and she was fine with that. “I won’t forget,” she repeated as he kissed the lobe of her ear.  His chest now pressed against her back with a hand around her throat, “You’re mine. You’re all mine. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that- everyday,” She felt herself cumming again as he beat into every corner of her walls, nodding profusely. “I’m all yours, Jay,” she whimpered. “Thank you- thank you-” She forced, her entire body squirming under pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked. “Inside of me, please,” desperate and filled with need. “You want me to fill you up, princess?” She nodded, begging. “Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her face to his, eyes interlocking. “-Need to see that pretty face when I cum-” It was less of a demand and more of his own whimpering pleading. His hips bucked one last time into her, her mouth open for a kiss as she watched him finish, a range of emotion hitting his face as he tightened the grip on her leg, stroking her face with his free palm. It was incredibly hot, she thought, watching his face while he came.

 He pulled out with a sharp gasp. He bent over, kissing her exposed ass before pulling up her panties and fixing her skirt, fixing his own clothes afterwards. He grabbed a hold of her, sitting back down into the chair, stroking her hair and giving her small pecks on her face. With a sigh of content, he kissed her temple. “Alright, baby. Can you focus now for me?”

Meanwhile, upstairs. 

“Alfred,” Dick interrupted as Alfred tried for the door. “Why don’t you ever hangout with me anymore?” Alfred raised his eyebrow at the young man he practically raised in front of him. “Master Dick, whatever do you mean? Is our spare time spent with one another inefficient?” “Yes, right now it is,” Dick said with crossed arms. “We could be hanging out, right now.” “Sounds lovely. I just need to check the library-” “So, you don’t like me anymore?” Dick huffed, covering his face. “Can’t we go make cookies? Please?” Alfred sighed. “Master Dick, is there something wrong?’ “Yes, Alfred, there actually is.” Alfred raised his brow once again. “But if you bake with me right now, there won’t be. And I will be much happier.” “Is there something going on downstairs you don’t want me to know about?” Alfred asked with a concerned look. Maybe he didn’t want to know. “I think we should make sugar cookies this time,” Dick said with a grin, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder and leading him away from a now closed door.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Colby is readers fake date to a wedding

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, reader has a bridezilla for a sister, fake dating, hair pulling, fingering, cute pet names, unprotected slightly drunken sex, filthy

Word count: 5.6k | not edited

Not a request

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You'll be at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, right?" Your mother asks, causing your, bride to be, sister's head to perk up.

"Yes, mom. I'll be there." You close your laptop, leaning back against the couch, "What time again?"

"How do you-"

Your mom cuts your sister off, "It's at six, but try to be there no later than five thirty."

"Do you have a date?" Your sister asks turning towards you, "Because I want it to be an even number, you know." You take a slow, almost silent breath.

You didn't want to lie, but you also didn't want to sit and be ridiculed by your bridezilla sister, so you did what you had to.

You lied.

"Yes, Clara. I have a frickin date, now would you just-"

"You do?" Your mother and sister both say at the same time, both slightly shocked.

"Yeah." You stand up, tucking your laptop between your arm and side, "I haven't said anything because it's new and I don't want you guys scaring him off."

"We won't." Clara says getting up, "Who is it?"

"You'll know when we come to the rehearsal dinner." You look at her, and she smirks, "Is this guy even real? You've been know for making up fake boyfriends before."

"I was seven, Clara. Would you let that go!?" You walk away from her, "Please.." you stop, turning around, "Just please.. don't ruin this for me."

"Why would I ruin it for you? It's my day. If anything shouldn't ruin anything it's you for me." Her words instantly piss you off, "Alright. I'm going to leave now before I-"

"We'll see you Friday, honey." Your mom cuts in, walking over. She lowers her voice as you make it to the front door, "You know how she is, y/n. You grew up with her for heavens sake."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah I was kind of hoping she'd grow out of her bratty personality but I guess we all don't get what we wish for."

Your mom kisses your head, "I know. But you'll understand one day." She smiles slightly, "I'm excited to meet this mystery man."

Yeah, me too, you think, "I'm sure he'll be excited to meet you guys." You smile, "Alright, I'll see you Friday. Love you."

"Love you. Drive careful." Your mom says before watching you walk down to your car. You get in, turning the car on and your mind instantly starts to race.

Who is going to be your secret mystery man?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The next day, after an hour of scouring Tinder for someone who could potentially want to platonically join you for a wedding, there's a knock on your door.

You toss your phone down as you stand up, walking over to open your door.

In your mind, you thought it was probably just your sister coming over with another rule or more questions, but to your surprise, it's Colby.

"Oh my god." You gasp, practically jumping into his arms, "When did you get back?!" He walks into your apartment, arms still around your waist, "This morning."

"How was your trip?" You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning back to look up at him, "I didn't think you'd be back for another week or so."

He turns to shut your door, "Yeah, so did we. Our plans got cut short and honestly Sam and I both agreed that we didn't want to get arrested again so we skipped out on the abandoned school."

You laugh, shaking your head, "I wouldn't have liked that phone call, but I mean, at the same time it might have gotten me out of going to my sister's stupid wedding."

Colby raises his brows, "Oh yeah." He frowns slightly, "That is this weekend isn't it."

You lean on the counter, nodding your head slowly, "Yep, and I am absolutely dreading it."

"Why? Isn't everything pretty much done?" He leans against the counter across from you and you laugh, "Everything on their end, yes. My end, not so much."

"What do you mean?" Colby asks and you can feel your face heating up from embarrassment, "Well.. um." Colby laughs slightly, "Come on, y/n. Tell me."

"Clara wants all the guests to bring a plus one." You start out and Colby nods, "okay?" You sigh, "And me.. being the loner that I am, don't have one and to make a long story short-"

"You told them you did when you really didn't just go get them off your back?" Colby finishes your sentence and you look at him kind of shocked, "Y-yeah. That."

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head before looking at you, "Do I know you? Or do I know you?"

"You know me." You smile, "So I've been on Tinder scouring the options for someone who would remotely se-"

"No." Colby cuts you off again, "You don't need to use that. You can't trust anyone on there." He shakes his head, "I'm back early. I'll go with you."

"What?" You laugh slightly, "Really?"

He nods, "Well yeah, you can trust me and you need a date, and I'm available, so." He smiles up at you, "What do you say? Can I be your date to this wedding?"

You smile, tilting your head, "I would love for you to be my date to this wedding."

Colby stays for a little bit longer, you fill him in on the dress code, what the menu is, and everything else involving Clara's strict rules.

"Are you okay with staying in a hotel Friday into Saturday, possibly Saturday into Sunday? Depending on how the night goes and how drunk I get to avoid my snobby family."

He laughs, "You had me at open bar, so I figured we'd be staying somewhere."

"Glad you picked up on that already." You laugh, letting out a sigh, "I have to go pick up my dress. Clara insists that guests wear Navy blue or black and her bridesmaids are in a pale, dusty pink color." You roll your eyes and Colby tilts his head, "I don't know, I think navy blue will look good on you."

You shrug, "We'll see."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It honestly wasn't weird that you and Colby were going to a wedding together. You and him have been good friends for so long, and honestly, it feels right.

You can trust him. He won't push anything on you that you don't want. He knows enough about your family because he's who you constantly bitch to.

He's your best friend, as you are his.

It was totally platonic.

Or so you both thought.

Colby was going to be there any minute and you can feel your heart gradually thumping harder the closer the time got to his arrival.

"Shit." You huff, looking at your back in the mirror at the bow that is lopsided and definitely not up to par for tonight's event.

There's a knock on the door and you hurry out, heels clicking against the hardwood floor until you stop at the door, "Hey."

"Wow." Colby nods as he walks in, "I was right."

"Right about what?" You say as you turn to face him from closing the door. He motions to your dress, "Navy blue looks good on you."

You smile, "Thank you. Can you tie this for me?" You turn around and Colby steps towards you, "Let me guess, it has to be perfect?"

You laugh, "Yes sir, it does."

You feel the strings pull against your skin, "Alright. Let me know how I did." You nod and walk back into your room, turning to look at the bow in the mirror, "Better than I could have done."

You grab your suitcase, containing your other dress for the actual wedding and comfy clothes for after, "Alright." You sigh looking up at him, "Let's do this."

"You have an hour and a half to collect yourself, y/n." He chuckles as he takes your bag, "I think everything will be fine."

You raise your brows, making sure you have everything before you walk out, "that's not enough, Colby. You know that. There's a reason you've never met them."

"Do you think they'll like me?" He presses the elevator button before looking at you. You smirk slightly, "You're a successful YouTuber with awards, I don't think you have any worry."

He nods, laughing as you both step onto the elevator, "If that's all it'll take."

"Trust me, once I tell them who you are, they're going to try and steal you every chance they get." You look over at him, "My mom will want to know all about the ghostly other side."

"I'll be happy to inform them." He smiles and you shake your head, "You don't have to. I know you do that stuff on the daily, so it's totally okay for you to say no."

He chuckles, "Well just take it one step at a time."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The car ride consisted of you and Colby giving your do's and don't's, and to be honest.. There isn't much either of you listed in the don't category.

Colby pulls into the parking spot outside of the restaurant, "You got this." He looks over at you, "If it gets, too bad, but focus on me. I got you."

You smile, "Thank you for doing this."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you didn't have to come with a random asshole." He laughs, "You ready?"

You look forward, taking a deep breath as you see your mom and dad walk in, "I don't have a choice.. so.." you look back over at him, "Let's go."

He gets out, walking over to your door and opening it up, "You'll be fine." He closes your door, turning to wrap his arm around your waist, "I promise."

You smile, wrapping your arm around his waist, "I owe you, big time for this."

"I'm sure we can come up with something." He smiles as he opens the door, allowing you to walk in first, "Where do we go?"

You nod towards the side, "I think there in a priva-"

"Hello, are you here for the y/l/n-Marris rehearsal dinner?" The host asks and you nod, "Yes, we are." He nods, "Follow me this way."

He leads you to the side and your hand searches for Colby's, squeezing nervously as you grow closer to facing your family, "Right in here."

The host motions in and you nod. Colby gives him a quick 'thank you' before walking in.

"There she is!" Your mom says standing up, walking over to be the first one to greet you, "How was the drive?"

You hug her, "It was good. Mom." You motion to Colby, "This is Colby. Colby, this is my mom, Heather."

"It's so nice to finally meet you." Your mom says laying a hand on his shoulder. Clara walks up, "So he isn't a made up boyfriend like before. I honestly can say that I'm surprised, y/n."

Clara smirks at you before reaching her hand out to take Colby's, "I'm Clara. The bride to be. Thank you so much for coming."

Colby glances at you and you raise your brows. He looks back to her, "Yes, congratulations. I'm Colby."

She squints, "Wait. Is your last name Brock?"

"Clara." You sigh, "Let's not make it-"

"No, babe. It's okay." Colby winks, "Yes, my last name is brock." Clara's mouth drops, "No frickin way, mom." She looks to Heather and points to Colby, "This is Colby, from Sam and Colby. The ones that Cash watch on YouTube."

"The ghost hunters?" Your mom raises her brows, "Oh he's going to have a cow."

You laugh, moving to Colby's side, "He just got back from two week trip over seas, can we please just treat him like a regular person please."

"Fine, for now. But I have a few questions." Your mom laughs as she points to Colby and you whisper, "Told ya."

He chuckles and nods, "Yes. Find me later. I'll be happy to talk to you." You smile, staring at Clara, "Come on, honey. Let's go find our seats."

Colby walks with you to the table, and holds your chair as you sit down. You look over at him as he sits down, giving him a smile, "So far so good."

He smiles and nods, "Agreed."

"Y/n."

You look up, "Hi dad." You smile, "This is Colby."

Colby stands up, reaching to shake his hand, "Hello, Mr. Y/l/n. How are you?" Your dad raises the glass in his hand, "Good now that I got one of these. Would you like one?"

Colby shakes his head, "No sir, I'm fine. Thank you."

Your dad nods, "So I hear your this Colby Brock? What's all the fuss about?"

Colby chuckles, "Oh. That." He nods, "I do a YouTube channel with my best friend from back home and we do paranormal investigations."

"Is that right?" Your dad tilts his head, "Do you make a living off of it?"

You stand up, "Dad."

"It's okay." Colby looks at you, "Um yeah. We're pretty successful with it. We have over eleven million followers on YouTube alone and we've won a teen choice award."

"Well I'll be damned." Your dad chuckles, "That's more than asshat McGee over there can say."

You laugh slightly, "Dad, be nice."

Your dad chuckles, "Sorry. I just.." he leans in to Colby, "I cannot stand Daniel. He's all looks, no brain. But you.." he lays a hand on Colby's shoulder, "I like you. You got your head on straight and you've amazed me in less than five minutes. I hope you stick around."

You can feel your cheeks warming up, "Okay dad. I think they're getting ready to start." Your dad smiles, "I'll be back don't you worry."

Colby nods, "I'll be here, sir." Your dad nods and turns to walk over to your mom before you and Colby sit back down, "Well." You lean in, "You got the approval from both of my parents in a matter of minutes, so that's a good thing."

"We got this in the bag, baby." Colby laughs and you smile, gaze still lurking on him after he looks away.

The clinking of forks on glass snap you out of your stare and you look away from Colby, picking up your slim Champagne glass.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"I can't believe how well that worked out." You say as you walk into the hotel room. Colby follows behind you, closing the door, "I told you everything would be okay."

"You know, my dad probably wasn't kidding when he said he liked you more than my sisters fiancé." You sit on the bed, slipping off your heels.

"Really? I guess he never really did elaborate on that." Colby chuckles as he loosens his tie, "Is he an asshole or something?"

You shrug, "I mean, yes and no. He is great to my sister, but at the same time, just the way he is and shit. He owns a company so his head swells, I guess."

"Mm. Yeah I've met people like that." Colby sits next to you, "Do you want the shower first?" You let out a sigh, "Yeah, I guess I can go first." You stand up, "Can you untie me."

Colby smirks as he reaches up, pulling the skinny string to loses your dress, "There ya be."

"Thank you." You smile at him before you walk towards the bathroom.

After your shower, you throw on one of the robes they have hanging on the wall and walk out, "All yours, Colbs."

He gets up. Unbuttoning his shirt as he walks towards the bathroom. You sit down on the bed, pulling your suitcase over. You rummage through, pulling out a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt.

Once you heard the water run, you stand up to shrugging off the top of your robe. You slip your shirt on before slipping on your shorts. You lay the robe down, sitting back down on the bed and switching the tv on.

A little while later, Colby walks out, "They really went all out with the hotel choice, didn't they?" He runs the towel over his hair and you look over at him, "Oh yeah. Everything has to be perfect for little Miss Priss."

Colby laughs, sitting down on the bed, "Why is she like that?"

"She's the baby of the family. Always got what she wanted growing up. She wasn't pushed to be perfect. She was born perfect." You laugh slightly, "I love her to death, but she is so annoying at times."

"I only have a brother, so I don't know what it's like to have sisters, so. I can't really offer any advice on that."

You scoff, "Lucky you."

"Alright. So enough yapping about that. Let's talk about tomorrow." Colby moves up next to you, laying on his side to face you, "I know we talked in the car a bit, but that was mainly for tonight."

"Tomorrow is going to be filled with a bunch of rich bitch snobs. So we have to be on our a game, they'll pick up apart if they get even the slightest whiff of us pretending to be together." You look at him, "It's going to be a lot, on us."

He shrugs, "I have no issue going all out."

You smile, shaking your head, "Neither do I."

"Well that was easy." He chuckles moving up to get under the covers, "I'm glad we're on that level to where nothing really can bother us."

You lay back, facing him, "I know. I honestly feel bad that I didn't think of you first."

"No one knew we'd be back a week early, so don't beat yourself up over that." He reaches over, brushing hair in your face.

You and Colby have had rumors started that you were dating, more than once, but you guys always shot them down because it's was just strictly platonic between the two or you.

Key word, was.

"Yeah, kinda wish you guys got arrested so I didn't have to go to this. I could be on a beach somewhere, but instead-"

"You're stuck here with me. I know. It's awful." Colby smirks and you roll your eyes, "Oh yeah. The worst." You laugh, "Alright. We better get some sleep because if I show up with bags under my eyes tomorrow, it won't be good."

He nods, "Alright." He pauses, looking down at the blanket for a few seconds before rolling over to switch off the light, "Goodnight."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You feel a hand gently shaking you and hear a quiet, "Y/n. Hey."

"Hmm." You go to roll over but Colby's hand stops you, "We never set an alarm." Your eyes go wide, "Fuck." You sit up, looking directly at him, "What time is it?"

"Almost nine thirty."

You kick the blankets off, "Shit. We have to be at the place by ten." You pull your dress from your suitcase, you forgot to get it out and hang it up so it's slightly wrinkled.

You start to laugh as you toss your dress on the bed, "I totally forgot to set an alarm." Colby laughs, "Yeah, that was the last thing on my mind."

You nod mumbles a quiet, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Alright, so if you want you can have the bathroom, I'll get dressed out here." Colby pulls his suit off the hanger and you grab your makeup bag, "Okay. We got this."

Colby can tell your frantic about this, he knew you didn't want to get yelled at. He walks over, placing his hands on your cheeks, "Breath, y/n. Don't rush. Just take your time, we'll figure something out."

You nod, "Okay." You take a deep breath, "I'm going to go do my makeup, my hair will just have to get brushed."

"You'll look beautiful either way." He smiles and turns you towards the bathroom, "Now go. Get ready."

About ten minutes later, you walk out, "Okay. Dress." You point to the spaghetti strap midi dress on the bed. Colby nods as you pick it up, "I'll just-"

"You don't have to leave the room, Colby. It's fine." You slip your shirt off over your head and Colby tilts his head slightly before his eyes meet yours, "Nice - I-i mean, yeah. Okay."

You laugh as you slip the dress over your head, pulling down your pajama shorts as the dress falls over your thighs.

You kick your shorts away from your feet and sigh as you smooth out the dress, "Do I look okay?"

"More than okay." He nods, "How do I look?" He poses and you laugh, "You look.." you swallow the words you really want to say, "Very handsome, Colbs."

He smiles, "Thanks." He checks his phone, "Alright, we have ten minutes to be there." He snaps his fingers, "Shoes."

"Fuck. Yes." You grab your heels, hopping towards the door as you slip them on, "Okay. Let's go."

You quickly make your way down the hall to the elevator, cursing it quietly as it feels like it's taking forever, "Oh my god."

Colby chuckles quietly, "I know."

The door dings and opens and you get on, pushing the lobby button repeatedly until the door closes. Colby wraps his arm around your waist, "Deep breathes, babe. You'll be fine."

You nod, what he called you not registering, "Well make it. It'll be fine."

As soon as the doors open, you're quickly making your way out to the car and getting in. Colby starts to drive as you bring up the address for the venue.

"Okay, next street you're going to turn right. Arrival time is nine fifty eight so we're just going to barely make it." You look over at him and back down at your phone.

Colby nods, "They can deal. It's not like we're showing up after the ceremony."

You laugh, "If she would have just made me a bridesmaid this wouldn't have happened."

"Yeah why aren't you?" Colby glances over at you and you sigh, "I'm not as rich as her friends so.”

"That's not a good reason." Colby shakes his head and you nod, "I know. But it's whatever, she just won't be one of mine, if I ever get married."

Colby smirks, "You will."

"How do you know?" You look over at him, wanting him to keep going. He shrugs, "I just know." He winks at you, smiling as he comes to a stop, "Do I turn here?"

You look down, "Um, no. Not this one but the next, turn left and it's straight ahead."

He nods, "Who ever you end up with will be one lucky son of a bitch."

You smile, your cheeks turning a darker pink, "I don't know about all that."

Colby sighs, "I know I'm one lucky son of a bitch, even if I'm just your fake date." He glances over at you and you smile, "Yeah, me too."

He smiles and lifts his finger off the wheel, "We made it."

"Oh good." You let out a sigh of relief, unbuckling as he comes to a stop. You pull out your lipstick from your purse, applying it to your lips as Colby walks around to open your door.

He waits until you're done, taking your hand as you climb out, "Let's go have some fun."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Throughout the ceremony, Colby's hand would be one of two places.

Holding your hand, or resting on your thigh.

You felt giddy and happy.

You haven't ever felt these kind of feelings for Colby before, so you were also really excited that you were this close to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you watched the ending of the ceremony. You caught yourself a few times, daydreaming about what your wedding would be like, and you always imagined it to be Colby.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Everyone starts to stand up and cheer, clapping for the newlyweds. You got up with Colby, clapping and wiping away your tears from your eyes as quick as you can before they strolled down your keys.

"Are you okay?" Colby asks quietly. You nod, "Just because I think my sister's a bitch doesn't mean I'm not happy for her." You laugh slightly and Colby wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him as you sniffle.

You wait to be dismissed before making your way up to the where they have all the tables.

"We are table number nine." You hold up the name card that has Colby's name above yours, "These are so cute."

Colby nods, "They really are."

"Y/n. Colby."

You turn around to see your mom and dad, "Hey, guys." You hug your mom, "Did you make it through without crying?"

She laughs, "Are you kidding me?"

You nod, "Yeah me either."

Your mom looks to Colby, "Don't you look handsome." She leans in, hugging him before your dad shakes his hand, "Good to see you again, son."

Colby smiles, "Great to see you guys. You both look great."

"He's so sweet. I like him a lot." Your mom nudges you and you nod, "Trust me. I do, too." You smile as you look over at Colby and he stares at you, nothing but love in his eyes.

"We're going to go find our seats before they do the entrances." Your mom smiles, "I'll find you later." You nod, "Yes. Please."

Your dad smiles at you and Colby before walking after your mom.

"So. You like me a lot, huh?" Colby teases as he nudges you with his elbow. You roll your eyes, smiling as you nod while looking at the floor, "Can we not talk about this now?"

He laughs, taking your hand in his, "Fine by me." He leads you to the table, sitting down with you. You guys make small talk, mainly about the venue and how the ceremony was beautiful.

"Y/n. Hey." Your older sister, Teresa, comes up. You look up at her, "Hey, T." You look at the boy next to her, "Hey Cash."

"Hi aunt y/n." He smiles and points to Colby, his voice going quiet, "Is that Colby?"

Colby smiles as he looks between you and him, "You must be Cash."

Cash's eyes go wide and he tugs on Teresa's hand, "Mom. He knows my name." She laughs, "Honey, he's saying your aunt, of course he knows your name."

Colby moves his chair out, pulling the other one out, "Do you want to sit down? I have a friend who would like to say hi to you."

He's going to call Sam.

Cash looks at Teresa and she nods. He runs around sitting down in the chair next to Colby, "I watch your show all the time."

Colby chuckles, "Isn't it scary for you?"

Cash shakes his head, "No, well. Sometimes I have to cover my eyes but you guys make me laugh, too."

You look at Teresa and smile as you look back at Colby. He pulls his phone out, "Let me see if I can get-" he pauses as the phone rings and Sam answers on the other end, "Ayo. Whats up, Colby?"

Colby smiles as he sees cash lean over, "I have someone here who would like to say hi." He turns the phone towards Cash and he has a huge smile on his face, "Hi Sam. I'm Cash. Y/n is my auntie."

You laugh slightly as you listen to Sam, "What's up, Cash? Is Colby being nice to you?"

"Dude." Colby says with a laugh, "Of course I am, right buddy?" Cash nods and laughs, "He's so cool."

"Cooler than me right?" Sam asks and Cash looks between everyone and hides his face. Sam laughs, "You can say yes. I definitely think he's cooler than me."

Cash unhides his face, giggling as he nods.

"Alright." Colby cheers, "Fist bump." He holds his fist out and Cash knocks his small fist against Colby's as he continues to giggle.

"Alright, honey. We can come back later. We have to go find our seats, aunt Clara is coming in soon." Teresa says and cash sighs, "Okay, mom."

"Good to meet you, Cash. Thanks for watching our videos." Sam says and Cash nods, waving as he climbs down from the chair.

"Thank you, Colby." Teresa smiles and Colby nods, "No problem at all. We can get some pictures together after everything settles again."

She nods and takes the boys hand, "Say thank you." Cash smiles and gives a small, "Thank you" before walking away with Teresa.

"Have fun you two." Sam laughs and you lean over, flicking him off. He does it back and Colby laughs, "Alright. I think they're coming in. I'll talk to you later."

"Later losers." Sam says with laugh before he hands up. You shake your head, "He so funny." Colby laughs, nodding as he sets his phone down, "He sure is."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk back from the open bar, two drinks in hand, "another one for you." You set a drink in front of Colby and he leans in, "Thank you, baby."

You smile, biting your lip as your eyes move from his lips to his eyes, "You're welcome, baby."

He smirks, pulling his lip between his teeth. He rests his arm on the back of your chair as he leans in closer, "You know.. I kinda don't want to be here anymore."

"Is it that bad?" You giggle slightly and Colby shrugs, "I mean, everything is fine. Prefect even." His hand brushes against your arm, "I don't want to be here anymore because I think we need to talk about what we put off earlier."

He tilts his head as he waits for what he's saying to click in your inebriated mind, "Oh." You raise your brows, "I see."

He drinks the last of the liquid in his glass and stands up, holding his hand out. You copy what he did and lay your hand in his, following him out of the venue.

"We can't drive." You giggle as you jog up to get close to him. You stop at his car and your back is pressed against it, "Who said anything about driving anywhere?"

You smirk, moving slightly so he can open the back door. You sit down, moving backwards as he climbs in after you. He closes the door behind him and you lay your hands on his cheeks, "You and me?"

He nods, "You and me."

His lips meet yours and it's like fireworks go off all around you.

You moan against his lips and he slides a hand up your leg, pushing your dress up. His fingers slip into the thin layer of your panties before dragging them up and down your slit.

"I thought.. we could just be friends.." Colby whispers against your lips before he leans back, "But we can't."

"You're right." You lean forward, kissing him as his fingers slip inside of you. You moan, working to undo his suit jacket before sliding your hands down to undo his belt.

His fingers curl inside of you, and he groans lowly as you palm him through his pants, "Fuck."

He slips his fingers out, moving to push his pants down and you try your best to get your panties off.

He lifts up, pulling them over your one foot before moving to hover his body over yours. He pins his arm under your knee before the tip of his cock rubs against your soaked cunt.

You let out a whimper, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to you. You gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock slides into you.

Your leg tightens around his arm, "F-fuck."

"You feel so fucking good." Colby groans lowly before crashing his lips into yours. His hand slides up, sliding around to tangle his fingers into your hair, "So fucking good."

You moan as he tilts your head back, kissing down your neck. Your hand slides around, gently pulling his hair as his thrusts grow harder.

His hand loosens the grip on your hair, "Fuck, you're going to make me cum."

"O-okay." You nod and he kisses you, "with me, cum with me."

You slide your hand down, applying pressure to your clit as he focuses on his thrusts, "So fucking beautiful." His voice is low, "Can't believe you're mine for real."

You both laugh slightly, which turns to moans as you feel closer than you did a second ago. You add more pressure, whimpering as you throw your head back.

Colby’s hand slides to the back of your head, moving it forward to rest against his forehead, “I fucking love you.”

You whimper, “I love you. I love you.”

The knot in your stomach snaps and you let out a long and slightly loud moan, clenching around him as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Both of you take a second, getting your breaths back to normal.

“You think anyone saw?” You ask with a slight laugh.

Colby shakes his head, “I have tinted windows, not a sound proof car, so the real question is, did anyone hear?”

Your mouth drops slightly as he laughs and you roll your eyes, “Well, I mean. You’re not wrong.” He smirks, reaching down to grab something to clean up with.

You sit up after wiping off, fixing your panties before pulling down your dress, “So now what?” You look up at Colby and he smiles, “First, I get to do this.”

He grabs your chin, leaning in to kiss you. You smile within the kiss and nod, “I could keep doing that.”

“Second.” He leans back, “We go eat some more food so one of us is sober enough to drive back to the hotel because we definitely aren’t done yet.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sorry I’ve been MIA, I hope this wasn’t too shitty.

Let me know how you liked it! Love you all 🖤 thanks for reading!

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

[imaginidol]

Yunho: Table Manners

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you don’t like smut!! As requested, here is another ateez smut fic! I haven’t even finished my ot8 fluff stories and I’m already pumping these out ahead of time! Naughty atiny!! In case you are interested, here is a San ver. smut and a Hongjoong ver. smut and a Mingi ver. smut, Wooyoung ver. smut and jongho ver. Smut. I’ve already gotten another asmuteez request so be on the look out for that if you NEED it *squints suspiciously at you*

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Wooyoung quickly bows his head in your direction, followed by a gentle greeting from the rest of the ATEEZ boys.

Tonight was a special night, as it was the first night Yunho was properly introducing you to his best friends in the world as his official romantic partner.

He had invited his members out to a very nice dinner for the occasion, and everyone had dressed casually elegant.

You, however, looked exceptionally beautiful in your choice of clothing for the occasion: a slim-fitted black halter-maxi dress with a plunging neckline, all of which graciously outlined the alluring curvature of your body. Your hair was pinned in a high ponytail and your sparkling heels complemented the final look well.

It was no secret that you were total eye candy at first sight, and one of Yunho's members in particular had taken special notice as well.

As the night progressed, the initial light conversation turned into full conversations about hobbies, industry gossip, how-we-met stories, and other fun interests.

Wooyoung takes a slow sip of his white wine, turning his attention to you.

"You said you'd want to learn more about recording songs, right?"

"I'd love to, actually," you smile, turning to Yunho. "Will you take me one day?"

Yunho's eyes softened. "I'll bring you this week to studio, if you'd like."

"Thank you! I feel like it would be so fun to see how you guys work!"

"Why don't you record stuff for fun while you're there?" Wooyoung smirks, taking another sip of his wine. "I could show you a few things, too."

"Really?" you smile eagerly, "What about music production, could we try that too?"

Wooyoung nodded, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, eyeing you steadily. "I could definitely do that for you."

"Wooyoung, you're not too buzzed yet, yeah?" Hongjoong says, rubbing his palm against a now half-drunken Wooyoung's neck.

Wooyoung scoffs, shaking his head quietly. "Nah, not yet."

Yunho takes notice of his friend's odd behavior. While he wouldn't be upset if Wooyoung did find you attractive, he was going to be upset if Wooyoung intended to do something about it and passively flirt around you all night long.

"Would you please excuse us," Yunho politely nods towards the rest of his members, pulling his chair back to stand and lightly tapping you on the shoulder.

"Oh?" you look up at your boyfriend and let him wrap his hand around yours as you follow him out to the restroom hallway.

"What's wrong, babe?" you place a hand against Yunho's arm as he turns towards you, his fingers rubbing his eyes in visible annoyance.

"It's nothing that's necessarily your fault, but I don't... I think... I think Wooyoung's got an eye on you, or something like that."

"Wooyoung?" you start giggling, cupping a hand around Yunho's jaw. "Awe, are you getting jealous?"

"Shh, it's not funny," he mutters, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Yunho, I don't think I've ever seen or heard you when you're jealous. I kind of like it," you tease, placing your hands against his chest and leaving a soft kiss against his lips.

"Just don't give him too much attention anymore, alright? I'll deal with him after," he mumbles into your lips. He gently wraps his arms around your waist, not wanting to think about his friend's behavior anymore.

"But, does this mean I can't go to your recording studio anymore?"

Yunho's eyebrows furrow slightly. "Only if you're with me, and you let me show you how things work."

"Oh?" you cock your head to the side, smiling, "So, no Wooyoung?"

Yunho's eyes grow hooded. "You want him to come? What, so you like his attention on you now?"

You shrugged. "I guess I like it when I get attention," you smirk.

Yunho furrows his brows more, studying your expressions carefully.

She's doing it again, he thinks.

"You're doing it again," he mutters out loud.

"What am I doing?" you say, placing your index fingers around his belt loops.

"Don't fuck around with me like that, especially not with Wooyoung," he mumbles in a low grating voice, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Okay, I won't," you smile, "just as long as it means you are giving me all the attention I want."

Yunho's eyes jump from your eyes to your lips, his hands still clutched around your waist. "And what if I don't? Should I get worried?"

You drop your smile quickly as you bring a hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb steadily against his bottom lip. "I'll get it from Wooyoung."

Yunho immediately rams his lips into yours out of pure frustration, shoving your back against the wall.

"Say it again, I fucking dare you," Yunho mutters breathily, digging his fingernails into your ass.

You let out a soft groan as you feel his harsh kisses trace a line from your jaw down your neck, both your hands now gripping his waist.

"If I see you giving him the attention he wants one more time, I'll fuck the shit out of you until you regret it," he hisses.

"Do I... do I have to wait to give him attention for me to get that punishment?" you tease softly, pulling against his belt loops again.

"Fuck it, you're done for," he snarls, looking over his shoulder and locating your next impromptu destination: a janitor's closet.

He quickly pulls you in, shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him before turning his attention back to you.

You feel his strong hands wrap around your back as he slams your body against the wall behind you, making a rattling noise as several custodial objects toppled all over the floor in the process.

You tug at his pants desperately, begging with your fingers for him to take them off.

"Oh, fuck no, you're not getting shit unless you beg me for it," he snarls, slapping your hands away from his belt and unzipping the back of your dress.

You whine in protest, pulling your arms out of your sleeve holes and slipping out of your heels in a few swift motions as Yunho pulls his sleeves up to his elbows.

Yunho lifts a couple fingers to his lips and quickly drenches them in spit before proceeding to glide his hand down your stomach and into your panties.

"Yunho,” you whisper as you feel his fingers find their way onto your clit. He began massaging you gently; kneading strategically against your sensitive happy button as soft moans began escaping your lips.

“You like that, princess?” he mumbles under his breath, soft grunts escaping his lips as he felt you drenching his fingers more and more.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses, scrunching his face in deep pleasure as he felt a boner rising somewhere deep within his pants.

He raises an arm against the wall next to your head and encloses his mouth around yours, keeping his other hand busy rubbing two drenched fingers against your bean. You have one arm wrapped around his shoulder and neck, the other tugging desperately at his arm as you raised one leg around his hips, nudging him to start fingering you.

"You want attention, princess?" he breathes, biting your lip profusely as he followed his fingers down your labia to reach your hole.

"Fuck," you whimper, raising your leg higher in desperation at the feel of Yunho's steady fingers gently teasing your entrance.

"Beg for it," he sneers, his breath hot against your neck as he cravingly bit into your skin.

"Please, finger me already," you whimper, "just please fucking finger me!"

“You’re so fucking needy,” Yunho scoffs, inserting his fingers into you and pulling out steadily, his cock now fully hardened and poking you through his clothed crotch.

Your soft moans being to match the pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you, your hole growing wetter and looser alongside his every rapturing stroke.

"Please, Yunho, fuck me," you achingly plead, shamelessly tugging at his zipper in an attempt to pull it down.

"You're gonna be fucking patient," he growled, seeing as how your itched fingers had managed to thirstily slide their way underneath his boxers.

You pulled down his boxers and out popped his wet, hardened cock. You traced circles around his tip as he kept ramming his fingers in and out of you, ignoring your hungry requests for more.

Suddenly, a devious thought lingered through your mind.

"You know,” you smile, “I bet Wooyoung would've had his cock inside of me already a long fucking time ago," you tease.

That sentence alone is enough to force Yunho to rip his dress shoes, black turtleneck, and pants off his body, desperately fumbling his way out.

You clench your jaw as he lifts your legs off the ground and wraps them around his waist, his hardened member already seeping wet drops of cum at its tip.

"Say... that... again... SAY IT!!" he pants desperately as he begins pushing himself roughly into you, every word coming out of his mouth in unison with each deep thrust. Your loud moans began to fill the otherwise quiet and voided air around you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan loudly, clawing your fingernails deeply into the soft canvas of porcelain-like skin of his back as each intensifying stroke slipped in and out of your pink-fleshed caverna.

--

"They've been gone awhile; do you think they're alright?" Yeosang turns to Hongjoong, taking a sip of his hot tea as quiet jazz tunes play from the ceiling speakers above.

"Hmm," Hongjoong turns toward the end of the restaurant where he last saw you and Yunho disappear. "Don't know."

"Probably arguing, as healthy couples do," Jongho says, taking a bite of fish cake. "Wooyoung, I blame you,” he sneers through a mouthful of food. “Keep your eyes to yourself next time, yeah? It's bro code."

"Right," Hongjoong turns back around thoughtfully, popping some kimchi into his mouth.

--

You slam both hands against the wall as Yunho roughly turns you onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide as he began hitting it from the back.

Yunho's bangs are drenched as tiny drops of sweat splash onto your hot, glossy back, both your bodies growing warmer under the intensifying and sexy heat of friction. With every passing desirous moan and grunt, Yunho thrusts himself deeper into you, bending over to firmly clasp his hands around your hips and then biting profusely into your neck.

Loud moans escape your lips as you're no longer able to keep them in, your body under complete control of the boy masterminding an orchestra of your vocal chords behind you.

Yunho's breathy gasps slowly turn to soft whimpers as his wet, throbbing member slips in and out of your loosened warm, velvety inner walls. He seemingly felt himself on the verge of reaching his limit, but refused to let go until you reached the pleasure you oh-so wonderfully deserved.

"C'mon, baby," Yunho whispers into your ear as you throw your head back into his shoulder, "cum for me already," he whispers gently. At that, he begins fucking you harder and faster, throwing any and all signs of polite and gentle sex out the window.

You fail to hold in a loud, pleasurable groan as your lower abdomen is joyously overwhelmed by the full extortion of your final orgasm, to which Yunho takes the full and pleasurable joy of feeling his throttling member drench completely at your release.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Yunho hisses, sinking his teeth deep into his bottom lip as the sensation of your warmth overwhelms his hot, throbbing member. He pulls out quickly with only seconds of limited time to jerk himself off before a steaming hot jet stream of cum shoots all over your back.

"Fuck," Yunho takes a couples steps back, outstretching his arms to lean against the wall in front of him with you underneath. He leans in gently, lowering his warm body against your back as several of his soft kisses are gently planted against your cheek. The small janitorial closet grew quiet except for the heavy panting in an attempt to catch your breaths. He looked around and only hoped that the custodians of this restaurant would take deep-cleaning requests seriously, and he cursed himself quietly under his breath for the uncanny mess that was left of the small room. He planted one last soft kiss against your shoulder as he stepped back and started shuffling through the storage bins in search of a roll of paper towels.

"Don't move, baby," he muttered, wiping what he could of his mess off your back and in between your legs. He folded the paper towel and with it finished wiping himself down, though he knew that you two wouldn't be fully clean until you managed to take a shower sometime later that night.

"Sorry, baby," he hummed, balancing you on your feet as he helped you pull your dress back on and slip into your heels. "I'll try to find an excuse for us to go home as quickly as possible."

You giggled as you helped your boyfriend dress himself next, leaving a quick, soft kiss against his V-line before pulling his pants up and zipping them shut.

"I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you sigh under your breath, annoyedly pinching your boyfriend's waist as you both awkwardly stepped out of the closet.

"How do I look?" you tiredly smile up to your boyfriend, trying to pat down your hair as best as you could. Streaks of your runny eye makeup and faded lipstick made him giggle softly, a proud trophy he considered after the sinful events of the last twenty minutes.

"You look like you've learned your lesson," he smirks, leaning over to plant a soft kiss against your cheek. He pulls out another paper towel and begins to gently touch up your makeup the best that he could, though with all his best efforts you still looked like you were lawlessly railed without any signs of regret.

"What about me? Do I look presentable?"

You giggled at the sight of his wrinkled shirt and mess of drenched hair, running your fingers through his bangs in an attempt to make him look not-so-guilty of the heinous acts he'd just committed out of distasteful jealousy.

--

"Oh, there you are. We thought you guys had left already," Yeosang smiles as you and Yunho hobbled awkwardly into your seats. You flinched as you sat, still feeling the rawness in your hole where Yunho had recklessly fucked you like it was no one’s immediate business.

"Were you crying?" Jongho says, noticing the smudged residue of mascara and eyeliner that Yunho had failed to completely wipe clean. Yunho takes notice and proceeds to gently pat a napkin against your face.

Yunho smiled assuringly in your direction. “What? No, those are happy tears, you see," he teased, flashing you a pretty grin with perfect teeth.

"Oh? That's good to hear, then," Wooyoung sighed, nudging Jongho's arm. "See? They weren’t arguing.”

Jongho rolls his eyes.

“Anyhow,” Hongjoong continues, turning to face you, "you’re very beautiful and we very much appreciated getting to finally meet you,” he smiles, turning his attention to Yunho next. “She's a real gem, so never forget to treat her right,” he finishes, sending a small wink in your direction.

Yunho squeezed your thigh under the table, turning a gentle smile back in your direction.

"Trust me when I say, taking good care of her is my top priority."

[dcxdpdabbles]

thought: what if jason had the ability to see ghosts but only when tired. so he ends up thinking he’s hallucinating and doesn’t tell anyone because thats tims thing

There is a little girl singing nursery rhythms and spinning in small circles. Now usually, Jason wouldn't find that too out of place. Kids always found the strangest things entertaining.

No, what was strange was that the little girl was floating just above the rails of the stairway. She looks like a poorly edited clip slapped onto the backdrop of the gala he has been dragged to.

She's wearing a red dress and a large bow in her hair that seems to have been stolen from Alice on her way to Wonderland. Her skin had a greenish hue, and a slight glow was coming off her, reminding Jason of a miniature night light.

"Huh," He mumbles, taking another sip of the water he picked up. Bruce is the one who pretends to get sloppy drunk at all the parties, while in comparison, Jason has gained a reputation for never touching alcohol. It says a lot about how powerful the Waynes are if his presence ensures the hosts have other refreshments ready for him.

This means that the little girl is not a drunken hallucination. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

"What is it?" Tim asks to his side. His disgusting CEO smile is still firmly in place, a twist of the lips that belie the hidden tension. Tim would appear relaxed and enjoying the party like any other elite if anyone glanced in their direction. "Trouble?"

The little girl is sticking her tongue out at some teenagers heading her way. She's not doing anything but making faces at random guests that walk by. "I don't think so."

"What is it then?"

Jason had a choice here. He could mention the little girl, but that would mean admitting he could see her. Based on the way, literally, no one is reacting; he's the only one that can.

She's likely another hallucination.

Jason has been getting those since he was young, usually due to a lack of sleep. Just last week, he saw a butcher wandering the streets of Gotham, wearing the highest heels he had ever seen. That had been after the five-day mission with the OutLaws, where he thinks he only had a chance to sleep maybe three times.

He should go home before the little girl starts doing something weird.

Not that he would ever let the rest of the family know, especially Tim. Seeing things that aren't there is Tim's thing, and Jason has teased him too often over the years about it to start admitting he's got the condition too.

He nods his head at the teenagers. Tim turns his body slightly, allowing his gaze to take in what he's looking at without making it obvious he's staring. Apparently, he can't make it known he's interested in someone. Ugh, another rule of high society that Jason will never bother to understand. "I've never seen them before."

He means the two accompany Samatha Manson. He's aware of the inventor's granddaughter, seeing as her family had ties with the Waynes, distant as they may be. It was Waynes who bought the rights to her grandfather's inventions many years ago, and his son was the one that started investing in some smaller shell companies of Waynes, further building the family fortune.

Jason didn't see her often at galas because while the Mansons were wealthy, they were new money. They had no connections, mannerisms, or mindset to be welcomed by the elites.

"Daniel Fenton and Tucker Foley. Foley is in the brown suit, Fenton is the one in the black one." Tim identifies quickly. He probably went over the gala invitation guest list to memorize everyone attending even though it wasn't a gala they were hosting. "Her best friends. Nothing that stands out too much about them except for Fenton. His parents are independent ghost hunters and researchers."

Jason blinks down at this brother. "Ghost hunters?"

Both brothers know how real ghosts can be in their line of work, seeing as Deadman has helped them with some cases before. Still, it's surprising to find civilians who are that close to the undead.

"More Ghostbusters than actual hunters." Tim shrugs when he gets a confused frown. "I looked into them to make sure Fenton over there wouldn't be a danger once in Gotham. His parents' inventions are marketed as ghost-hunting equipment but are authentic weapons. He's been known to show signs of rouge potential behavior."

Jason looks back at the black hair boy who is......talking to the little girl? Or trying to? She is spinning again, floating up to the chandelier, not caring for the teenage boy leaning over the railing towards her as Foley and Manson stand guard. If they trying to be inconspicuous, they are doing a poor job.

Jason spots Damian approaching the trio with a tense set of his shoulders. His youngest brother taps his finger against the glass in his hand in a specific rhythm.

If any of the Bats have seen Damian- which is all of them, given that everyone in the family always keeps an eye on Damian at galas- they have all been told the same message.

Possible jumper.

Granted, without the little girl, it looks like Fenton wants to take a leap over the railing. That's worrying.

Tim proves this by tilting his chin slightly in their direction, shoulders also tense. "Let's go."

Jason follows after Tim, trying his best to not make it obvious they are freaking out about a possible tragedy about to happen. Damian, thankfully, has already reached the teenagers but is stalled by Manson.

He can't hear what she's saying, but she's matching Damian's angry scowl with her own. Seeing the only two goth kids standing off with each other is hilarious.

Damian had told Bruce a few months back that he wanted to try and change his civilian persona a bit and had taken their dad's credit card with Raven to do shopping.

He's come back as a goth, giving Bruce a near heart attack, as Damian changed out all his suits to have a scull somewhere on his person at all times. Jason thought it was the best cover plan the brat could have ever done.

Mason's right eye twitches when she sees them, but other than glaring harshly, she doesn't say anything as they come up to stand behind Damian. Tim is in the perfect place to sludge for Fenton should the boy throw himself over. Jason is to tackle the two teenagers should they try to stop his brother.

"Dude, it's okay. Danny always does that," Foley assures as they finally climb up to them. "He's really into, ugh, parkour."

"It's dangerous," Damian particularly bites. Looks like someone needs more sensitive training.

Fenton stops trying to lean over the rail to glance over his shoulder to Damian. "I'm okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though."

Jason is standing in the prime location to see Damian's haughty expression melt away into startled wonder. He watches a tiny bit of red appear on the cheekbones of his youngest brother, and for a moment, all Jason can think is how much he will have fun teasing the boy later.

Gosh, if he wasn't so tired he would realize he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"He's red like a tomato!" A feminine voice chirps, and he can't help but laugh at the comment. Damian's face is slowly turning redder by the curious head tilt Fenton does in his direction. Cute.

"You got that right, kiddo, so red he's ripe for the picking. " Jason smirks down at his brother, who, for his part, dares to look confused.

"What are you babbling about?" Damian snaps as Tim's intense eyes swing over the boy's head to lock gazes with Jason.

"What the girl said"

"I didn't say anything," Manson denies, and Jason finally realizes he has responded to the little girl, who is grinning ear from ear. Shit.

"Oh." Fenton nods, stepping down the railing to look Jason dead in the eye and smile. "You see dead people."

"Cool, one of us. One of us." Foley chants with a grin, and even Mason seems to relax more, going from irritated to indifferent. The teenager stops his chat when the three brothers fail to find humor.

Danny just smiles near-vacantly, which causes Damian to look hot under the collar.

Maybe Jason should leave to take a nap in the safety of his room because he does not have the time to unpack all of this.

"Maybe we should find Bruce," Tim says after a moment, and that is when the little girl choices to fly right up to Tim and flick his ear. Tim startles so hard he slams into Damian, who loses his footing and falls over. Jason is fast enough to catch him before he rolls down the stairs.

Danny giggles, and for the first time since he's known Damian, he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him hole. What a weird night for Jason.

"What the hell was that?" Tim mumbles, looking around.

Manson grins a sharp, wicked thing. "A ghost"

"Of course it is." Tim sighs then he gives Jason a near-eye glare. "How long have you been able to see ghosts?"

"Honestly? Probably since I was six. I thought they were hallucinations."

"And why did you not tell anyone about having what you thought were lifelong hallucinations?"

"I'm not you. Hallucinations are your weird thing. Mine are guns."

"I like them," Fenton announces, and the other two finally step back. Only then does he come to the startling observation that Manson and Feley had been acting like bodyguards by placing themselves between Fenton and the Waynes?

What a strange night indeed.

"Todd, let me up!"

[rogersideup]

I'd like to drop a prompt:

The avengers have a night off in Las Vegas after a mission. Thor makes sure Cap has his fair share of Asgardian liquor so Steve ends up drunk and wanders off alone. He meets our dear reader who just got dumped by her friend group and is equally drunk. They hit it off and decide to get married. The next morning both of them are confused but decide to make it work as memories of the night before come back to them. (Surprise surprise dear reader is from New York too)

‧₊˚✧⚁⁠♧777♤⚄✧˚₊‧

Steve Rogers X Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Steve gets himself into some trouble while having a night off in the city of sin.

Word Count: 4,717

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

"Miss?"

Flashing lights separated and splayed through the drying tears in your watery eyes, music and ringing from hundreds of slot machines overstimulated your senses as you simultaneously pulled your dress up and down in different places.

"Excuse me miss? Can I get you something to drink?"

Coming back to your senses, you turned around to face the bartender. "Yeah, uh..." really, you tried your hardest to think of something, literally anything to help move along the buzz you were already riding but no proper words made it to your brain. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. Can you just make it strong and fruity?"

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed, already grabbing bottles off the shelf.

Watching him masterfully work helped you zone out and relieved all of your overwhelmed senses. Pouring, shaking, more pouring, a garnish, then a fruity elixir of a bunch of liquids you most definitely could not pronounce was placed right in front of you atop a cocktail napkin. Not a single drop was spilled, even the ice was perfect.

Reaching into your purse, you handed the bartender your card and shouted to try and compete with the volume of drunken gamblers and rolling dice. "You can close the tab."

"Don't worry about it. This one's on the house, you look like you need it." He kindly denied your form of payment.

You chuckled to yourself. "That bad, huh?"

"No, but I know a sad chick when I see one." He noted. "Happens pretty often in Vegas."

"Well, thank you, I appreciate it." You raised the glass. "Cheers to you and all the bartenders making the world go round."

"Amen to that" He smiled before walking off to serve yet another drunken customer.

You sat at the bar on a little leather stool fully contemplating how you ended up in this situation as you looked out into the hotel casino and nursed your drink. It didn't take long for you to realize that the Vegas bartenders didn't take the word strong as a joke. Because every sip stung your throat and swirled your thoughts around in slow motion.

The speed at which your thoughts came at you didn't help the fact that every single one of them revolved around nothing but yourself.

What were you going to do now? Where should you go from here?

Drinking wasn't the answer, but not drinking wasn't the solution. Finding shelter in the Caesars Palace hotel was a good enough temporary fix to your problems, so you ignored that you were on the complete opposite side of the Las Vegas strip that you actually needed to be on.

However, getting to your hotel on the complete opposite side was the problem. Your shitty friends completely ditched you, or maybe you ditched them. The details were all so unclear, but the fact was they were all making stupid choices and you couldn't stand to stick around long enough to see the end results of them.

But now you were all done up in high heels and a small little dress in a city you had never been in before, notorious for sex, drugs and alcohol. Luckily, pepper spray in your purse and a back pocket full of self defense techniques that have been drilled into your head ever since you were a little girl were amongst some of the better choices you made tonight.

Then came along all of the dumber choices you would make tonight in the form of yet another fruity drink, and a tall, blonde man looking painfully confused at the roulette table right in front of you.

He was tall and broad, even more handsome than the massive statues of Roman men all around the hotel. But much like the statues around you, he looked like he was carved from marble. The muscles you could see sculpted through his suit jacket could've only been a result of a piece of fine art.

It was easy to pick up his wholesome sweetness behind his big blue eyes, that also did a lot to tell you how drunk the man was. He towered over the table and watched a few rounds, trying his hardest to understand what was happening. Much like him, you watched the ball spin round and round before landing in a slot.

Some of the players would moan and groan at their fate, while others would cheer happily and exchange loud laughter and high-fives.

Mesmerized by the game, you missed the glances the blonde man snuck of you. He really couldn't help it though. His friends had left him all alone while his capacity to make good decisions was at an all time low, and you were just so pretty and maybe a bit sad.

Another round was about to start, so the dealer started taking bets. Everyone around the table started placing their chips on a color and number, and the blonde was still confused.

He looked around again before his eyes met yours, and a stupid invasive smile smeared across your lips. When he noticed your friendly demeanor, he took a few stumbles over to you.

"Do you have any idea how to play this?" The man asked you.

Now you could smell the expensive yet deliciously pleasant cologne he was wearing, and you could take in all the details of his black suit.

Giggling at his cluelessness, you swallowed down the sip of cocktail in your mouth. "I do. Would you like some help?"

"I'm assuming you have to guess if the ball lands on red or black?" He asked as his lopsided smile and squinted eyes told you everything you needed to know about his sobriety... or lack there of.

"That's exactly it, good job." You nodded. "But you can also guess the number, or a group of numbers it'll land on. The payout at the end is based on how accurate your bet is."

"So what should I bet?" He asked you, having already built a strong sense of trust for you in the few minutes he had been observing.

"Oh no, that's not up to me." You shook your head before taking another sip of your drink. "You gotta trust your own gut."

The man's eyes darted around the table once more before his arms motioned to it. "But look around! All of these men have pretty girls telling them what to do, and that's why they're all winning money. You guys are so much smarter than us, and I'm alone so I need you to tell me. Red or black."

Usually, a statement like that from a man like him would have you rolling your eyes and cutting the conversation short. However, either your gut or the alcohol was telling you that he wasn't an asshole.

For some reason, you felt calm and comfortable in his presence all while being unable to wipe the dumb smile off your face. Something about his hair that was once perfectly styled now being a little jostled, and the twinge of pink in his cheeks made him seem so distantly familiar.

"Well thank you for that backhanded compliment." You laughed. "I think you should bet red."

He nodded, trusting your opinion far more than he trusted himself. "Should I place a more specific bet too?"

You thought for a moment, but you were in Vegas so... fuck it. "Yeah. Give me your chip"

The man happily placed the roulette chip into your hand, you stood up in one big sweep and started walking away from the bar. "Woah, don't leave your drink!"

Pleasantly surprised that he had your best interest in mind, you mumbled out a statement of gratitude as he handed the glass to you too. Approaching the table, looked at it for a few moments and tried your hardest to contemplate the best number to place a bet on, but once again no rational thoughts occupied the empty spaces of your brain.

So, you threw the chip on your favorite number, lucky 25.

"There ya go!" You used your free hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Good luck, Blondie."

"What happens if I win?" He asked you, smiling as you let your hand linger. Even with your highest heels on, you were nowhere near as tall as him.

"Then it's your lucky day, and you'll get a shit ton of money." You giggled at his question.

"And if I lose?"

"Then you're unlucky and you're about to lose some money." You snorted.

"That's not going to happen, you're my good luck charm." He declared.

"I don't think anything about my night tonight is radiating lucky energy, so I doubt that."

"What? No way! I feel like I've been the luckiest guy in the whole world today, so maybe I'm your good luck charm."

"I guess we will let the roulette wheel speak the truth of the universe tonight." You shrugged.

"Should we place our own bets on the bet?" The man asked.

"Like what?" You questioned, hoping this wasn't the moment the sweet stranger turned weird and pervy.

"I think if I lose I should probably call it a night and go back to my room because this is the drunkest I've been in probably 80 years." He stated. However, his words flew over your head figuring his drunken words were exaggerated, and you found yourself to be a little sad that your time with the stranger would be cut short so soon.

"I think if you win, you should stay out for a little while and have another drink with me." You smiled, going way out of your own comfort zone.

If you were sober, or maybe even drunk in a bar anywhere other than Las Vegas, you would've been caught dead before being caught to be so bold. But he was pulling you in faster than you've ever felt, and something about him felt so natural and warm.

"Deal." He agreed.

"Look, they're about to spin the wheel." You pointed at the table.

The dealer spun the wheel, and the ball was moving so fast that you could barely even follow it. Even as it slowed down and started to tease each individual slot, the motion of following the sphere going round and round was quite honestly making you a bit dizzy, so you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

"No way." The blonde stated. "No fucking way!"

His arm wrapped around you from behind and his big warm hands very gently shook the tops of your arms. "Look! It's on red! I can't see the number, but it's on red!"

You giggled and tried your best to keep your balance as he shook you around. When you opened your eyes you could see that the drink in your hand was sloshing around and spilling over onto the impeccably maintained carpet beneath your feet. But the loss of some of your drink was a small price to pay when the dealer picked the ball up out of the wheel and announced "25 Red!"

Simultaneously, you and Blondie let out little screeches in surprise and joy when you realized you had actually placed a winning bet. In all your years on this planet, nothing like this had ever happened to you. You never even won $5 on a penny slot, let alone a fat wad of cash that was being placed into the man's hands.

After the cheering celebration and laughter died down, he turned to you. "See! I knew you were lucky!"

"You trusted your intuition, and you won!" You noted with a smile so big and long lasting it was starting to make your cheeks sore. "Good job."

"Here! This is yours." He placed the wad of cash in your hands.

"What? No. You bet your own money, it's yours." Not being able to accept it, especially when you saw it was all $100 bills.

"No it's yours! You placed the winning bet, you knew the magic number so I want you to have it." He explained kindly. "You said nothing about your night was lucky, so consider this your sign from the universe."

"I can't just accept all of this money from a complete stranger." You denied once more. "You're very sweet, I would feel so guilty taking this from you."

"Fine, if you can't accept the money for yourself, how about we go spend it together?" He offered. "I owe you another drink anyways, then after that the Las Vegas strip is our oyster!"

"That's a little better" You agreed with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."

"O-oh!" The man seemed to be taken back by that statement for a second. A look of momentary confusion furrowed his eyebrows before a happy smile returned to his kind face. "Sorry, I'm Steve!"

You made a small mental note of his initial shock that you asked for his name, but your drunken brain didn't hold onto that for very long.

"Alright Steve, here's the plan." You rocked up on your tippy toes and kept yourself braced with a steady hand on his solid shoulder so he could hear you better in the loud and chaotic environment. "Half my drink just ended up on the floor when you won, so I'm going to order another one. Then after that, I somehow need to end the night at my hotel on the complete opposite end of the strip without getting taken or murdered. So if we can somehow make it from here to there while blowing through that money you just won, then I'd be more than happy to help you spend it."

Steve's eyes went wide in concern at your statement. "Where are you staying?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "My gut is telling me not to tell a strange man where I'm staying."

"Smart girl, but I'm not letting you walk down the strip alone at night. The people here are crazy." He challenged. "No funny business. Pinky promise."

Steve raised his pinky for you with a genuine look of promise and concern on his face. "Do people often trust you to get them to safety?"

His cheeks turned pinker, and he let out an adorable giggle. "Yeah, I think most people find me to be very trustworthy."

"No funny business." You lifted your hand and wrapped your pinky around his with a quick handshake. "I'm staying at New York, New York."

"Oh wow, we have a long way to go with lots of chances to blow through that stack." He smiled. "What are you drinking? I'll order you another one."

"Honestly, I have no idea." You admitted, smile coming back to your face.

"Okay great! That helps me a lot" The blonde laughed.

"Excuse me" You politely flagged down the bartender. The same one from earlier coming back, you showed him your glass. "Can I get another one of these please? And whatever he wants?"

You looked to Steve who looked between you and the bartender. "Just two waters please."

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed.

"What? You're not going to have a drink?" You questioned.

He pulled a copper flask out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "I'll drink more, but this is stronger."

"Oh, nothing here is strong enough for you?" You raised a brow, your smile growing just as lopsided as his.

"Nope. This stuff is special, it comes straight from another realm."

Laughing at his joke, as you handed the bartender cash straight from the wad Steve gave you. "That's funny, because I hope this is strong enough to make me feel like I'm no longer in this realm, so cheers to that!"

You and Steve sat at that bar for a solid two hours as conversation topics flew at the two of you unexpectedly fast. Each one new topic was short lived as an enthusiastic response would happily slip off one of your tongues, so excited that the two of you had so much in common.

Then, Steve decided to start the shopping spree. He offered you a hand to help you off the stool, which quickly turned into a protective arm around you, or ushering you the entirety of your time together. He knew that the men on the Vegas strip were pigs, but he underestimated how bad it really was.

But the cat calls, whistles, and lingering eyes were drowned out by the city sounds and the big flashing marquee lights that littered the sides of every building you passed. It was just as mesmerizing as the night before, skipping down the streets in a drunken haze with your best friends.

Now you were mesmerized by not only sin city, but the mysterious man you were following around as if you'd known him your whole life.

With a sense of childlike wonder the two of you ended up in silly places like the M&M's store, and the Coca-Cola store, but you also ventured into more classy designer establishments where you convinced him to buy a lovely new belt at Louis Vuitton.

It looked good, he looked good. You had to work really hard to contain the drool in your mouth as you watched him take off his old belt to replace it with the new one.

He tried to buy you a new bag, but once again you were being stubborn and were having a hard time accepting such a generous offer.

So, you suggested another drink. Just one more.

More sitting and chatting with Steve, you swallowed down the liquid in your cup while he shot the rest of the liquid in his flask.

That last drink was the worst of your poor decision making that night, or so you thought.

Because the last memory you had was sitting at that bar and really admiring him.

The alcohol had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy pink color that somehow made his blue eyes shine even brighter, and add to the wholesome energy you felt radiating from him.

Sweet, silly, carefree, handsome, safe.

Then, you woke up.

Slowly at first. Your eyes opened and the dull pounding at the back of your skull wasn't nearly at bad as you deserved. The air conditioning did wonders keeping you comfortable, the light peaked through the black out curtains, and your belongings scattered across the room confirmed that you were definitely in the right place.

You looked around more. M&m's bag, Louis Vuitton bag... Converse bag? You didn't remember buying shoes. Wait... how did you get here?

Only then did you wake up FAST. You sat up, and your heart pounded as you realized that Blondie was in your bed. The sudden movement made your head pound even harder, but the good news was that he was fully clothed and was sleeping above the covers.

You were also asleep and fully clothed, but both of you were in different clothes than you had on last night. That's probably what those shopping bags in the corner were...

Carefully rolling out of bed to try and make yourself somewhat presentable and aid along trying to process what happened last night, you walked into the bathroom.

Wash your face, brush your teeth, fix your hair.

By the time you came out, Blondie was sitting up in bed with his legs on the floor, shooting you an apologetic look. He was apprehensive, scared to gauge how sick and unenthusiastic you would be by his presence this morning.

"Good morning." He said quietly, voice deep and raspy from inhaling the dry air and residual cigarette smoke.

"Morning." You tried to be polite, clutching the side of your head. "What happened? How did we- how did any of this-"

"Nothing happened." Steve reassured you. "I would never take advantage-"

"Okay, okay." You nodded slowly, feeling slightly relieved. "Advil. I have Advil."

Waking over to the table in the hotel room, you grabbed the bottle of painkillers and a water. You opened both and popped two little pills in your mouth, washing them down with water.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember much either. It's been a really long time since I've gotten drunk. This is really out of the ordinary for me." He explained.

"I guess we're on the same boat then." You agreed with him before a couple pieces of paper catch your eye.

"I guess I should probably go?" Steve stated, but it was more of a question. This was the first time he ever found himself waking up next to a stranger.

"No, you stay right there." You insisted frantically, picking up the piece of paper.

Certificate of marriage.

Your name signed at the bottom next to another signature that read Steven G Rogers.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

You studied the signature, looked at his face, looked at the signature, then his face again.

In the table, there was a picture of the two of you kissing. Him in his suit, you in the dress you wore last night but also a veil.

"Oh my god" You exclaimed, so much information to process.

"What?" Steve questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Oh my god!" You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.

"What happened?"

"You didn't tell me..." You puffed out a breath, then an unexpected giggle left your throat. Of course, this would happen to you the one time in your life you didn't behave like a perfect angel. "Captain America?"

"Oh... Guilty?" Steve's shoulders sunk. "I introduced myself, no?"

"As Steve." You exaggerated.

"Yeah, I'm Steve." He agreed.

"Well, at least I was safe." Finding the benefit of the doubt. "Do you remember getting married last night, Steve?"

You passed the paper and the picture to him, and his face contorted into an expression you couldn't quite read. "...wow."

"Wow?" You questioned. "I unknowingly married Captain America last night and all you have for me is wow?"

"Holy shit." Steve looked up at you.

"That's better." You nodded.

"You don't look panicked" Steve noted.

"I'm not panicked because at least you're a superhero." You explained. "That counts for something right? Like people won't think I'm totally inane for marrying a stranger when they find out it's Captain America? And like... a superhero means you have people who come and clean up after you right? Someone can fix this right?"

You watched the gears turn in his head. "... I have to call Tony."

Tony. Who's Tony? Think. Superhero, avengers, Steve, Captain America. Tony... IRON MAN.

"Stark?" Your eyebrows raised. Steve nodded, pulling out his phone. "Now I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out."

"It's okay, give me a second." Steve said calmly.

You nodded, the remembered you should check your phone too. As he spoke quietly to Tony, you looked around for your phone before finding it on the night stand, flooded with dozens of missed calls and texts from friends wondering where you were. You quickly sent off a text in a group chat saying you'd explain later, and that you were okay.

Eventually Steve ended the call. "He said he'll be here in a minute or two."

"Oh, okay great." You said exaggerating your nonchalance. "No biggie. Iron man coming over to read my marriage certificate to Captain America."

Steve giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "My mother would be over the moon to find out I'm married."

"My mom might have me 6 feet in a grave if she ever finds out about this." You sat back down on the bed next to him.

"When do you leave Vegas?" Steve questioned.

"My flight is at nine tonight. What about you?"

"Flying home at six thirty." He informed you. "Where do you live?"

"New York" You said simply. "Queens."

"We both live in New York and we’re staying in a New York themed hotel? What a small world." Steve noted. "Maybe we don't have to fit in a divorce before this evening."

"I mean... you are very handsome so I definitely wouldn't mind staying married to you for a few days until we get this figured out." You grinned.

A small blush stippled his cheeks at your compliment. “You’re so pretty I would’ve never had the courage to talk to you if I wasn’t drunk.”

Just like him, you blushed at his admission, and giggled at his words. “This doesn’t feel like real life.”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a ring instead of whatever the hell we bought last night.” Steve thought.

You looked down at your left hand, and sure enough, there was a pretty ring on your finger. You lifted it up to show him. “Looks like you were two steps ahead of yourself”

“Oh, good.” He chuckled. “At least there’s that.”

Then, there was a knock at the door.

You looked at Steve with wide eyes and nervousness building up in your tummy at the thought of being in the same room with one third of the Avengers.

“I’ll get it” He reassured you, standing up to answer the door.

Before you knew it, Tony Stark confidently barreled into the room. Firing some teasing words at Steve, you knew the poor guy would never hear the end of it.

“Oh look, here she is!” Tony announced.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Stark.” You shook his hand.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled.

“Tony” Steve warned with a glare.

“Where’s the paper work?” Tony asked.

You quickly handed him the picture and the signed document that was on the table. Steve stood right next to you as you both watched him read over it, and evaluate the legitimacy.

Tony took out his phone snapped a few pictures, and made a weird face. Nervously, you his your face in Steve’s arm and he instinctively rubbed your back to comfort you.

Then, Tony started laughing. “Rogers you’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware, but what’s so funny?” Steve complained.

“It’s fake.” Tony said.

“What?” Your head popped up.

“Little white chapel, married by Elvis just for the gag type of thing. There’s no marriage license, it’s not a legal marriage.” He explained, handing you the papers back.

Both you and Steve let out a huge sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not that much of an idiot after all.”

“No, you’re still stupid.” Tony denied. “Out of all the people in the world I would’ve never expected this from you, Cap.”

“This is Thor’s fault.” Steve pointed his finger.

You didn’t understand how the god of thunder had anything to do with this, but you had no mental capacity left to even ask.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Just be on time for the flight home and stay out of trouble.” Tony told him. “Hope to see you around again soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

And just like that, he was out faster than he came in.

“I know Tony made it seem like everything is okay, but it’s not and I have a giant mess to clean up with the team.” Steve explained to you.

“Yeah, I’d assume so.” You smiled.

“Which means I really should go.” He let you down. “But regardless of this fiasco, and from what I do remember, I had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you want to exchange phone numbers and maybe hang out again when we get home?”

“I would love that, Steve.” You agreed.

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours. Both putting in your phone numbers and names before swapping them back.

At the same time, you both burst out laughing at the contact names.

Unplanned, he put his name as Husband, and you put yours as Wife.

“Ridiculous!” You laughed, walking him to the door.

“Maybe we really were meant to be.” Steve pondered.

“Maybe.” You agreed. “But in all seriousness, thank you for getting me home safe last night. I was really lucky to run into the right person at the right time.”

“Of course.” Steve grinned. “Travel safe, and let me know when you get home so we can set something up.”

“You got it.” Rocking up on your tippy toes, you kissed his cheek. “Have fun cleaning up that mess, Husband.”

“Don’t tell your Mom about this, Wife.”

You locked your lips and threw away the key. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧

[crushpunky]

kook!reader picks up rafe from a party

Droves of drunken teenagers and young adults filled the house and front lawn, cheering and dancing along to the blaring music as Reader pulled into Topper’s driveway. She had decidedly chosen not to attend Topper’s party that evening, she had been battling a headache all morning and, after attending the pregame with the boys, had instead opted to spend the night at home. That was until she got a call from Kelce telling her Rafe was going crazy looking for her and she needed to get here quickly before things got ugly.

Once she put the car in park, Reader quickly took her keys out before heading towards the wide open front door. Weaving through the crowds of people, she searched the crowd for any sign of the Kook boys.

“There you are!” Reader turned around to find Topper, his hair a mess and some girl hanging off of his arm. It wasn’t Sarah, but Reader wasn’t too surprised considering the two of thems constant fighting and on-and-off relationship.

“Where is he?” Reader asked.

“He’s in my room,” Topper said, “but he’s bad. He was… just be ready, a’ight?”

Reader nodded before going up the stairs towards Topper’s bedroom. As she neared the door she could feel her stomach churning. This was by no means the first time she had needed to pick one of the boys up from a party because they were too drunk to walk, but by how Topper made it sound, she was afraid of what would be behind that door. Would he be passed out? Would he be bleeding from some fight with a Pogue? Would he be dead?

“Did you call her? Is she coming?” She could hear Rafe’s voice pleading from inside Topper’s room.

“Yeah, she’s on her way, she’ll be here any moment you—” Kelce responded.

“Why isn’t she here right now? I can’t— I need her to—” Rafe was cut off when Reader finally opened the door. He was pacing along the floor in front of Topper’s bed, running his trembling hands along his shirt and through his hair. Kelce sat on the edge of the bed in front of him, his eyes filled with worry.

“Fucking finally,” Kelce said, letting out a deep breath. Rafe ran up to Reader quickly, causing her to jump back, running her eyes over the tall boy. His forehead was drenched with sweat, his pupils huge, and his breathing ragged and uneven as he stood in front of her, practically vibrating with energy.

“Thanks, Kels.” Reader said quietly as Kelce nodded before escaping out the door behind her. She closed it quietly before turning back towards Rafe.

“You’re here.” Rafe said breathlessly, cracking a small grin.

“What the fuck, Rafe.” Reader scoffed. Had he really had her drive all the way to Topper’s house just to stand in front of her and stare at her, high out of his fucking mind?

“I know, I know, I fucked up.” He said, taking another step towards her. She backed away, her stern gaze locked on him. She had known Rafe long enough to know that coddling him wasn’t an option when he was like this. She loved him, and he was her best friend, but he was an addict.

“Fucking obviously, Rafe. Jesus, what did you take?” Reader said, her arms crossed.

“I don’t know I was just—”

“You don’t know?” Reader couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“No, I do I just—” Rafe ran his fingers through his hair with a huff. “I took some coke, alright? I guess my tolerance was all fucked up after I hadn’t had it it in a while and I just took too much so I had some drinks and—”

“Rafe,” Reader groaned, closing her eyes tightly and running her hands down her face. He had been doing so well, nearly two weeks clean from coke and alcohol. In fact, they had just gone out for coffee yesterday to celebrate. He had called it cheesy, but she was proud of him. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Rafe pleaded, grabbing her hands away from her face. Reader pulled them back, not wanting to feel his shaky, clammy hands on her.

“What happened? What changed?” Reader said, her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of the boy.

“I— you— fuck!” Rafe shook, hitting the side of his head with his fists as he paced in front of her. Reader grabbed his wrists, attempting to pull them away from his head. The two grappled for a moment before Rafe finally gave in, dropping to his knees in front of her with a sob.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so, so stupid. I don’t deserve you.” He said, burying his face into the front of Reader’s shirt and wrapping his arms around her torso. Reader set her hands on the top of his head, soothing his hair as he cried.

“Rafe, you need to tell me what happened.” Reader said quietly but sternly, tilting his head back to look at her. His face was streaked with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he looked back at her. She had seen him like this before, rambling drunkenly or angrily high out of his mind. It wasn’t often, though, that he cried like this, sobs racking through his body and eyes bloodshot as he clung on to her.

“You.” Rafe whispered. “You weren’t here and I… I needed you here.”

Reader looked back at him in silence. Her best friend, the boy she was desperately in love with, on his knees telling her it was her fault he was like this. It was her fault he was feeling this pain. It was her fault he felt the need to drown out the agony he felt inside him by getting high.

“What?” Reader said. She almost felt like she was gonna vomit, various emotions racing through her mind. Was this her fault? No, how could it be? How dare he blame her for this?

“I just…” Rafe sighed. “I don’t know how to… be myself when you’re not here. It feels like I’m fucking drowning without you. I can’t do it. I just can’t keep acting like I’m not in l—”

Rafe cut himself off, burying his head back into Reader’s shirt. Reader felt tears sting at her eyes. He needed her, fucking needed her, to be himself. To be the Rafe she always knew he was, the one he could be… He couldn’t even see it in himself.

“Rafe.” Reader spoke softly, slowly lowering herself to come down to his eye level.

“I’m sorry, that was— I can’t just put that on you. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking.” Rafe sniffled, wiping his nose on his t-shirt sleeve. He finally met her eyes, his arms still wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Why?” Reader said softly, pressing her hand to his cheek gently. “Why can’t you be yourself? Why don’t you see that in yourself?”

Rafe felt himself melt into her touch as her fingers grazed his skin. He wanted to tell her so much, wanted to dump everything out and tell her how he felt. That being without her was like torture. That having to act everyday like they were just friends, like he didn’t think about her every second, was killing him. Like he couldn’t even picture a future that she wasn’t included in. Like he wasn’t head over heels, ridiculously in love with her… but he knew it wasn’t fair. It wouldn’t be fair of him to do that to her. To pull her even deeper into his fucked up, violent, angry world, risking hurting himself or, god forbid, something happening to her. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her because of him. 

“I… I don’t know.” Rafe said with an exhale, but Reader knew the answer. He had been groomed his whole life to put his self worth into others, never able to have confidence in himself. Always striving to please someone, do things for others, but never for himself. In his own twisted mind, he couldn’t get clean for himself, but he could get clean for her. He couldn’t rationalize doing something as “selfish” as making himself better for the sake of his health or wellbeing, but he would try for her. If that’s what she wanted, of course he would do it. But if she wasn’t going to be there, then what was the point? He might as well waste his life away.

“I just wish that you could see yourself like I see you.” Reader said softly, wiping one of the remaining tears from under his eyes.

“And how do you see me?” Rafe whispered, his eyes scanning her face slowly.

“I see you as that boy who loved playing soccer with his sisters in the backyard.” Reader smiled.

“I see you as that boy who told me about cooties, then proceeded to avoid me for a whole week in kindergarten. I see you as that boy who always made sure to give me one of his Oreos every single day in Ms Katten’s third grade class. I see you as that boy who… hugged me when I was crying at my brother's funeral. I see you as that boy who gave me the best night of my life at Midsummers. Rafe, I see you for the good, kind boy that you can be. That you are.” Reader said, her head swarming with memories of the two of them from childhood. They sat in the quiet for a moment, Rafe sitting in her words. Was that really how she saw him? As a nice person? A good person? Not as a psychotic, violent addict who ruined everything he touched?

“I didn’t realize that was how you thought of me.” Rafe said quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“I think the world of you, Rafe.” Reader said, her hand pressing into his cheek gently. “I just wish you would think of yourself that way.”

Rafe nodded solemnly before pulling her into him, burying his head in her neck as he held her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close and resting her head next to his.

“I love you.” She said into his shirt. Of course she did, he was her best friend. He didn’t need to know that he invaded her every waking thought. That she couldn’t fathom her life without him. That she felt addicted to him, like she needed him to breathe… like she was totally in love with him.

“I love you too.” He said. He meant it, obviously, but he only wished she knew how much he loved her… or loved him the way he loved her.

[wileys-russo]

Hayley Raso + “you’re such an asshole I can’t believe I like you” + playing video games together ! 🧎‍♀️🫶🏼

world class II h.raso

"hay, baby you can't sleep yet." you wandered past the lounge and noticed the australian start to drift off, shaking her ankle as she groaned and opened her eyes.

"why?" hayley sighed deeply, rubbing her face and crossing her arms over her chest. "because the entire point of your jetlag plan is so you're back and fit to train a few days before your match babe." you smiled sympathetically.

"baby i could just take a tiny nap? then i'll still sleep tonight!" the brunette tried to bargain as you shook your head. "not part of the plan, and as both your girlfriend and a physio i have to ensure you follow that plan!" you laughed, gesturing for her to sit up.

you and hayley had met during her season at everton. you were only a trainee physio then, on work placement to finish your degree but you'd caught the australian's eye right away, the two of you getting along like a house on fire.

hayley was sat with a proud smile at your graduation, still only a friend to you then but not for a lack of trying, you only taking her attempts to flirt with you as banter and not yet clicking she wanted to be much more than just friends.

after you were fully qualified you quickly found yourself with a job offer in manchester for the devils, though still with 6 months left on your lease you stayed living where you had been and hayley amped up her efforts to woo you.

finally you clicked that she wasn't just being friendly on a drunken night out with some of her friends who were visiting from australia that she'd insisted you join, two of them quickly pulling you aside and asking when you and hayley had started dating it all suddenly made sense.

fast forward a couple of years and you'd both made the move to spain and were living in madrid, hayley still playing football and you working in a local sports clinic, working more with younger kids and teenagers who came up from the academies than directly with a team like you had been prior.

"you're no fun." hayley pouted with a frown as you shook your head. "maybe not, but neither is being medically benched because the team physios catch wind you're too tired to be cleared to play." you warned lightly, her eyes widening.

"you wouldn't!" hayley sat up properly now with a scoff. "i would love, if it meant you avoided any and all risk of injury." you promised softly, running a hand through her hair and shrugging.

"i wish you'd stayed working in england." hayley mumbled as her eyes began to once again feel heavy. "well aren't you absolutely charming." you rolled your eyes, turning to leave as a hand grabbed the back of your top.

"sorry! i'm just tired." hayley groaned, pulling you down onto the lounge and trapping you in between her arms and legs in a tight bear hug. "i know baby, but this plan will mean you aren't tired like this for very long." you twisted your neck to sweetly peck her lips.

"will you play fifa with me then? i was getting my ass kicked at tillies camp and i have to make sure i can hold my own before the next one. i didn't win a single game!" your girlfriend huffed, forever hotheaded and fiercely competitive much as it amused you to watch.

"love i've not got a clue how to play. in fact hay you banned me from playing because it was 'too hard to watch' remember?" you quirked an eyebrow as a guilty smile curled into her features.

"babe that was ancient history, i'm a new much more patient woman now." hayley grinned as you let out a loud sarcastic peal of laughter and tapped at her forearms to let you up.

"it wasn't even eight weeks ago raso." you hovered over her with a shake of your head, suddenly pulling back as she tried to sit up and capture your lips in hers. "oi! come here and give me a kiss." the australian frowned impatiently.

"no." you smiled, standing and heading toward the kitchen to make lunch for the pair of you, not at all surprised at the sound of footsteps hurrying after you.

"hayley!" you gasped as a body barrelled into you almost taking you down to the floor before your girlfriend grabbed your hand, spinning and dipping you, holding you just from falling as your heart raced.

"don't do that! its not funny." you smacked her chest with a thump as she laughed and you scowled, trying to move past her but before you could take another step her mouth was pressed against yours, feeling the winger smile into the kiss.

"you're a child sometimes." you pulled away and smacked her on the head with a magazine that was handy on the counter, only causing her to smile wider clearly proud of herself.

"that can wait! just one game? it'll help keep me awake." your girlfriend tugged you back from the kitchen with her best puppy dog eyes as you sighed. "fine. one game!"

"how the hell do you defend? i forget the controls!" you moaned in annoyance, only having had possession for about two seconds this entire half as your girlfriend knocked back goal after goal.

"hayley!" you huffed as she made her player do a backflip after another goal and cheered loudly in your ear, kissing your cheek apologetically from where you lay between her legs, your elbows resting on her knees and your back pressed to her front.

"you said this would be easy." you complained as the game stopped for half time. "no, i said i would put the match settings on easy." your girlfriend corrected as you pinched her thigh unimpressed with the answer.

"you're winning 8-0 surely you can spare five fucking minutes to show me the controls again?" you huffed before she could click to resume play, a lazy kiss pressed to your jaw as she dropped her remote and her hands settled over yours.

"when you attack you click this to pass, this to clear, this one to sprint and this one for a header or a short ball, and this to shoot." she explained slowly, pointing out the different buttons as you nodded.

"when you defend its the same sequence just different results. this one to chase, this one to tackle, this one to slide tackle and this one to clear." your girlfriend explained as again you nodded, doing your best to follow along.

"so does this mean you might let me keep the ball for more than thirty seconds and maybe even give me a pity goal?" you asked hopefully as the winger grabbed her own control and grinned.

"not a chance darlin." she stole a kiss and clicked resume before you could bite back with a remark. the second half you played a little better, but still you failed to score and conceded yet another five goals making it so hayley won with a whopping 13-0.

"that was humiliating." you scowled tossing the remote to the side onto the lounge and rolling your eyes. "thats life, win some you lose some. i feel a lot better about my results at camp now! thanks baby." her hands settled either side of your face and tilted your head back so she could press kisses across your skin.

"you're welcome." you rolled your eyes, gently tugging her hands away and sitting up, glancing to the screen only for a moment as your head snapped back to it and you frowned.

"world class!? you said you put it on beginner." you turned to glare at your girlfriend who shrugged, quickly turning off the tv and sitting up on her knees.

"did i? guess i must have clicked the wrong one babe, sorry." she grinned, pushing you to lay down as her face hovered over yours, not an ounce of remorse in her eyes.

"you're such an asshole, i can't believe i like you." "only like?" "barely tolerate." "what happened to love!" "maybe if you weren't a world class bad loser, you might get some."