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nightsandrewrites · 7 months ago

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Illyrian Males

Pairing: Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Cassian and Azriel make a bet to see who can get Y/N first. But is she already seeing someone?

Word count: 13k oops

Warnings: M/M before you get to readers involvement, smut, 18+, dubious consent if you squint

a/n: It wasn’t meant to be this long but I couldn’t keep the bat boys off each other so…

———————————————————————

You swirl the last of your drink around your glass, enjoying the cool night air flowing through the House of Wind. The door to the balcony lies open where Feyre and Mor just left with a sleeping Nyx. Mor was escorting Feyre and the Prince of the Night Court back to the River House before returning home herself.

You know the High Lord would have escorted his lady himself had Feyre not insisted. “Stay and enjoy more time with your family, you work too hard.”

Now it was only the Ilyrrian brothers left with you in the small sitting area. You watch as Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel grin at each other like children who are up to no good. It warms your heart to see them happy and spending time together after everything you’ve all been through. You decided it’s time you excused yourself for bed and let the boys have their night together. You down the rest of your drink before standing.

“I’m off to bed, keep the volume down you lot.” You give them a smile and turn, making your way down the hall.

Cassian watches Y/N leave. His initial stare is innocent, noting her stride and balance, indicating to him how much she’s had to drink. But as she retreats down the hall he can’t help that his eyes fall to her swaying hips. The dress she’s wearing perfectly hugging her curves and the thought of tearing it of-

“You’re fucking Y/N” Rhysand states and Cassian whips his head round to him. Rhysand’s expression is relaxed as his eyes flick between him and Azriel. As if he had stated something as obvious as ‘the sky was blue’’.

Cassian looks across at Azriel. He was sure the same confused expression was plastered on his own face.

You fucked her? Cassian asks through their shared mating bond.

Of course not. Did you? He questions back.

Cassian doesn’t bother replying, he knows Azriel can feel his confusion and suspicion all the way down the bond.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian turns back to Rhys who was silently watching their exchange.

“In the hundreds of years I’ve known you, both of you, I’ve never seen either of you look at someone like that,” he nods to the hallway you disappeared down “except each other.” He pulls his drink to his lips, hiding a small smirk.

Cassian wills his cheeks not to warm, having been caught out lusting after someone who wasn’t his mate. But Rhysand had said both of them? Had Azriel also been watching you leave with more than just friendly affection in his eyes? He spares a glance to Azriel who is already watching him, head tilted in consideration.

“Well I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but you need to get your eyes checked old man.” Cassian stands and pats Rhysands shoulder as he moves past him to the small bar against the wall. He really needed to be doing something with his hands right now and pouring another drink was the perfect excuse to get out from under the scrutinising eyes of his mate and High Lord.

“My mistake.” He chuckles and quickly moves on to discussing plans for a boys night out.

————————————————————————

Azriel towels off his damp hair in the mirror. It was now well into the early hours of the morning, Rhysand having only just headed home for the night. He probably should have just gone to bed, but he does his best thinking while soaking in warm waters.

He tracks one of his shadows in the mirror as it swirls up his bicep and curls around his ear, whispering to him.

Cassian leaving his room….

Another shadow brushes the back of his neck

...coming to see us.

Azriel always used his shadows as sentinels, guarding the hallway outside his room. As much as he would like to give Cassian his privacy, his shadows seemed to be just as obsessed with the Illyrian warrior as he was. Often reporting his comings and goings without request.

He wraps a towel around his waist and moves into his bedroom looking for something to wear. With trained Illyrian hearing he could now pick up on Cassian’s footfalls down the hall. They’d kept their separate rooms, as no one except Rhysand was aware of their mating bond. Their ability to communicate silently through the bond was a massive advantage in combat, they didn’t want to risk anyone finding out about it and that information spreading across courts. But they couldn’t have really hoped to keep it from Rhysand with how often he was inside their heads.

Azriel senses Cassian open the door and walk in as he’s pulling underwear out of a draw.

“I’m changing asshole” Azriel glares at him over a shoulder.

“What? Have something I haven’t seen before?” Cassian rolls his eyes and throws himself into the armchair in the corner of the room, letting his head fall back in exhaustion.

Azriel takes a moment to appreciate Cassian’s bare torso and follows the cut of his muscles that disappear beneath soft grey pants. He drops his eyes to the floor noticing his shadows already slithering along to the General. Cassian lifts his head and looks him up and down waiting for him to drop his towel. Azriel feels his cheeks warm under the intense gaze. He racks his mind for something to distract Cassian with, that would allow him to change in peace, and remembers Rhysand’s comment about Y/N tonight.

“So, you’ve finally grown bored of me and have moved on to eye fucking our roomate?” Azriel raises an eyebrow at him. That did the trick. Cassian drops his face to the floor where shadows now swirl around his ankles, slowly climbing his covered calves. Azriel quickly drops his towel and pulls on his underwear. He softly closes the drawer with his hip, he wouldn’t need anymore clothing tonight with the heater of an Illyrian that was Cassian sharing his bed.

“Rhysand definitely didn’t think it was just me.” Cassian lifts his eyes back to Azriel, cheeks flushed with the slightest of pink. Azriel makes his way to the edge of the bed before replying.

“So what if I was?” Azriel leans back on his hands, shoulders flexing under his weight. Cassian’s eyebrows shoot up. He stands and strides across the room, shadows still clinging to him, almost at his waist now.

“Are you saying I don’t satisfy you anymore?” Cassian bends over him, leaning large strong hands on Azriel’s thighs. Azriel feels him squeeze ever so slightly.

“Maybe she’d actually be able to follow instructions.” Azriel smirks up at him. Referencing all the times that Cassian has failed to follow his commands. Hands up, no touching until I say. Stay quiet baby, you don’t want the others to hear you. And Azriel’s personal favourite. Don’t finish until I tell you to.

Azriel leans forward, brushing his lips against Cassian’s ear as he whispers “Or maybe I keep imagining her lips wrapped around your dick as I take you from behind.” Azriel watches the shiver that runs down Cassian’s spine. He slides his hand up Cassian’s inner thigh, scattering the shadows there, until he lands on the Illyrians rock hard length.

Cassian suddenly pushes him backwards and Azriel slides further up the bed. He climbs the mattress pushing Azriel’s legs apart as he settles himself between them. His pupils are blown wide and his wings pump once behind him in a show of dominance.

“You think her tongue, her warm pussy, would have you moaning the way you do when you’re fucked out on my cock?” Cassian growls as he shoves down his pants, releasing himself from their restraint. He pumps himself and Azriel can only bite his lip in anticipation as he watches Cassian’s hand make two long strokes.

Azriel bucks his hips up, pinned under Cassian’s hungry gaze. Cassian’s lips raise in a half smirk and he swiftly removes Azriel’s underwear. His eyes never leave Azriel’s as he slowly reaches out to the bottle on the nightstand and lubes his fingers. Azriel knows he’s doing it on purpose, wants him to squirm for a moment before giving him what he wants. He finally leans over Azriel, reaches down and slowly circles his hole. Azriel closes the distance between them, capturing Cassian's bottom lip between his teeth, a silent plea to hurry up.

Cassian pushes inside him with two fingers, pumping quickly, already spreading him open. Azriel drops his head back into the pillow with a moan. Cassian knows he likes to take his pleasure with a side of pain, so wouldn’t take too much care in opening him up. Azriel shifts his legs up a little giving Cassian better access.

“That smart mouth of yours has nothing left to say?” Cassian murmurs against his skin as he kisses down his exposed neck. Azriel only lets out a soft moan in response.

It’s only a couple of more strokes with skilled fingers before Cassian’s lining his head up with Azriel’s ass. He enters him in one swift motion that has Azriel arching off the bed. Cassian sets an unrelenting pace that has him seeing white behind his eyes. A calloused hand wraps around Azriel’s length and gives him swift pumps that match the deep strokes inside him.

Azriel can barely think straight with Cassian consuming every nerve. Cassian shifts back on his knees a little, dragging Azriel with him.

“You think Y/N could read your body like this?” Cassian continues his unwavering thrusts as his grip on Azriel’s cock tightens. Azriel feels it then. Feels soft gliding strokes across the inner part of his right wing and he can’t stop the whine that escapes him.

Cassian, the cocky bastard, chuckles above him. Azriel reels in the last of his focus to retort.

“I wouldn’t need her to, she’d be riding my face right now.” Cassian’s dick twitches inside him at the comment and the Illyrian above him lets out a low possessive growl. He pulls out of Azriel and quickly flips him on his front, lifts his hips and thrusts back into him hard. Cassian bends over him trapping his wrists to the bed.

“Now you get to cum untouched.” Cassian sneers at him.

Azriel has lost the power of speech, the new deeper angle has him coming undone. Every stroke has Cassian dragging over that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. Azriel isn’t concerned how his comments might land with Cassian. Every time he mentions Y/N he can feel Cassian’s lust flaring through the bond.

A few more snaps of Cassian’s hips have them both exploding, Azriel moaning into his pillow before they both collapse in a pile of sweaty limbs.

“Now I’m going to need another bath.” Azriel huffs, rolling onto his side facing Cassian.

“Sucks to be you” Cassian smirks and Azriel punches his bicep before leaning in and kissing him gently.

————————————————————————

Cassian pulls back and speaks into Azriel’s mind, too exhausted for more words.

It’s weird isn’t it, that we both started… noticing Y/N at the same time?

Just noticing? Azriel chuckles. Is that all it is, is it?

You know what I mean. Cassian physically rolls his eyes at him.

It is a little strange. Azriel admits as he rolls on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Too bad for you she would pick me over you.

As if! Cassian gives his arm a shove with his elbow.

Want to bet? Loser has to go down on the winner for a month straight. Azriel turns his head back to Cassian, eyebrows raised in challenge. Cassian quickly glances down between the Shadowsingers legs. He quickly debates how much damage Azriel’s considerable length could do in that amount of time.

Make it two weeks and you’re on. Cassian narrows his eyes. Are we talking, taking her to bed? He lets his features fall then and lets his wariness flow through the bond. He’s unsure how’d he feel taking someone to bed without his mate.

Let’s just go with getting her to agree on a date. Azriel reaches up and strokes the back of his fingers down Cassian’s stubbled jawline. Pure love vibrates through him from the threads that lay between them.

You’re on. Cassian leans forward and seals the bet with a quick kiss.

———————————————————————

A week passes and Cassian can’t stop thinking about the bet they made. He didn’t want to act too soon, didn’t want Azriel to think him too eager in going after Y/N. But who was he kidding? He found himself back in that sitting room, weekly drinks in full swing, watching Y/N bite her lip, holding in a laugh to the story Amren was telling her about the boys.

You’re drooling. Azriel teases down the bond. Cassian forces his eyes away from her and to the drink in his lap.

I am not. He scoffs. He looks up at Azriel sitting across from him, mischievously staring at him with knowing eyes. A bead of condensation runs down Azriel’s glass and he watches as Az strokes a long finger up the side wiping it away. God those fingers. He can almost feel how’d they brush his skin, how they’d pull at his hair and dig into his hips. How Cassian would take Azriel’s finger into his mouth, running his tongu-

Unless you want me to show you what these fingers can do to you right here, in front of everyone, I suggest you stop. Azriel’s eye’s darken as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Who’s drooling now? Cassian smirks at him.

Y/N’s laughter brings him back to the room. The others are almost doubled over at the story Amren just finished. Rhys starts topping up glasses with the bottle of wine in his hand, but Y/N holds up a hand when he reaches her.

“I think I need some water and maybe a snack.” She explains as she stands and heads through the door and down the hall to the kitchen.

So you haven’t talked to Y/N yet. Worried she’s going to say no to you? Azriel has obviously recovered from the images Cassian had thrown down the bond moments ago.

You haven’t either. Cassian quips back.

Oh no, I’m happy for you to go first. I want to give you a fighting chance. Azriel teases. Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, puts down his glass and makes his way to the door.

As he’s leaving he feels a mix of amusement and curiosity flow through the bond between them. Followed by a small tug of jealousy. Cassian smirks to himself, Azriel should be jealous, he was about to lay the charm on so thick, no fae would say no to him. But as he reaches the hallway he turns and winks.

Fuck me later asshole. And watches as Azriel visibly relaxes at his words.

————————————————————————

You slice the block of cheese in front of you, carefully avoiding your fingers. You can’t imagine the ribbing you’d get from the boys if you turned up to training tomorrow with a bandaged hand from slicing cheese.

Your vision wobbles ever so slightly and you decide it’s probably best not to push your drunken state and carefully put the knife down. You slide a couple of pieces of bread and cheese onto a plate and turn to go back to the sitting room when you find an Illyrian in the way.

“Want some bread and cheese?” You offer out the plate to Cassian.

“Sure.” He smiles broadly. He enters the kitchen completely, pulling his wings in tight through the doorway. He takes one look at the few pieces on the plate and scoops every last one into his hands.

“Cass!” You smack his shoulder lightly as he turns away chuckling, throwing pieces into his mouth.

“Sit, I’ll get you some more. Wouldn’t want you to slice a finger off with that cutting technique.” He gives you a wink as you take a seat at one of the stools pulled up to the high table in the centre of the kitchen. How long had he been standing there watching you struggle?

You take a moment to focus on Cassian at work. Broad shoulders and muscled biceps were on display tonight through a tight black t-shirt. Muscles under the tan skin of his forearms ripple as he makes light work of preparing your midnight snack. Your eyes start tracing the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that cover his arms, you’ve seen him shirtless more times than you could count, so you know where they swirl across his chest. But beyond that, where those lines lead you could only imagine… No you shouldn’t be imagining. You catch yourself having leant forward on the table following the imagined lines and play it off as intense interest in his slicing technique.

You can not be having those kinds of thoughts about one of your best friends. Someone you lived in the same house as and someone who was fucking one of your other best friends. Of course they don’t know you know that. You don’t even know how you’d begin that conversation.

Hey Az, hey Cass. I was heading back from the library late one night when one of your shadows caught my eye. It seemed to be beckoning me and I thought something might be wrong so I followed it. Turns out, when I approached the sound of your hushed voices, they became moans and I thought you guys were either going at it or one you had finally decided to stab the other..

Okay stabbing was not the imagery you needed right now. Regardless, that was months ago and ever since you’ve been picking up more and more on the looks the two Illyrians share throughout a regular day. Something was definitely going on between the two of them and you weren’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Cassian pulls over the empty plate you discarded on the table between you. He piles on pieces of cheese and bread, but instead of pushing it back towards you he picks it up and walks around the table. He stops right beside you and you turn to face him.

He places the plate down beside you and leans on his elbow against the table.

“Sorry I stole your snack.” He pouts jokingly at you.

“Apology accepted.” You say as you pluck a piece off the plate. “Would you like some more?” You offer him after downing two more pieces and picking up a third.

“I’d love some.” He leans forward slightly and opens his mouth for you. His playfulness catches you off guard but you quickly recover and reach out to hold a piece of bread and cheese to his mouth.

He takes them from your fingers and before you can pull away, he catches your thumb as well. Without breaking eye contact his teeth gently graze the pad of your thumb. You freeze a little and let out a small gasp that you hope he doesn’t notice. He smirks and leans back.

“An interesting snack of choice.” He nods down at the plate, a smile still playing in his eyes.

“Uh.” You stumble a little bit, trying to recover from whatever the Hel that was. “It was just what was lying around.”

“The best midnight snack is the one that takes no effort.” He pushes off the table and heads to the next room that holds an ice chest for the cold foods. It gives you a minute to clear your head, you turn back to the plate to determine what exactly just happened when movement catches in the corner of your eye. You turn just in time to see two of Azriel’s shadows cross paths in the darkness of the doorway.

What kind of game do these two think they’re playing? Well if that’s how it’s going to be, then game on.

Cassian returns to the kitchen, a bowl of strawberries in one arm and a smaller bowl of fresh cream in the other. He was about to make this way too easy for you.

He returns to stand next to you, placing the bowels on the table pushing the plate of bread and cheese out of the way. He picks up a strawberry, dips it into the cream and brings it up to his lips.

“See, so easy and I could eat this whole bowel in one sitting.” He places almost the whole strawberry into his mouth and bites it off before the stem.

You follow his lead and bite through a cream dipped strawberry. It really was delicious, you might even make this a new favourite. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, taking turns dipping and eating strawberries.

Azriel once taught you that sometimes all you had to do to get someone to talk was to sit quietly and wait for them to fill the silence. As if on queue…

“So I was thinking.” Cassian picks up a strawberry and rolls it between his fingers. “How about you go to dinner with me and I can show you some of my other favourite food combinations?” He glances up at you. So he wants to take you out to dinner? You might be playing the game now but you still weren’t sure what the end goal was. Had they caught you staring a little too long at Azriel’s chiselled torso during training? Maybe their aim was your total and utter humiliation to teach you a lesson about coveting something that wasn’t yours?

“Oh, uh.” You fake a little flustering. Okay so maybe you didn’t need to fake being flustered when an Illyrian, that literally looked like a winged god, was asking you on a date.

“I’m flattered but I’ve actually been seeing someone recently.” You let the lie roll off your tongue and pretend to be extremely occupied selecting the perfect strawberry.

“Really?” Cassian straightens and you don’t miss the way his wings puff up a little. “Why haven’t you introduced him to everyone?”

You shrug and pick up one of the largest strawberries, coating it in a thick layer of cream.

“Oh you know, it’s not that serious yet. Just a bit of fun.” You bring the strawberry to your mouth and the cream is already beginning to run onto your fingers.

You stick out your tongue and run a long stripe through the cream. You feel Cassian stiffen next to you. Just as you suspected, way too easy. You quickly finish off your strawberry, leaving you with two fingers covered in cream. You suck them into your mouth and turn to Cassian with wide innocent eyes as you pull them out past your lips.

“Thanks for the midnight snack Cass.” You smile and hop off the stool and leave him staring after you in the middle of the kitchen.

————————————————————————

Another shadow slips through the cracked door. It slides its way along to join the others currently swirling around Azriel, slumped in an armchair in the corner of the room. With no candles lit in Cassian’s bedroom, he may as well be invisible.

The newly returned shadow slides around his neck.

Gone, Cassian alone.

Seconds later Cassian pushes open the door and then clicks it shut. He strides across the room, pieces of his hair coming loose of their bindings as he braces his hands on the desk, leaning over the mess of paperwork.

“Didn’t go as you planned then huh?” Azriel speaks up from his shadowy hiding place.

Cassian’s shoulders stiffen in surprise but quickly relax as he turns.

“How many times have I told you not to do that?” Cassian leans back against the desk folding his arms across his chest.

Azriel commands all of the shadows to disperse.

“Just because you got rejected doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” Azriel smirks at him. Enjoying for a moment that Cassian finally found someone who would say no to him.

“Please, she didn’t reject me, she’s seeing someone.” Cassian rolls his eyes. And fuck the way Azriel wants to bend him over and spank his ass red raw for doing so.

A shadow glides over Azriels shoulder.

Never seen her with a male.

“Do you think she really is seeing someone though? I’ve never seen or scented another male around her.” Azriel crosses his ankles out in front him, chin resting on intertwined hands.

“I don’t know. Maybe she wants to keep it quiet. But one thing I do know, she wanted to say yes. You should have smelt her Az.” Cassian grins widely. Flashes of strawberries, cream and Y/N’s tongue filter through their bond.

Azriel is left stunned for a moment at the images he’s being fed. Cassian pushes off the desk and sits opposite Azriel on the end of the bed.

“Well maybe she was holding out for another Illyrian.” Azriel teases him. “I hope you’re ready to deliver on that bet.”

Cassian scowles and then another memory is bursting through the bond. Cassian has Y/N’s thumb in his mouth, grazing his teeth along it before flicking it with his tongue. Her eyes are blown wide and her breaths are short and uneven.

Azriel growls then, pushes from his seat and is standing in front Cassian in two long strides.

“If you wanted to put something in your mouth baby, you should have just said so.” Azriel towers over him. He watches as Cassian runs his tongue along his bottom lip, Azriel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, probably weighing up the risks of continuing to be a brat.

Azriel reaches out and grabs his chin firmly before he has time to decide.

“Be good, and open for me.” Azriel murmurs softly.

Cassian drops his mouth open into Azriel’s hand. Azriel strokes along his jaw with his thumb. His other hand reaches into his pants freeing himself.

He rests the head of his cock on Cassian’s awaiting tongue. The warmth of Cassian’s mouth immediately shoots through him and he can’t help the small groan he lets out.

Cassian sits with his jaw slack, looking up at Azriel with round innocent eyes.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know what to do with it.” Azriel scoffs. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” Azriel releases Cassian’s jaw and slides his hand to the top of Cassian’s neck.

Cassian’s lips wrap around him then, a calloused hand gripping along his base. Azriel moans as his tongue laps at the precum beading at his head. For a moment he loses himself to the warmth of Cassian’s mouth, letting his head fall back. His focus narrows in on the tightness of Cassian’s grip, on the way his tongue rolls around him.

“Think you can take all of me tonight baby?” He flicks his eyes down to Cassian's head, bobbing up and down his length. The only response he gets is a muffled groan that sends vibrations through his dick, Azriel bites his lip to stifle his moan.

He leans forward entering Cassian’s throat, slowly at first allowing him to adjust and pull back if he needs. But Cassian relaxes and takes every inch that Azriel gives him without complaint. Azriel moves a hand to the front of Cassian's throat, feeling the bulge of himself sliding deeper. He could come undone right then and there but he knows he has a task to do tonight. Knows he needs to smooth over the bruises to Cassian's oversized ego after your earlier rejection.

“Look at you Cass, no one else could take me like this.” Azriel murmurs. A tear breaks the corner of Cassian’s eye at the strain of taking his length. Azriel swipes out a thumb, smoothing it over. He starts rocking back and forth down Cassian’s throat.

“Keep those eyes on me, want to see how beautiful you are.” Cassian eyes flick up to Azriel through damp lashes. “Fuck you were made for me baby. Your body is perfect, your mouth, those hands, that ass are all for me.” He growls. In response Cassian tightens his throat around Azriel and that has him coming undone with a moan. He shoots white strands down Cassian’s throat and coats the inside of his mouth. Cassian laps at Azriel’s over sensitive head, cleaning every inch as he slowly pulls out.

Azriel leans down and kisses him deeply. He can taste himself on Cassian’s lips. He drops to his knees between Cassian’s legs and finally releases Cassian’s dick. He gives it a few quick pumps to relieve him of the building tension.

“Fuck, Az!” Cassian’s moan is scratchy, his voice wired out after having Azriel down his throat. And damn does that have Azriel’s dick throbbing again.

“Lay back, let me take care of you.” Azriel pushes gently on Cassian’s abs, but he needs no encouragement to fall back onto the sheets.

Azriel leans forward and runs his tongue from base to tip. He quickly works Cassian to the edge, he knows every nerve, has them mapped out in his mind and traces them with ease. When Cassian is bucking up into him, forcing him to relax his throat, to focus his breathing, he reaches up and strokes that place on the inside of Cassian’s warm leathery wings.

“Azriel!” Cassian cums through clenched teeth. Azriel is sure to suck him dry, before stuffing him back into his pants.

He rises and leans over Cassian, wings splayed.

“Now let’s see what that pretty mouth craves.” Azriel smirks. Cassian closes his hazel eyes, focusing. Racing down the bond, Azriel catches a montage of all the times Cassian has knelt before him. His own cock down Cassian’s throat or in his hands and Azriel’s heart pounds at how beautiful Cassian makes him look in his memories. Azriel crashes his lips into Cassian's, breaking the flow of images. He sends his own thoughts down the bond.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Cassian’s response is singular.

Mine.

————————————————————————

Two weeks later you're in the training ring with your favourite Illyrians. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little extra swagger to your step these last weeks. You’d beat the boys at whatever game they had tried to play with you. Hadn’t let yourself be caught out by your little fantasies that they may have started suspecting. It gave your ego a much needed boost.

You refocused on the Shadowsinger just in time to block the blade that came swinging down at you.

“You’re distracted.” Azriel says straightening. “Do you need me to ask Cass to leave?”

You both look over to Cassian’s slumped form against the far wall. He was sitting shirtless, legs stretched out in front him. You’d all stripped down layers during the heat of training, it left the Illyrians shirtless and you down to a sweat soaked singlet. Your eyes followed sweat beads rolling over heaving muscles as he caught his breath.

“Please the only thing he could distract me with is his overinflated ego taking up too much space.” You wave your hand around gesturing to the air.

“Ha ha you’re both very funny.” Cassian says dryly. He picks up the towel next to him, pushes off the ground and walks out of the room without another word.

If you were being honest it wasn’t the general who was distracting you today but rather the Illyrian right in front of you. If Cassian relied on glowing looks and charm to win him affection then Azriel relied on broody arrogance and touch. From the moment he walked in this morning he’d been upon you. Small brushes of a calloused hand correcting your grip, taps to your side to widen your stance, a hand held out and gripped just a little too long as he helped you stand from a fall.

You returned to your combat. Making quick slashes forcing Azriel onto his back foot. But he was far more skilled than you were and you weren't stupid enough to think you’d won the upper hand. You narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to make his move when you felt the cool whisper against your skin. A dark shadow curls around your neck and slides along your collarbone. It’s quickly joined by another sliding around your ear. You don’t flinch. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you react. You respond with a thrust of your sword which he easily dodges with a small pivot. Before you have a chance to retract your arm a shadow curls around your wrist and squeezes.

Your breath stutters and then your cheeks flush, because you know how closely he monitors an opponent's breathing. Suddenly his leg swings out and catches the back of your knee. You drop your blade as you fall backwards trying to regain your footing but a muscular arm catches you before you hit the ground.

Azriel holds you up a foot from the ground like it’s nothing, grinning at you. And suddenly you realise maybe the game wasn’t over after all. Maybe Azriel, the cunning spymaster he is, was just lying in wait for the right opportunity to mess with you all this time.

“Cheater” you glare up at him.

“You should expect an opponent to use every tool in their arsenal” He chuckles softly.

He stands up, rightening you both but keeps an arm wrapped around you, a hand resting at the small of your back.

“I guess you need to resort to that if you’re worried you’ve lost your touch and were about to lose to little old me.” You grin wickedly, folding your arms across your chest.

You catch darkness flash across his features and then you see nothing at all as a shadow wraps itself over your eyes.

You drop your arms to your side, your body automatically preparing for a fight that isn't coming. You never feared Azriel, only left awed at what he was capable of. You feel a brush of air and then the fan of his breath on your neck as he leans in from behind you.

“Wait until you have to fight me blind sweetheart, no one’s ever walked away from that.” He whispers softly.

You work to calm your stuttering heart, with your vision gone you’re forced to focus on the sound of his voice and the movement of his body with a new found intensity.

“Even Cass?” You question, hoping to distract him from your compromised position.

“Ha, I guess Cass has come close.” He chuckles and allows the shadow to fall away from your face. He steps around in front of you again.

“Only Rhys has ever bested me in a fight of total darkness, but who would expect anything less from the High Lord of the Night Court.” He shrugs in acceptance.

“Well how about a heads up next time you bring shadows to a sword fight?” You bend down, scoop up your fallen sword and start to make your way to the weapons rack.

“Let me make it up to you, have drinks with me tonight?” He follows closely behind you.

“Like a date?” You ask. This was starting to drive you mad. Were they really so cruel as to torture you just for having a little crush. What you wouldn’t give to have either Illyrian be genuinely interested in you. Azriel had to be asking you out. If it was any other day it would just be a casual; Drinks tonight, you in? not the mystery riddled Have drinks with me tonight? in that low sultry tone of his.

“Why not?” He asks. You can feel him standing right behind you as you secure the training sword on the rack.

“I’m actually seeing someone, but thanks.” You parroted what you said to Cassian a couple of weeks ago. But it doesn’t have the same gusto, instead you can hear your own voice laced with defeat.

“Really? Because I don’t think you are. I think you’re lying.” He teases. Your back stiffens, you can sense that he’s still only a step behind you. Did he, did they, really think that no one could be genuinely interested in you? Of course he wasn’t wrong. It had been an age since your last real date but you hadn’t really made yourself available. Preferring to throw all your energy into your work, your training and your family.

You decided then you were going to do something that would probably be considered dangerous. But it was time you got back at Azriel for all the touches; from him, from his shadows, during training. You quickly turn around to face him before you lose your nerve.

“Sorry to burst your bubble then, obviously you're not the great spymaster you think you are.” You give him a smile and go to leave the training ring. As you step around him though, you intentionally don’t leave enough space, forcing your bare shoulder to brush against the warm leathery surface of his wing.

He growls, a low feral sound that rolls from deep in his chest and for a second you think you might not actually make it back into the house alive. You don’t stop walking though and you don’t look back as you head inside.

————————————————————————

The bedroom door slams back against the wall with a crack and Cassian freezes with a spoon halfway to his mouth.

“She should be fucking dead.” Azriel snarls as he strides into the room. Cassian wondered how it was going up in the training ring, had waited in Azriel’s room to find out and by the looks of the spymaster, not very well.

“Did she insult your shadows?” Cassian smirks, placing his bowl down and standing from the armchair. It wasn’t often that something or someone got Azriel this worked up. Cassian couldn’t wait to hear exactly what Y/N had said.

Azriel glares at him and then suddenly Y/N’s face is flashing down the bond. Cassian sees through Azriel’s memory how she secured her sword to the rack, turned and insulted Azriel’s skills as a Spymaster. Cassian chuckles, he’s going soft if he’s getting that worked up over that little comment. But then she brushes past him and he feels it like he’s actually there in the moment, she…

“Your wing?” Cassian stands gaping at him. Even though Y/N wasn’t Illyrian herself she knew how they were affected by their wings. She knew that outside of healing, and training to fly as a youngling, nobody touched an Illyrian’s wings except their most intimate partners.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Well she’s not afraid to break the rules is she.”

“I almost broke something.” Azriel grumbled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t retaliate, you could have had her pinned, cowering on the floor in two seconds.” Cassian shrugged.

“Slight problem.” Azriel grimaces and motions to his hips. Cassian can now make out the bulge straining Azriel’s leathers. He doesn’t let Cassian respond as he storms for the bathroom. “Shower. Now.”

Cassian follows him into the bathroom and leans against the door, watching Azriel’s back as he practically tears his clothes off.

“You better be undressed by the time I turn around.” He says over his shoulder. Cassian rolls his eyes but starts striping down. Y/N really managed to get him in a mood.

“Roll your eyes again and see what happens.” Azriel growls and then steps into the shower, steam already filling the small room.

Azriel likes to be in control. And as much as Cassian likes to push his buttons, to force him to let go sometimes, he can’t help the small thrill that runs through him at the thought of his mate in his most dominant state.

He steps into the shower and Azriel has him pinned to the wall in an instant. Azriel’s mouth is on his, then on his throat sucking and nibbling and then he drops to Cassian’s chest swirling his tongue around his nipple. Cassian lets out a soft moan and drops his head back against the wall. His hips make an unintentional thrust, silently begging for Azriel's mouth elsewhere.

Azriel straightens, sliding a hand up Cassian's chest and wrapping it around his throat.

You’ll be good for me, won’t you Cas? Azriel’s dark voice whispers through Cassian's mind. One hand still wrapped around his neck the other trails down the broad muscles of his abs and grips his cock.

You’ll let me take you. Let me fill you and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow?

For a second Cassian considers a snarky response but he sees the shadows swirling in Azriel’s eyes. He knows what Azriel wants from him. Not to be Cassian the battle worn warrior or Cassian the Illyrian General, but the Cassian who would drop to his knees and do anything for him. The Cassian that exists only for the Shadowsinger.

Yours Az. Cassian practically whimpers back. Always need you. Please.

Fuck Azriel’s barely touched him and he can hardly string a proper sentence together.

Good baby. Azriel practically purrs in his mind and then steps away from him. Instantly Cassian wants to reach for him, to feel Azriel’s body against his, but he resists.

Turn around, hands on the wall. Azriel commands him.

Cassian obeys. Placing both hands to the cool wall as warm water rushes down half his body.

He only just settles his stance when Azriel suddenly enters him with two fingers causing him to cry out in pleasure. He’s not given time to adjust as Azriel begins moving, stretching him.

That’s it, let me hear how much you like it baby.

Cassian bites his bottom lip attempting to stifle his moans. Azriel removes his fingers and Cassian whines at the loss of contact and starts to turn to face him.

I said hands on the wall. Azriel's sharp voice winds through his mind.

Cassian obeys, forcing his palms firmly into the wall and gritting his teeth. When it came to intimacy Azriel couldn’t be more different to Cassian. He was all about the pleasure of delayed gratification but Cassian wanted everything yesterday. He hears Azriel shifting behind him, he leans his forehead on the wall for balance as he drops a hand between his legs.

Hands. On. The. Wall. Azriel’s voice growls and Cassian quickly returns his hand.

Suddenly Azriel enters him in one swift motion, forcing Cassian’s hips to buck forward. He groans at the intrusion and tears prick at the corner of his eyes as Azriel begins quick thrusts.

Look at you. The Great Illyrian General becomes a whimpering mess when he’s getting fucked on my cock.

The instant fullness is almost too much, he feels his feet slip along the floor. But he’s surprised to find that Azriel isn’t there with a steadying hand. Now that he thinks of it, the only point of contact is Azriel’s length sliding in and out of him. He needs more, he always needs more.

“Oh god, please” Cassian moans “Please touch me, let me move.”

“It’s not the gods you should be begging to.” Azriel growls.

“Please Az…” Cassian begs. Azriel hasn’t paused his quick thrusts once and Cassian can barely string a sentence together. A dark chuckle enters Cassian's mind.

Oh no, what was it you said? “Now you get to cum untouched”. Memories from weeks ago flood his vision when he had Azriel flipped over on the bed. He should have known the bastard would take his revenge for that sooner or later.

When Azriel thrusts forward again he brings his body with him, forcing Cassian flat to the wall, trapping his wrists with his own hands. Cassian’s cock is aching for attention and being pressed between the wall and his body is enough to have him on the edge.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Azriel whispers into his ear and Cassian’s vision goes white with pleasure as he releases his load onto himself. Azriel is right behind him as Cassian’s ass squeezes him to his release. There’s a moment when the only sound is their heavy panting and then Azriel grips Cassian's shoulders and spins him around. Suddenly Azriel’s lips are on his.

So good baby, always so good for me. Azriel’s voice purrs in his mind.

For you Az. He replies. Too exhausted to open his eyes just yet. He feels a cloth being dragged along his front, cleaning him.

You’re okay? I didn’t hurt you? Concern and fear floods down the bond from Azriel. Even as one of their tamer love making sessions, Azriel is always worried he’s pushed too hard, taken things too far.

Give me some credit Az. He flicks his eyes open and meets the intense gaze of the shadowsinger. You know I’ll take whatever you give me. He lifts a hand to brush along the Illyrians' chin. And I’m more than okay.

————————————————————————

The next day Azriel has laid out his knife collection on the dining room table for polishing. You hate when he polishes weapons where they eat. He doesn’t want you to know how worked up he got about the wing incident yesterday and this is a perfectly indirect way of getting back at you. Of course Cassian is sitting at the end, swinging in his chair with his feet on the table, not wanting to miss a second of the inbound confrontation.

Azriel doesn’t need his shadows to alert him to your footfalls in the hall as you approach.

You let out a small huff and he smirks softly before raising his face to meet you.

“Good morning Y/N” Azriel greets you cheerily.

“Why are you polishing on the table again, Spymaster?” Your eyes narrow at him.

The use of his formal title spurs something inside of him. His retort is on the tip of his tongue when Mor waltzes in.

“Morning!” She announces to the room but strides to your side. “You ready to go?” She holds out a bent arm to you.

“Where are you going?” Azriel tilts his head slightly, caught off guard in his lack of knowledge. There was no indication until now that you had any plans today.

“You didn’t tell them?” Mor looks to you in surprise.

“It’s none of their business.” You smile softly at Mor but hope she catches the wicked glint in your eye that begs her to play along. Thankfully she doesn’t elaborate any further about today's plans.

“Well Windhaven awaits.” She offers you her arm once again and you take it. You both hurry from the room but not before you hear Azriel's quiet questioning,

“Windhaven?”

And the snap of Cassian’s chair returning to the ground.

“Why didn’t you tell them about visiting the female Illyrians?” Mor whispers as you descend the stairs of the House of Wind far enough to pass the wards that restrict winnowing.

“You know they’ll assume the worst, probably worse than the worst.” She giggles at the realisation.

“Good.” You exhale. “They’ve been getting on my last nerve, they deserve it.” You join in with her soft giggles before darkness consumes you both.

“Why is she going to Windhaven?” Azriel turns on Cassian.

“I don’t know you’re the Spymaster, you tell me.” He snaps back.

“I’ve not heard anything. Rhys hasn’t mentioned anything, surely he would send one of us if anything was required there.” Azriel stands and paces along the room.

“Then maybe she wasn’t sent.” Cassian slumps back in his chair and stares absently at the ground. Azriel freezes and spins on his heel.

“If she wasn’t sent, why would she go?” He slams scarred hands down on the dining table.

Cassian flicks his eyes up to Azriel, a look of defeat flashes across his face.

“She did say she was seeing someone.” Cassian murmurs and the room becomes frighteningly still.

“There’s absolutely no way she is seeing a fucking Illyrian.” Azriel stands to his full height, wings shooting wide as he stabs a finger at the doorway you had disappeared through.

Cassian stands and gestures down at himself. “Az, we’re Illyrians.”

“You know what I fucking mean Cass” He strides forward and grasps the war lords shoulders “These are our Windhaven Illyrians, theres no civilised courting, there’s barely civilised conversation. Whoever it is, is going to tear her apart.” He moves his right hand to rest on Cassian’s cheek, letting the panic show on his face and flow through the bond. They’re going to tear our Y/N apart.

Cassian's eyes widen in realisation and fear now flows freely from both ends of the bond. There’s no conversation then, just the scuff of knives being sheathed as they prepare to leave for Windhaven.

————————————————————————

You appear in the middle of the Illyrian war camp and immediately bundle your cloak closer. The wind and snow were so harsh here you don’t know how the Illyrians could stand it. Squinting against the wind you can make out the small cottage that was your refuge just down the path. You give Mor a small nod of thanks and hurry on your way.

Your task today was to try and convince more female Illyrians to step into the training ring. To convince them that even if their wings had been clipped, and they could no longer fly in the legions, it was still worth knowing how to defend themselves. Many of them across the camps were still concerned about backlash even though their High Lord had been personally seeing to anyone who went against his rulings.

You almost reach the corner of the building when you hear the jeers.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnows them onto a small rooftop of one of the dozen semi permanent buildings in Windhaven. They immediately spot Y/N hurrying down the road. They were only a few moments behind her and Mor, as they had the advantage of quickly flying through the ward barriers of the House of Wind before winnowing.

They duck low to remain out of sight and watch as Y/N almost makes it to the small cottage on the outskirts of the camp before the jeers ring out. A group of four Illyrians jostle each other as they make their way over to where she has halted.

Cassian clutches at the metal roof causing it to groan as a low growl rips from his throat.

“If they touch her I’ll carve their hearts out of their chests myself.” He snarls.

Azriel firmly grasps the back of Cassian’s leathers to stop him from taking off.

“Calm yourself, they might be who she is here to see.” Azriel hates that he has to admit it. But now that he is here, has eyes on her, he’s in his element. Lying in the shadows, watching, waiting, that was his forte. Unfortunately Cassian was more act first, ask questions later.

Y/N stands stiffly as laughs ring out from the group. She looks comfortable enough. Her arms relaxed at her side, a soft smile on her lips. But in a moment everything shifts. The male at the front of the group reaches for her and she twists, drawing a blade in the same moment.

Azriel releases his grip on Cassian and launches for the group drawing weapons at the end of the road. He doesn’t know if Cassian has even left the rooftop yet as his fist collides with a stubbled face.

————————————————————————

You twist around, shove a small blade into the side of the Illyrian who lunged at you and stomp a heel into the back of his knee, causing him to fall forward. You catch the blur of another pair of black wings and your heart freezes for a moment. Four young, barely trained Illyrians you had a chance against, but another larger Illyrian joining the fray slashed your chances drastically. You almost fall to your knees when the glint of blue sirens catches the sun. Azriel was here, you don’t know how, but he was here. Suddenly the Illyrian at your feet is ripped from the ground and tossed down the path. Cassian stands in his place.

He reaches tentatively to your face as his eyes scan you widely.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He growls. You blink at him in surprise before replying.

“No, I’m fine.” You confess as Azriel expertly takes down the Illyrians that have turned on him. Cassian’s red siren’s are flaring, his chest heaving in deep breaths and you recognise the panic in his eyes. The panic for you.

“Cassian. I’m okay. You’re here with me.” You reassure him. He begins to relax and gives you a short nod.

“CASS!” Azriel bellows as the last of the group charges directly towards you. Cassian shoves you back and takes the brunt of the hit. Sending both Illyrians crashing through the wall of the cabin.

Suddenly a loud crack rings out across the camp and you swear time slows ever so slightly as Rhysand steps out of the darkness. His deep violet eyes hold none of their usual sparkle. He takes only a moment to assess the situation and strides towards you. He gently takes up your hand like he’s done many times before and nods once to Azriel as darkness consumes your vision.

You land softly on the plush carpet of Rhysand’s study. Seconds later Azriel appears with Cassian.

“Care to explain why I’m about to pay for repairs in Windhaven?” The cool stare of the Night Court’s High Lord falls upon his Illyrian brothers.

Azriel’s wings flare in challenge but you step forward before he can get out his first word.

“Actually, that might be my fault. I got into a little… altercation with some of the Illyrian trainees.” You play down how dangerous the situation really could have become.

“Little?” Cassian questioned. “It was four against one, you were lucky we were there!”

“I had it under control!” You ball your hands into fists at your side. “And why were you even there?”

But it’s Rhysand who replies first. “You went alone?”

You lock eyes with him for a moment, before turning away. You didn’t feel like trying to explain how hurt you had been by Azriel and Cassian’s games lately, that you had just wanted to get a little space. It felt like they were laughing at your poor love life at every turn and just for a moment you wanted them to assume you may have had a suitor. Even in a place like Windhaven.

“You sent her?” Cassian takes a half step forward.

Rhysand’s eyes flick quickly between the three of you. “I need to get back, make an example of these trainees to assure this doesn’t happen again and repair yet another building.” His gaze settles on Cassian. “You three stay here until you figure this out.” He’s gone by the time you turn around.

————————————————————————

“What were you doing in Windhaven?” Azriel folds his arms across his broad chest and leans against the wall.

“Why were you tailing me?” You answer with a question of your own.

“We thought…” Cassian shifts his weight uneasily “We thought you might be meeting with someone who wasn’t… safe for you.”

“Safe for me?” You could feel your blood begin to boil. First the games, now they want to directly meddle in your love life too?

“They’re Illyrians Y/N! They don’t care about you! You're seriously delusional if you think anyone in that camp is worth your time!” Cassian furiously points back towards the mountains outside the study window.

“Right because Illyrian brutes are only good for fighting and fucking!” You throw back at him. Azriel narrows his eyes understanding the insult that was just thrown at them.

“That camp is full of dangerous males! They’d love nothing more than to discard of you when they’re done! If you’re seeing one of them, it's over.” Cassian growls and you see red.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see!” You storm towards him and jab a finger into his chest.

“So you are seeing one of them!” He steps back and throws his arms up. You turn on your heel, heading for the door ready to be done with this conversation for good.

“What does it concern you if I see an Illyrian?” You snarl as you head back towards the door.

“Because it’s not us!” Cassian chokes out and the room immediately stills.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cassian’s thoughts rush down the bond. The fear of his confession mingled with the fear that he’s messed things up with Azriel. That he’ll lose two of the most important people in his life in one fell swoop.

Never. Relax. Azriel tries to soothe him but his heart is also racing out of his chest. Cassian’s confession may as well have been his own. The reason he couldn’t stand to think of Y/N with an Illyrian, or any male for that matter, was because it wasn’t him.

“I’m done with these games.” Tears threaten to prick your eyes but you fight them back. Your heart feels like it’s shattering. You glance over your shoulder, afraid that tears will begin to fall if you turn to face them completely.

“Just because the two of you are happy together,” You see the surprise ripple through them “Doesn’t mean you get to mess with me for fun.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble but you lift your chin in defiance.

“I’m packing my stuff. I’m going to go stay with Mor for a bit, just… leave me alone.” You sign and reach for the door handle.

————————————————————————

As you begin to pull the door open Azriel can feel his heart crack and splinter. The pain and sadness that they have caused you struggles to consume his chest and he doesn’t fight it. He lets it wash over him.

“No.” he gasps, squeezing his eyes closed against the sharp pain that rips through him. As he blinks them open he notices Cassian has stumbled to Rhysands desk doubled over in pain. But when he looks across at you standing in the doorway he sees it. A golden thread splits away from you, towards them both. Glowing just as bright as the one that connects him to the Illyrian warrior.

You stand frozen and wide eyed across from him.

Y/N Azriel takes a tentative step forward, testing the connection down the bond. Cassian straightens but remains silent.

I don’t understand. You blink back and forth between them. You two are…

We are. We have been mates for centuries. Azriel explains as he moves closer.

We can’t lose her Az. I can’t… Cassian’s voice waivers in the back of his mind.

I know. Azriel agrees. You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to unravel this mess, unaware of their private conversation.

Sweetheart, we never meant to hurt you. We were competing for your attention for our own gain and I’m sorry. We never thought for a second that it was the chaffing of a mating bond. I never thought the Cauldron would find me worthy enough of a second bond, they are so rare. Especially with you. I’m so sorry Y/N. If you let me, us, we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. Azriel confesses everything he has as he stands before you. He feels like he just placed his heart in the palm of your hand and is waiting for you to crush it between your fingers as you remain with your head down.

The Cauldron has blessed you with a mate after all… two mates. Males that you have been through so many ups and downs with during these last few years. And surely those years could trump the last few weeks of misunderstandings?

Okay. You lift your eyes to his as tears begin to spill over.

Azriel envelopes you first in his arms and then his wings. It wasn’t the confession he gave you but by the Mother he would take it. He meant what he said. He would do anything to mend what they had broken before they even knew they had it.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnowed you and Cassian back above the House of Wind. The three of you spent the rest of the day and evening discussing what had happened over the last couple of weeks. You confessed how you knew about their relationship. They confessed to their bet. They apologised over and over again. You confessed to catching on to their games early on.

“So you were never actually seeing anyone?”

“No, I haven't even been on a date since before the war.” You laugh and shake your head a little. A wave of jealously rolls down the bond and your eyes flick to meet Cassian’s.

You’d forgotten, for just a moment, about the mating bond. Well mating bonds. Lounging in the sitting room of the House of Wind with Cassian and Azriel felt like any other evening. The same usual banter flowed between you, but now when you took in their breathtaking smiles and low rumbling laughs there was no guilt to chase down your thoughts. You took in Cassian’s leathery wings stretched wide behind his low backed chair. You slide your eyes over his broad shoulders and the corded muscles of his exposed arms, landing on those Illyrian tattoos that you followed in the kitchen all those weeks ago, realising you might get the opportunity to finally follow their full trail across his skin.

Sweetheart Azriel shifts in his seat as his purring voice enters your mind. You might want to work on putting some shields in place. Your focus is pulled back then and you realise Cassian is gripping the armrests of his chair, his chest heaving in deep breaths, pupils blown wide with arousal as he pulls up the side of his mouth in a smirk.

Don’t listen to him baby. He’s just jealous. I was quite enjoying the appraisal. You blink in surprise as Cassian’s gruff voice enters your mind, startled to find that communication could flow openly between the three of you. That would be something you would have to delve into more later. Right now you could only focus on the Illyrian war lord across from you who had hunger rolling off him like a man who hadn’t eaten in months.

At Cassian’s words you realise you haven’t felt anything from Azriel’s side of the bond. Ever the cool, calm and collected one he was probably shielding everything from you right now and you found that it rubbed you the wrong way. You let your eyes fall on the Shadowsinger then, determined to have him drop his walls for you.

His deep black wings rise and fall behind him as he notices your attention. Your eyes trace along the top of his right wing until your attention falls to his throat, the way his adam's apple bobs has you swallowing dryly. You imagine placing your lips to the skin there and a shiver rolls through you. A shadow slides over his shoulder and curls low around his neck, almost vying for attention. You imagine what it would be like to not only have calloused hands pawing at you but smooth shadows as well and that’s when he snaps. His wall drops and his arousal twists and mingles with Cassian’s down the bond.

I thought you might be… opposed to my shadows in that scenario. He admits quietly. But having the bond so open you could easily read between the lines. He thought you might have been afraid of them. Of him.

You don’t scare me, Shadowsinger. You let admiration flow through the bond along with your words. In a blink of an eye Azriel is crowded over you, arms braced on the sides of your chair.

Really? He smirks down at you in challenge. It takes you one breath to recover from his sudden appearance, then you lean forward and place your lips to his neck in a featherlight kiss.

He groans and leans heavier into his arms.

Y/N we want to do this right. The normal way. Take you on those dates we asked you on. Cassian pleads with you. Interesting that when one loses their restraint the other finds it. You wonder if that's the bond at play or if that's just how Cassian and Azriel have always been.

Which part of this has been normal so far? You question as you send memories to both of them down the bond. Flashes of Cassian flirting in the kitchen and Azriel’s lingering touches during training. You also add some moments they’d never seen before; your lingering eyes catching on straining muscles as they spar shirtless in the training ring and the moment shadows led you to the sounds of them together, arousal shooting through you.

The world shifts beneath you then as Azriel lifts you from your chair. You wrap your legs around his waist and then his lips are on yours. There’s no delicacy to the kiss, it’s forceful, bruising, claiming. Soft sheets meet your back and you open your eyes to find Azriel has laid you down in his bed. His mouth moves to your neck, trailing kisses down to your chest before rising off the mattress. Shadows begin to swirl up your arms, replacing the touch of their master, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go for even a second. He turns to Cassian who has taken up residence leaning against the doorway.

“Nice of you to remember that I exist.” Cassian smirks at him. Any guilt you would have felt is quelled as you notice some of Azriel’s shadows linger around the Illyrians wrists and collarbone. Azriel strides across the room and grips the back of his neck.

“As if you’d ever let me forget.” Azriel whispers against his lips and kisses him. The kiss is gentle at first and you can’t help but feel the happiness that radiates from them. You’ve never seen them so open, relaxed and just… them.

Cassian is the first to push it further. Their lips still connected he shoves Azriel back into the room and kicks the door closed with his heel. There are hands in hair, gripping hips, mouths tugging on bottom lips and a soft whine escapes you as you watch your two favourite Illyrians devouring each other. Suddenly two pairs of dark eyes are on you.

Don’t worry baby, we haven't forgotten about you. Cassian's voice enters your mind as he moves towards the bed. He reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head, then climbs over you. He leans down and captures your mouth with his, taking his time to savour the moment. Then he spins, pulling you above him and props you up so you straddle his lap.

Wasn’t there some tracing you needed to do? He grins broadley up at you. You flush slightly at his reference to your errant imaginings but take in the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that wrap around thick muscles. You feel Cassian stiffen and then relax with a sigh as your tongue meets tanned skin. You trail across his shoulder, down his broad chest, pausing only to flick your tongue over a stiff nipple. He bucks up into you with a small moan. You continue down past chiselled abs as you move further down the bed finally reaching the line of muscle that disappears behind his waistband.

He watches you carefully as you begin to untie his pants. Finally you free him, curling your fingers around the velvet wrapped length. Suddenly a memory is forced into your vision. Cassian’s view in the kitchen, watching you devour strawberries dipped in cream. His focus is singular as he watches your tongue swipe up through the cream.

The room comes back to you and you smirk up at him laid back against the headboard before dipping your head down and running your tongue up the underside of him and flicking at his head.

Fuucckkk his moan reverberates in your mind as he throws his head back on the pillow. I’ve been imaging that for weeks and nothing even came close.

His reaction spurs you on and you get to work sucking him into your mouth, exploring with your tongue. You experiment with how deep you can take him and allow your hand to cover any part of the shaft that's not in your mouth. He continues to make small noises as the bed dips beside you. You look up to find Azriel already undressed, Cassian leaves your mouth with a small pop as your mouth falls open.

Oh please, he already knows he’s pretty. We’ll never hear the end of it now. Cassian teases.

Azriel leans forward and grips your chin gently forcing you to sit up.

As much as I was enjoying the show sweetheart, you are wearing far too many clothes. His hand trails down your front and rests at the hem of your shirt.

May I? He cocks his head in question. You nod silently, all words lost to you as your brain swims with arousal.

Words baby. Cassian props himself onto his elbows. There’s so much we want to do with you but we need to know you want it too.

Your eyes flick between Cassian and Azriel. Again surprised to find that Cassian was the one with more control. In the ring, on the battlefield, on a mission, it had always been the other way around. You pull your shirt over your head and reach back, releasing your bra, letting it fall into your lap.

I always thought actions spoke louder than words. You finally reply.

There’s my girl. Cassian reaches out, gripping around your hip, pulling you on top of him once again. And don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough why I’m left in control here. I don’t want to release Azriel onto you just yet. A shiver runs down your spine at the promise behind the words.

Azriel lets out a soft growl behind you as Cassian finds your lips. Suddenly there are hands everywhere. Cassian paws at your chest and rolls your nipple between his fingers, swallowing your moans in his mouth. Azriel positions himself behind you, quickly removing the rest of your clothes with a moan.

So fucking pretty. He runs a calloused hand up your inner thigh and you flush at the image he must be seeing of you bent over Cassian. His fingers run through your folds and settle on the bundle of nerves. You can only focus on not collapsing on top of Cassian under the assault of both Illyrians.

Azriel shuffles behind you and you feel his tongue flick against you and then swirl around you. He gently explores with his fingers, slipping a finger inside you as Cassian begins sucking marks on to your neck, your chest, anywhere his mouth can reach.

As quickly as Azriel’s tongue was on you, it vanishes and it's when Cassian knits his eyebrows together you realise, Azriel is using his mouth to pleasure you both.

While Cassian is briefly distracted you take the opportunity to return some of the marks to his own neck. Azriel then changes tactics and rubs Cassian’s head, slick with precum, against your clit as he adds another finger to the first, stretching you open as he pumps them in and out.

Please. You whine, already so close to the edge. Need you.

Azriel wastes no time as he sits up and lines Cassian up with your entrance. You slowly sink backwards feelling Cassian stretch you open until you sit flush over his hips.

Ride me baby girl, I’m all yours. Cassian purrs and you begin to bounce on top of him. Soft moans escape his lips as you move and you feel like you're glowing from your ability to bring him so much pleasure.

You lean over him, deepening the angle when the room darkens. Azriel leans over you both and whispers in your ear.

“Do you trust me?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Yes” You moan as Cassian slides deep into you again.

Azriel grips your hips and stops your movement as Cassian's length slides out of you, his head hovering at your entrance. Azriel enters you with a snap of his hips. You were glad you were stretched already as you take his large thick length in one quick thrust. He pulls out still holding you steady as he allows Cassian to buck up and enter you again.

They find a rhythm so quickly that you think must only come from being connected for so many centuries. You moan and whimper into the space between Cassian’s shoulder and neck. It feels like there isn’t a moment when you aren’t filled by either of them as they both fuck you hard and fast.

Cassian reaches up and pulls you away from his body so you hover above him.

Want to hear you baby. Want to see you as we make you fall apart. Come for me Y/N.

Your body obeys without you even thinking as you clench around them as they continue to enter you over and over again. When you’ve ridden your high, Azriel backs away enough for Cassian to pump into you a few more times before finishing himself, seated deep inside you.

There’s a few moments to catch your breath as you sit up and then Azriel is back, one hand your hip the other softly wrapping around your neck.

Do you have another one for us sweetheart? For me? The deep rumble of his voice raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Always. You whimper as his hands trace circles across your sensitive skin. He pulls you off Cassian and leans you back against his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He lifts you to enter you from behind again-

No Azriel freezes as soon as the thought enters your mind. You panic realising he thinks you want him to stop. No, Azriel. You lean your head back on his shoulder to meet his eyes. I want to see you, want to touch you.

Azriel’s eyes soften and he lays you on the bed next to Cassian.

Both so pretty. He murmurs as he lines himself up with you, appreciating the view of you and Cassian laid out before him. And mine. A darkness swirls in his eyes at the claiming and a thrill runs through you. Cassian trails his fingers up your thigh as Azriel enters you.

His thrusts are quick and hard. You let your hands explore up his stomach, across his chest and down his arms as sets an unrelenting pace. It isn’t long before you’re on the edge again but Azriel doesn’t give any indication that he’s anywhere near finished with you.

You drove him near mad that day after training. Cassian whispers into your mind. He’s sensitive to touch, I’ll show you where it affects him the most.

Cassian settles in the back of your mind then and gently instructs you to reach out for his wings. You do as he says and brush a hand along the inside of the warm membrane. A growl rumbles through Azriels chest as he tips his head back. You continue to follow Cassian’s detailed instructions learning the places that pull moans from Azriel’s lips.

A few moments later, Azriel is practically panting above you, pupils blown wide as his hips continue to snap into you. You feel your own tension building alongside his own.

Go with him, baby girl. Cassian purrs as he reaches down and presses firmly on your over sensitive clit. You see white behind your eyes as you finish for the second time tonight.

————————————————————————

You're curled between two Illyrian bodies as only the sounds of soft breathing fill the air. You’ve never felt more safe or more satisfied for that matter. You wonder how things are going to be from now on. Whether your bond will remain a secret like theirs has. Laying on your side, you take in Azriel’s sleeping form and wonder what Cassian meant about ‘releasing Azriel’ onto you. Your pulse quickens, imagining all the things the three of you could get up to together. Cassian’s hand tightens on your hip from behind you as Azriel blinks open his eyes. You flush, clearly they weren’t as asleep as you thought.

Cassian leans in to whisper at your ear.

“Firstly, I’m glad you feel both safe and satisfied because that’s what we’re here for.” His nose brushes along your neck. “Secondly, we’ll figure out the bond together. Nothing will be decided without you.”

Azriel leans forward and whispers against your lips. “Thirdly, you’ll learn soon enough what happens when I get to play my way.” He kisses you softly and Cassian trails kisses down your spine. You know for certain the first thing you're going to do is learn how to block these two from your mind.

#cazriel #cazriel x reader #acotar fic #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x azriel

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sapphicantics · 8 months ago

Text

Nightfalls Embrace

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: Regina’s insistence for you to stay the night forces you to tell her about a secret you’ve been hiding.

Word count: 1.4K

— — — —

Regina George is manipulative.

She does whatever she has to in order to get what she wants and she has no qualms about it.

Right now, she wants you to stay the night.

It’s a Friday night so she knows you have nothing to do tomorrow, not to mention it’s like two in the morning so it’s actually a Saturday, and your parents are away on top of that. It’s a perfect situation, if only you weren’t so stubborn.

“Regina, I gotta get home. It’s late.”

“Exactly. It’s late and you’ve been drinking. You’ll be safer here than if you try and drive home.”

You shake your head, a tiny smile rising on your face at her concern. “I’ll be fine, babe. I only had one drink, and I didn’t even finish it.”

It’s absolutely ridiculous how stubborn you’re being about this. This is your safety she’s talking about, nothing else, and she’s not gonna let you risk your life driving home no matter how few drinks you had.

If that means a little manipulation is in order then so be it.

Regina wraps her arms around your neck, her nails lightly stroking along your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands rest on her hips and she gives you that dazzling smile that never fails to make butterflies appear in your stomach before she leans in and presses her lips against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh of content escapes your lips around the kiss. Regina flicks her tongue across your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it to her immediately, a moan slipping from your lips as her tongue slides against yours. She pulls you closer to her, your bodies flush against each others.

Is it wrong for her to be manipulating you like this? Yes, a hundred percent, but it’s for a good reason so it all balances out.

She pulls away from your lips and you take in desperate lungfuls of air while she presses kisses to your cheek. “Will you please stay the night with me, my love?” She whispers, her warm breath caressing your skin. “It would make me so, so, happy if you did. You can hold me and tell me I’m pretty, and in the morning I can order us breakfast from your favorite place.”

This is so unfair. Regina knows what her kisses do to you, knows that you’re practically weak against them and will give in to her wishes if she kisses you long enough before asking. Combine that with the pouty voice that only you get to hear and you’re practically putty in her hands.

This time is no different.

With your head fuzzy from kisses, you don’t realize the words of agreement that slip from your mouth until it’s too late, and by the time you do you’re sitting on the edge of Regina’s bed dressed in a spare set of her clothes while she rummages around in the bathroom preparing for the night.

You jump at a touch on your chin and look up to see Regina staring down at you. You try to give her a reassuring smile, but you’re sure it comes out as more of a grimace and Regina sighs in response, her eyes softening as she speaks. “You don’t actually have to stay if you don’t want to. I can have my mom drive you home and I can bring your car later.”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t want to stay. I just…” you trail off, wiping your hands down your face roughly. “God, this is so stupid, it’s embarrassing.”

There’s a distinct reason you wanted to get home. It has nothing to do with want because the truth is you’ve wanted to spend the night with Regina before, but embarrassment is holding you back. You’ve got a secret and it’s one you’re deeply ashamed of because it’s so stupid and shouldn’t even be an issue.

No one else has this problem, no normal person has this problem. Regina doesn’t have this problem. Why do you? Why can’t you be like everyone else?

Your vision’s starting to blur, you can feel the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but you refuse to cry over this, over something so childish, especially in front of your girlfriend.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to force back your tears, but a soft call of your name has the dam cracking open. The tears escape before you can stop them and Regina cradles you in her arms, your hands clutching her tight to you for the last time because there’s no way she’ll want to stay with you once she finds out how much of a loser you are. You sniffle and release a shaky breath, choking out the words you were planning to take to the grave. “I’m scared of the dark, Regina. I can’t sleep without a nightlight.”

Regina shifts above you and you tense, bracing yourself for her mockery and the inevitable breakup to follow. You know this is going to be in the Burn Book, you can already see it. There’s no reason for you not to be now since you’re not gonna be dating the Queen B anymore. “Babygirl,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry for being such a loser,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, mouth moving faster than your brain can comprehend. The words are escaping as they come to your head long before you can take the time to process them. “I know you don’t want to date me anymore now and that’s okay, I can live with that. I’ll probably never move on, but you can go date someone normal, someone who’s not a baby that-,”

Warm hands on your cheeks tilt your head up and soft lips collide with yours in a gentle kiss. It’s quick and sweet and you don’t really get a chance to reciprocate, but it does its job of distracting you and quieting your brain, giving her a chance to speak. “Breathe, baby, you’re spiraling.” She reaches up, wiping away your tears with the pad of her thumb and slowly, your breathing begins to steady. “There you go, love. Just like that. Now, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

You nod and blink your eyes open to meet hers.

“I love you and you being afraid of the dark is not going to change that. Nyctophobia is a very real fear and your age does not invalidate your feelings like you think it does. Everyone is scared of something, some just hide it better, but that doesn’t make you any less normal.”

“Do you have any fears?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper and for a few moments there’s no answer until finally, Regina speaks up, her voice level matching yours. “Being forgotten.”

You furrow your brows, looking at Regina in confusion. She has athazagoraphobia? Of all the possible fears she could’ve said, you never would’ve expected her to have a social fear, but when you think about it, it makes sense. Everyone bows down to her and follows everything she does so you think it’s natural she’d be nervous about such a thing. Not to mention, her father’s a dick who left her and her mother and sister to have a new family and never spoke to them again like they never even mattered to him; like she never even mattered to him.

Asshole.

You take Regina’s hand in yours and bring it to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her skin. “I’d never forget you, Regina.”

Regina giggles, wiping away the single tear that managed to escape. “I know, Princess, thank you. Now, why don’t you go wash those dried tears away, hm?”

You do so, the cool water against your heated skin making you sigh in relief, and when you emerge from the bathroom, your lips part in shock at the golden galaxy strewn across the ceiling from the night light projector sitting atop Regina’s dresser. A smile spreads across your face at the sight and you can’t help the happy tears that appear in the corner of your eyes as you gaze up in awe, a small laugh escaping because you know she took this from Kylie’s room so you could be comfortable.

Regina’s waiting for you in bed and you crawl in next to her, falling into her waiting arms. You lay your head on her chest, her heart beating soothingly in your ears while her fingers run lightly up and down your side, pulling a gentle sigh from you as your eyes begin to flutter. “Thank you for this, Regina,” you murmur. “I love you.”

Regina presses a kiss to your temple and the last thing you hear before sleep claims you is her soft, “I love you too, Princess.”

#regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regina x fem!reader #regina george 2024 #regina george x reader #regina george x female reader #mean girls 2024

542 notes · View notes

sterredem · 7 months ago

Text

The eras tour

Charles leclerc x reader

[SMAU]

Face claim gracie abrams (again)

Summary going to Paris night 1 with Charles is a lot of fun, with a lot of surprises.

Word count -

Warning hate (just a few comments), spelling errors, not proofread

A/N saw a post saying someone should make this… so I did! I saw the tour on a crappie live stream so I know what was going on… I will also go to the tour!

It’s not the longest but also not the shortest. But I like it!

Also I had no motivation to make the things I am currently making so I decided to make a quick smau (that’s why it is only insta and no other apps)

Don’t forget to comment, repost and give feedback! It helps a lot!

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 225.839 others

Yourusername me rn cause I NEED Taylor Swift tickets but ticketmaster is the worst😭 also creds to my bf for these pics, he is laughing at me while I am STRESSING @Charles_Leclerc

View all 1.836 comments

Charles_Leclerc I said that I’m sorry! I even helped you!

Yourusername YOU DIDNT DO ENOUGH!! I STILL HAVE NO TICKETS!😢

Charles_Leclerc I promise I will make it up to you

Lilymhe For which show are you trying? I have tickets for New Jersey and there is still a spare one!

Yourusername I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! I tried Paris but I was last in the waiting list so there where no more tickets🙁 and sadly I can’t go to the US one’s liked by lilymhe

User1 you’re so real for crying I’ve the tickets. I did too

Yourusername THATS WHAT I SAID! BUT CHARLES JUST LAUGHED AT ME!

User1 you deserve the tickets babe liked by author

User2 Love the memes

User3 is that Leo?!?! Hes so cute!

Yourusername That is! He was my emotional support!

User4 ticketmaster is the villain fr! I was at the beginning and I could almost buy tickets but then i was kicked out!

Yourusername My villain origin story fr! And that’s the wort!

User5 love the hat

User6 you are still so pretty when you cry! How?!?!

Yourusername THANKS! IDK HOW I JUST HIDE MY SADNESS

User 6 HAHAHA REAL

User7 it really is hell! But I got tickets!

Yourusername Congratulations my love!

User8 charles laughing at you is so funny😂

User9 Ew you’re so cringe

User10 I love you

User11 not the pic creds and shade HAHAHA

User12 not her public account being her posting memes😂

User13 don’t understand why Charles is with you

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 392.728 others

Yourusername MY BF GOT ME ERAS TOUR TICKETS!!! I LOVE YOU CHARLIE! Eras tour Paris night 1 here I come!!

View all 3.738 comments

Charles_Leclerc Everything for you mon amour. Even if I need to spend hundreds of dollars for VIP tickets to the eras tour

Yourusername I am beginning to love you more and more

Lilymhe OMG I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!

Yourusername I AM ALSO SO HAPPY!

User1 OMG AMAZING

User2 THE T-SHIRTS? IN LOVE! WHERE DIS YOU GET THEM?

Yourusername They are from the official merch drop from Taylor! I have been a mega fan from the beginning!

User3 OKAY CHARLES UPGRADED TO AN AMAZING BF

User4 even vip?!?! You are spoiled!

User5 I AM ALSO GOING TO PART NIGHT 1!

User6 Will you make friendship brackets? I am also going and want to trade some with you!

Yourusername I will! I would love to trade with y’all!

User7 SO EXITED FOR YOU!

User8 What did Charles say when you got it?

Yourusername he said ‘I have a surprise for you!’ And then he gave me a bag with the box! And then I started crying!

User9 you already have merch? How?!

Yourusername Lily went and got me the shirt!

Uset10 My favourite WAG going to a concert of my favourite artist? Amazing!

User11 with who are you going?

Yourusername Charles is going with me!

User12 so exited to see all the eras content!

User13 Such an attention seeker!

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 527.725 others

Yourusername Congrats on P4 my love! AND TTPD IS SO GOOD! A DOUBLE ALBUM WTF?!?! And here are some of my paddock fits😁 ALSO WHAT ABOUT THE TOUR?!

View all 4.728 comments

Charle_Leclerc Mon chéri… how sweet(?)

Yourusername It is! I am just so exited about Taylor!

Lilymhe YOURE SO RIGHT! I am so jealous that you get to see the first show after the new album!

Yourusername There are always live streams! And she will go to the US again!

User1 HAHAHAH

User2 so real

User3 I love that she can’t post without mentioning Taylor Swift or her Boyfriend! It shows dedication!

User4 Not the Alchemy😂

User5 you’re so pretty!

User6 the two sides? So funny!🤣

User7 I AM FREEKING OUT!

Yourusername SAME

User8 love the fits!

Yourusername Thanks!

User9 the TTPD aesthetic! Loving it!

User10 awwww Leo is so cute!

User11 Could you tell us where you get your clothes from? I love your style!

Yourusername Of course! My most recent posts have the links with them! (Reels from insta and TikTok)

User12 Thank you! You are amazing!

User13 I love how obsessed she is with TS!

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 628.283 others

Yourusername I had a lovely time at the eras tour! Thank you for the very kind people behind me that send me the pics of me and Charles! ALSO THE NEW SETLIST?!?! More pics coming soon!

View all 5.736 comments

Charles_Leclerc for the information; Y/n was crying… a lot

Yourusername YOU VANT BLAME ME! SHE CHANGED A LOT!

Lilymhe I AM SO JELOUS! Liked by author

User1 AHHH I AM SO GSBRNEBDU

User2 OMD THE COUPLE PICS?!?! SO CUTE!

User3 love the taytay pics!

User4 YOURE OUTFIT JS SO CUTE!

User5 Love the hat!

User6 MORE PICS?!

User7 THE NEW SETLIST IS SO COOL!

User8 I WAS THE ONE THAT TOOK THE PIC!

Yourusername THANK YOU SO MUCH!

User9 I tradet with her! She was so nice! And Charles study stood there looking a big lost!

User10 WHAT DID YOU GET?!

Yourusername A fan of Charlie gave me the gift!

User11 Se exited to go myself!

User12 you’re so cute!

User13 You’re not even pretty

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Taylorswift and 1.737.837 others

Yourusername Everyone meet my new friend; Taylor Swift! It was absolutely lovely meeting you! And thank you for the invites😉

View all 172.638 comments

Taylorswift It really was amazing to meet you! I’m glad you enjoyed everything! Liked by author

Charles_Leclerc Finnaly I don’t have to keep this a secret anymore!

Yourusername yeah you’re not the best secret keeper

Charles_Leclerc EXUSE ME?!

Lilymhe WHAT? AND YIU DIDNT TELL ME?!

Yourusername IM SORRY I WANTED IT TO BE A SUPRISE!

User1 OMG SO HAPPPY FOR YOU

User2 THE MIST GORGOYS GIRLS TOGETHER!

User3 YOU MET HER?

User4 WHAT INVITES?!?!

Yourusername 🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

User5 THIS IS SO ICONIC!

User6 LILY AND CHARLES HAHAHHA

User7 So this are the other pics?!?!!!

User8 What happens in the 5th pic??

Yourusername I had a mental breakdown…

User9 not the y/n mansplaining to Taylor’s how max for it with Charles🤣🤣

User10 You are living the dream!

User11 THE NEW SETLIST AND MEETING TATLOR?!?! IM JELOUS!

User12 NEW TAYTAY CONTENT YAY!

User13 You don’t deserve it!

|———————————<3—————————————|

393 notes · View notes

dallaji · 1 year ago

Note

can you do bada lee smut, where bada wants to film while 🤟🏻 with reader HEHE i'm gonna leave the others to u:*

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

WORD COUNT: 5k

CW: exactly what it sounds like tbh!! established relationship, porn without plot, once again giver!bada, filming �� (consensually)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is loosely a part two of this / "Hope we make it to the Cloud". i received these two requests and felt they were alike enough to "combine" the two, hopefully that's ok! 🩷 thanks for the request and hope you enjoy. (ꈍ꒳ꈍ) ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Living alone wasn’t so bad.

When spending a long month performing, interacting with hundreds of people every day and flitting from one schedule to the other, getting to wind down in the comforts of your humble apartment almost felt like a privilege. And as soon as your promotions had ended, you had to take the time to get reacquainted with the place that you called home; time spent away, sleeping in cars or planes, almost made you forget what it felt like to have your own bed.

Sometimes you felt pangs of loneliness, when you were no longer experiencing the rush of backstage and the fleeting interactions with other celebrities, some of whom you now considered friends. The feeling was especially present when you were on break, fighting the urge to get a pet to keep you company on several occasions. Though calling it a “break” was a bit premature, your team always surprising with a last minute schedule on your calendar.

Still, living alone wasn’t so bad when you finally got a break from bright stage lights, sore limbs and buzzing eardrums.

Besides, you aren't so lonely nowadays.

It was the middle of the day and you were watching a game show, feet propped up on the table and hair tied together, when you heard your front door unlock.

“Honey, I’m home,” A tired voice sounded.

Tossing the spare key you had given her a few weeks prior into the little bowl on the table next to the door, Bada entered the room with the nonchalance only a person who spent a lot of time here could have. And well, she did spend a lot of time here.

As you beamed up at her from your seat, Bada was kicking her shoes off: donned in her practice cargos and a comfortable sweater, she looked as effortlessly attractive as ever. If you didn’t know her well enough by now, you would’ve almost missed the metaphorical thunder cloud hanging over her head.

You patted your lap eagerly. “C’mere!”

And with quick shuffling footsteps, Bada made a beeline for where you were seated, first dropping her backpack to the floor with a sigh and then unceremoniously flopping onto the couch, her head snuggling into your lap.

Your hands immediately caressed along her face, fingers gently pushing her bangs aside as you ran them through the pink streaks.

“Long day?” You asked as you fanned her hair over your lap, combing through and detangling the knots.

Her eyes were shut, zoning in on your soothing touches. “Maybe I need a manager,” She muttered quietly, “I don’t know why I thought three choreo sessions in one day would be doable.”

You placed your forefinger between her eyebrows, smoothing over the frown that had started to form there. “Try not to hire mine. Before you know it, three sessions become six.”

Bada laughed at that, eyes opening to gaze up at you affectionately. “Missed you.” She mumbled, head turning to nuzzle into the palm of your hand.

“Is that so?”

She sat up slowly upon hearing your playful words, turning to face you with half-lidded eyes. Leaning in, gaze dropping to your lips, she placed her hand atop your thigh and gave it a firm, meaningful squeeze. “Want me to show you how much I missed you?”

You held your breath expectantly, leaning closer with a barely-there nod as Bada inched towards you to close the gap; she tilted her head and your eyes fluttered shut.

But then, the growling of a stomach sounded through the room.

Bada groaned as you erupted into giggles, shoving her off of you: “Please go eat! There’s some leftover rice and salmon in the kitchen.”

Her disgruntlement faded immediately at your words and she swept down to press a peck to your lips. “You’re the best.”

“I know...” You hummed against her mouth, tugging her down again to steal seconds, feeling self-satisfied when Bada complied without hesitation.

You let her scurry off to the kitchen with a smitten grin plastered across your face.

“Did you finish the routine for that boy group?” You asked, watching her scavenge with your chin propped on the palm of your hand.

Bada dug into the rice cooker as she nodded, already chewing on a piece of salmon: “Yeah, it came together nicely! Wanna see?”

Clasping your hands together, you perked up. “Yes, please!”

“Laptop’s in my bag. All my recent recordings should be on it.”

Bending over to unzip her backpack, you carefully pulled her laptop out and set it on your lap. You heard Bada heat up the remaining salmon as you booted up the computer. Her password was just her birthday, which she had sheepishly confessed to when you were still practicing your choreography together. As you opened her files, a screen popping up with over fifty recordings, Bada came to stand behind you, shoveling food into her mouth as if the bowl would sprout legs and run away from her.

You scrolled through the recordings, which were arranged chronologically, until you noticed a thumbnail with a very familiar practice room.

As your mouth fell open in disbelief, your mouse hovered over the picture of what was undoubtedly Bada hunched over you in front of your practice room’s mirror; both your backs turned to the camera, but the scene all too recognizable.

You didn’t know why, but you felt your lower stomach warm up at the thought of her having kept the recording. You barely registered the audible gasp behind you, and you turned around.

Bada was frozen in her tracks, chopsticks motionless at her lips as she stared at the laptop on your lap.

“Oh my god, I—” She began, eyes searching the room for a place to set her bowl down as your eyes scrutinized her, “I could’ve sworn I deleted that! How did that— How did that get on my laptop?” She was stumbling over her words, and always had been a terrible liar.

You wordlessly navigated to the top of the screen and clicked on ‘Sort by last opened’, the videos reorganizing at your command.

The video was the third one on the list, even though it was over two months old. Once again your stomach curled, face heating up at the implication spread out in front of you.

Bada pressed her lips together in a fine line, face beet red as she was unable to meet your eyes, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil and instead cowering away from you. “I’m sorry, you— you can delete it. I shouldn’t have—”

“I never told you to delete it, back then.” You cut in hurriedly, and it was true, but you felt embarrassed at the words leaving your mouth all the same. “You’ve watched it?”

Bada stared at you in bewilderment, but she nodded, perhaps comforted by your words and thus no longer seeing the point in lying: “Several times.” She admitted bashfully, gaze moving back to the laptop.

You felt lightheaded, briefly imagining Bada alone in her studio with her hand between her legs and her eyes glued to the screen.

“Oh,” You responded, “Why didn’t you...?” Unsure of how you were even trying to finish that sentence, you trailed off.

“We’ve just been so busy…” She said, sounding solemn, leaning over the backrest of the couch as her arms draped themselves over your shoulders. You leaned back into her embrace, your hands curling over her arms.

It was true: between a grueling comeback schedule and the heightening demand for Bada, especially following the release of your single, made it difficult to see each other regularly. Bada had visited you backstage a handful of times, the both of you savoring your short moments together, hungry lips meeting while hiding away in your dressing room, until you were inevitably whisked away for your next schedule. Similarly, you dropped by her studio whenever there was an opening on your calendar, but the curious eyes of her students made it difficult to do much of anything. It was then when you had given her a spare key to your apartment, hoping you could meet each other halfway more often.

“I miss you so much.” She murmured, cheek resting against your temple, and the way she said it left you breathless. It had a hidden meaning to it, clear to no one but you. It almost sounded like a plea with the way she nosed into you.

“You were gonna show me how much you missed me.” You whispered, angling your head to look up at her properly. Her eyes were already on you, gaze heavy. You didn’t have to say the words back to her with the way you looked at her.

She barely gave you a moment to let the words hang in the air before she pressed her lips against yours with a desperate inhale, hand curling over the crook of your neck. The position you were in brought you right back to your first time together; Bada crowding over you with an insatiableness she only reserved for you as your mouths fit together, her warmth washing over you. You felt her nails scrape along the nape of your neck, her lips parting against yours, pleading, as you slipped your tongue past. She hummed pleasantly, lips closing around the wet muscle and sucking as her fingers dug into your hair.

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need of wanting her all over you, the couch separating your body from the comfort of her lean figure, you parted the kiss unwillingly. Before you could beg her for anything more, however, she moved her lips to your neck; immediately sucking a bruise against the unmarked skin. You gasped, instinctively baring your neck for her.

“Bada-” You began, but the words died in your throat as the tip of her tongue circled the mark.

“Click on the video.” She spoke in a hushed voice and only then did you become cognizant of the laptop resting on your lap, cursor still hovering over the video. “Fast forward a bit.”

With your eyes locked onto the screen and without moving your head, afraid you would lose the warmth of her mouth against your skin, you did as you were told; skipping through the recording until you found the exact moment Bada had turned you around, her chest pressed against your back. The sounds that came from the laptop speakers after you unpaused the video were sinful: the smack of lips gliding together and your quiet gasps as Bada smoothened her hands along your figure. You were feeling overwhelmed already and the two of you had barely done anything.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bada spoke as she watched the video from over your shoulder, still pressing soft kisses against your neck.

You could say the same about her with the way she was, and still is, able to command your body like an instrument. You were putty in her hands then and now, turning whichever way she conducted you.

She straightened her back slightly, looking down at you as her hands lowered to your front. In tandem with the Bada in the video, she found the hem of your shirt and pulled upwards, your arms raising to aid the process. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the cool air of the room made a shiver run down your spine. Bada, however, was delighted, warm hands immediately cupping over your breasts.

You craned your neck, chasing after her lips and she let you indulge: with your head tilted backwards your tongues met before your lips did, Bada angling her head to deepen the kiss impossibly more, fingers pinching your nipples inquisitively and stiffening them. You were sensitive straightaway, gasping into her mouth.

Then, an idea. Your fingers managed to find the space button and pressed, effectively pausing the video. Bada parted the kiss reluctantly, curiously peeking at the screen before looking down at you.

“Do you have your camera with you?” You asked, voice breathless.

She blinked at you in wonder but nodded: “Yes, in my backpack.”

You gave her a suggestive look, hands coming up to rest atop hers; still covering your breasts. “Do you… want to film a new one?”

You hoped you hadn’t misjudged Bada, and for the few seconds she was silent you feared you had ruined the atmosphere, but that feeling didn’t last long. The look she gave you was nothing short of infatuated.

Bada smiled, albeit entirely flustered, before giving you another kiss and you sighed in relief. She walked to her backpack, where it still laid on the floor, and began searching through it for the camera. As you shut the laptop and moved it off your lap, Bada reemerged with the familiar device.

The display was already flipped open, Bada’s fingers fiddling with the buttons with an almost childlike excitement that made you giggle. She looked up at you as if breaking out of a daze, and softened instantly at the sight of you: topless and patiently waiting for her. She lowered the device.

“You’re certain you’re okay with this?” Her eyes looked into yours, searching for any hints of doubt or apprehension.

“More than okay,” you assured, “Just tell me what to do.”

And as soon as the words had left you, Bada hit record. “Be you.”

She slowly walked around you, angling the camera as her eyes were glued to her display, taking in your appearance with the delicacy of someone who practiced this often enough in their head. You were starting to feel skittish, despite her attention on you almost feeling reverent, and fought the urge to cover yourself up.

Instead you crossed your legs, head tilting to the side as you looked straight into the lens of the camera: “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to keep your distance the whole time.”

You heard the buzzing sound of the lens zooming in on you, though you had no clue what exact part of you it was focusing on. “That would be impossible when you look like this, baby.”

The nickname, which was usually reserved for when the two of you spent time tangled up in each other, visibly flustered you. You sucked in your lower lip to hide a growing smile and glanced down, Bada smirking at your reaction.

“Trying to set the scene for my future self.” Bada added meaningfully, and the implication made you feel warm.

She strode over towards you, eyes still focused on the camera display as she sat down on the table in front of you. You followed her movements intently, anticipating whatever request was burning on her lips. But instead of asking anything of you, Bada wordlessly nudged her knees in between your thighs, forcing your legs apart, and you adhered.

“Take your pants off.” She commanded and virtually immediately your hands dropped to the waistband of your trousers, tugging it below your hips. You would have time to ponder how embarrassing your submission to her was later, but for now you wanted to give her everything she asked for.

With her unoccupied hand she helped you pull the fabric all the way off, with an almost impatient tug, and you made sure to stretch your legs as elegantly as possible, doe eyes never losing track of the lens; hyper aware of the camera following your every move as if this were just another music video recording.

You let your hands slide up your thighs, fingers momentarily hooking into the straps of your panties before snapping them against your skin. Bada angled her camera, tracking the movements of your hands intently as her tongue peeked past her lips; wetting them. The palms of your hands moved along the curve of your waist, trailing them higher and higher, until you were pushing your breasts together ever-so-slightly. Then, you brought one hand behind your neck and leaned back into the couch. Your other hand dropped back to the strap of your panties, toying with the fabric between your fingertips, granting a sneak peek for the skin underneath - not that there was much more left to the imagination.

For a moment Bada’s eyes moved away from the display, zoning in on your ministrations, and then she leaned back herself, the movements forcing your thighs further apart by the dull push of her knees against yours.

“You’re a natural.” Bada said teasingly, but remained cemented in her spot, much to your frustration.

You pulled the strap of your underwear below your hip, blinking up at the lens through long eyelashes, and pressed your crotch down into the couch. Subsequently, you slid your hand to your front, fingertips digging below the waistband of your panties; your eyes never losing track of the lens. You went lower and lower, gauging the taller girl’s reaction.

Once again you heard the noise of the lens zooming in, and your fingers finally found the top of your heat. You were already wet, spreading your folds with a quiet hum, and began lightly rocking against the fabric of the couch. The friction made you gasp, the thrill of your predicament making you feel increasingly more responsive to any touches.

Bada parted her lips, watching on in awe. “Take those off.” Her voice was almost uncharacteristically deep, dripping with want.

And because you knew her well enough to know she couldn’t hold off for much longer, you gave her the most coy look you could muster and answered: “Come do it yourself.”

The sound of the table moving backwards echoed through the living room, Bada using her body to push it away. You didn’t cease your movements however, dragging your crotch against the couch again as you watched Bada in anticipation. She had placed the camera on top of a stack of books lying on the table, pointing the lens at you in a sideways angle, and stepped towards you. She towered over you before pulling her sweater over her head, and you watched as her slender frame appeared; still touching yourself. She was unbelievably pretty.

Then, she dropped to her knees, arms hooking under your legs as she pulled you to the edge of the couch in such a sudden motion you couldn’t help the soft yelp that fell from your lips. Her thumbs hooked under the straps of your underwear and pulled them off brusquely, leaving you completely bare in front of her.

She settled in between your thighs like she belonged there and leaned up, her hand on the side of your neck as she brought you in for a hungry kiss. The noise you made was desperate, but she silenced it immediately by plunging her tongue into your mouth; licking into it with a groan. Your fingers tangled into her hair, clinging onto her as your body begged for more, tongue gliding back against hers through parted lips.

Bada cupped your jaw tightly as she swallowed the sweet noises you made, and parted the kiss to catch her breath; your own chest rising in exhilaration. Her thumb trailed along your bottom lip, moist from saliva, and pulled it down: “Just look pretty for me.” She muttered.

With that she slid down your body, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck and to your cleavage, her hands feeling along the shape of your upper thighs, squeezing them. You felt your lower stomach curl when her lips pressed to your navel, and you put your arms at either side of your body; palms pressing into the couch as you gave your body away to her.

Her thumbs pressed into your hip bones when her mouth got closer to your core, but she immediately pivoted to the inside of your thigh, teeth grazing the skin before parted lips began to suck down a bruise.

Your head lolled to the side, letting out another soft gasp as her lips covered every area except the one where you needed her the most. You were going mad, wondering if you should start begging.

Her eyes met yours and she had the audacity to smile, a happy glow dusting her cheeks as her fingers dug deeper into the skin of your thighs. She pressed another openmouthed kiss near your hip bone before speaking: “Anything you want me to do?”

Your hand automatically moved in between your legs, but Bada stopped you with a firm hold on your wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, “I’m directing here. Tell me what you want.” Her gaze was intense, smile growing wider as you grew more flustered, thighs twitching.

“I—” You began, struggling to find the words, “I want you to touch me. However you want.”

“However I want?” She tilted her head to the side, feigning confusion in a sweet voice.

“With your hands.” You added quickly, something in you stirring at the way her grip on your wrist remained resolute. “Please, I need it so bad.” More words escaped you before you could dwell on the humiliation: “I’m so wet for you.”

The look in Bada’s eyes darkened as she placed your hand back onto the couch, grabbing onto your thigh once again. She looked down at your glistening heat, momentarily sucking in her lower lips before meeting your eyes again. “For me?” She asked again, knowing the answer well enough.

“Only for you.” You near whimpered, and she finally released you from your misery.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she lapped at her fingers before promptly lowering it to your vagina; spit-slicked fingers moving along your folds to spread your wetness with a purpose as her other hand held down your thigh, making sure you kept your legs apart for her. A groan of relief escaped you before you could realize and you bit down on your lower lip, feeling her explore. You heard her suck in a breath between her teeth as you glistened underneath her, marveling.

You felt yourself get impossibly more wet from her touch, and Bada immediately took advantage of that. She started to rub against you in slow, circular motions as your hips involuntarily jerked from the sensitivity. With a soothing shush, her grip on your thigh tightened as she let her fingers dig into your folds with more pressure, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“I’m starting to think you like begging.” Bada whispered longingly, fingers that knew exactly where to be circling against you with a deepening pace.

Unable and unwilling to answer, you brought a hand up to your mouth and pushed two fingers past your lips; you sucked around them, muffling your moans. The look Bada gave you was simply ravenous, and you then realized you were here to put on a show for her camera. Her thumb brushed down against your clit, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure, the ministration sending electric shocks across your lower belly as you were unable to stop your hips from rutting into her touch. You withdrew your fingers from your mouth and brought them to your breast, rolling your nipple under them.

You heard the taller girl cuss between your thighs, her fingers dropping lower as she followed the noises you made; spurring you on. Then, you felt her forefinger catch at your entrance, drawing circles around and all you could do was hold your breath.

Bada sank a finger into you, slow enough that the burn wasn’t overwhelming you, but you moaned all the same. She tentatively crooked her finger inside of you, intently watching your reactions, the grip she had on your thigh almost bruising. She began pumping her finger in and out of you, not too fast but fast enough to have you gasp her name, rewarding every honeyed moan with a curl of her finger.

“More…” You begged, toes curling.

“Yeah?” She whispered, pressing a kiss right where your inner thigh and core met before handing you exactly what you wished for.

Her middle finger pushed into you along with her index finger, and this time you felt the stretch more acutely. You audibly keened, nails digging into the fabric of the couch as she scissored her fingers inside of you, whispering soft praises encouraging you.

“That’s it, baby, let me make you feel good.”

Soon enough the burn was barely present, making way for an electrifying bundle of pleasure running up your spine. You rocked into her touch as much as Bada’s iron grip on you allowed, and she met you halfway, fingers pumping in and out of you at a steadily building pace.

The way she looked up at you was maddening: somewhere between wondrous amazement and self-satisfied smugness, drinking in every second of the way you opened up to her in more ways than one. She gave a sharp curl of her fingers, and your thighs twitched dangerously. Bada caught on immediately and began moving her fingers inside you in a come-hither motion, pulling every sweet noise from you that she could. You thrusted down harder, mouth agape as you zoned in on the ecstasy that overtook you.

“Third finger, baby girl.” And you somehow found a way to part your thighs almost impossibly further, your body eager to receive more.

While her two fingers were still curling inside you, the third one joined, and you choked on a moan. This time Bada didn’t give you time to get used to the stretch, as all three fingers curled inside you over and over again.

Feeling overwhelmed almost instantaneously, hushed cusses spilling from your mouth, you inadvertently wriggled backwards; but Bada immediately pulled you back, keeping you locked in place as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. She knew your body too well, because soon enough you had your head thrown back and thrusted back into her motions, her long fingers finding the spot to curl into.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She mumbled, and before you knew it her mouth was on you, tongue digging between your folds as she continued pumping her wrist.

With her arm still curled around your thigh, she brought you closer to the edge of the couch; she wanted to dig in. Her name came out as a yelp as her lips closed around your bundle of nerves, sucking harshly as her moans began to reverberate against you. You brought a hand to the back of her head, fingers digging against her scalp as you held her in place, needing unfathomably more from her. Anything she was willing to give.

She swallowed around you so eagerly, so greedily, and then her hand let go of your thigh: she brought it between her own legs instead, fingers digging into her trousers.

You had to force yourself to look away or you would orgasm right then and there, feeling your eyes roll back instead. She was touching herself, rocking into her own hand as her mouth bobbed against you; her other hand still fucking into you. She was getting off to getting you off.

You thought you were going insane, only able to give into your instincts and rock into her movements, all the while pulling on her hair which she seemed to relish in: the both of you building up to a pace where she pushed in exactly as you thrusted. You felt your toes curl again as that familiar pressure in your lower stomach began building up, and your head lolled to the side. You were a sweaty, writhing mess, and Bada was moaning against you so loudly it made you lightheaded.

You noticed her own movements getting messier, too. Her wrist circled against herself as she slurped around you, and you brushed her bangs from her forehead to watch her own desperation overcome her. She curled her fingers inside of you again just as she sucked down on your clit, and you could've sworn you saw stars.

“Bada, I—” You began, warningly, as you fucked back against her, chasing after the uncoiling of your lower stomach.

Bada hummed encouragingly, nodding against you in a frenzied state herself and crooked her fingers sharply, beckoning you to let yourself go.

Something about the way she gasped and moaned against you, yet still remained so dedicated to give you exactly what you wanted, is what did it for you. You felt your orgasm ripple through you so sharply you felt dizzy. You clutched onto Bada’s head between your thighs as you shook all over, her fingers curling into you harshly as she sucked on your clit through your implosion, until you felt her tremble against you too.

She fell forward, teeth pressing down on the inside of your thigh as she came with your name on her lips, rutting into her hand. You moaned, sensitive all over but running your hands through her hair soothingly, nails caressing along her scalp.

The both of you stayed like that for a solid minute, catching your breaths, until Bada leaned up on her trembling knees; far enough to wrap her arms around your waist and lean up for a tender kiss. Completely smitten, you kissed back despite the heaving of your chest and you wordlessly urged her to get on the couch with you. The taller girl obliged, immediately climbing on top of you and nuzzling into your hold with a tired smile, her cheek pressed against your collarbones.

The both of you giggled at nothing in particular, your fingers tracing delicate lines along the side of her face.

As if experiencing a déjà vu, your eyes went to the camera perched on the table, inevitably recording, but the both of you too spent to do anything about it.

“You know,” you began, fingertips still absentmindedly caressing along Bada’s jawline, “You’re gonna need a better password for your laptop.”

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee smut #dalla!writes #requests #ask

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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months ago

Text

Reality Sinks In

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: relationship angst, fluff

Summary: You and Bucky get a taste of normalcy in Italy where he goes to work and you spend his money. He will do anything to see you smile but he's quickly reminded of the fact that your smile can be easily taken away.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: always (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

After that conversation with Bucky, you became more suspicious about what he did for work. There was only one way you were going to get answers and that was if you got them yourself. You hated doing this to Bucky because you loved him so much. You should have trusted him if he said there was nothing to worry about, but there was something nagging at you in the back of your mind.

Something wasn’t right.

You took one of your old Air Tags and placed it inside his trunk underneath his gym bag. Wherever he went, you’d know about it. Bucky allowed you to stay inside his mansion while he left for business knowing there were guards here to make sure you don’t go in places you weren't supposed to go in.

You pulled up the app for the Air Tag inside his car to see he was already on the move. You grabbed your purse and headed out. You order an Uber and put in a random address just so the driver would have something concrete to charge you with. When he got there, you hopped into the front seat.

“I know this isn’t customary but I need you to follow this Air Tag, please. I’ll pay you two hundred bucks,” you said and showed him the money so he knew you had it.

“Done,” he shrugged.

You placed your phone on his hook so he could see Bucky’s movement. The map took you all the way to the other side of town. The only thing on this side of town was an old warehouse. Why was Bucky here? The driver pulled up to the warehouse and you got out of the car.

“If you wait here, I’ll tip you an extra hundred. I’ll be right back.”

“You got it.”

Bucky’s sleek black Maserati was outside with three other Range Rovers that Bucky’s men drove. You snuck inside the warehouse and immediately heard screaming coming from upstairs. You slowly walked up the stairs in fear that you might be caught if you made too much noise. On the second story, you approached a room that didn’t have a door. Whatever this room was, the door had been smashed to pieces either from vandalism or by homeless people.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?”

That was Bucky’s voice. What the hell was he doing here? You peeked your head through the open doorway and saw a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His face had cuts and bruises, blood soaked his clothes, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Bucky’s men stood around the man with guns while Bucky was right in front of him with his sleeves rolled to his elbows.

“I swear, I don’t know anything, man.”

“You want to know what I do to people who lie to me?”

Bucky pulled his fist back and punched the guyy so hard that you heard his bone crack under the pressure. You put your hand to your mouth as tears came to your eyes. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew. Bucky was kind and loving, not brutal and dangerous.

“Tell me who your boss is and I’ll make your death quick and painless,” Bucky ordered. The man refused to give Bucky what he wanted, and Bucky didn’t have time for this. “I got a girl waiting for me at home who I’d rather be with. Don’t keep me waiting.”

When the man didn’t answer, Bucky took out his gun and aimed it at the man’s head. The man started crying in fear but Bucky spared him no mercy. He shot him twice in the head. You jumped back from the impact and let out a startling cry. Bucky and his men turned toward the sound, and Bucky locked eyes with you.

“Shit, Y/N!”

You didn’t hear him because you were already running away from him. The Uber you ordered was still down there like you asked him to, and you hopped back into the car and wiped your tears.

“Just take me back home.”

“Are you okay?”

“I need you to step on it.”

You wanted to get back to his mansion before Bucky did. When you did, you threw the money at the man, thanked him, and sprinted toward the house. You packed whatever you could with the hope that you’d be out of the house before Bucky came back, but luck wasn’t on your side.

“Y/N, please, wait--”

“Get away from me! Don’t come near me!”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you what I did.”

You turned to him with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You’re a murderer! My parents are Christians. Imagine what they’d think of you!”

Bucky stood up straight and hardened his look.

“You knew what you were signing up for the second you gave your body to me.”

“God, being in a relationship isn’t meant to be this exhausting! I can’t keep waiting around for you to come home, what secrets you want to keep from me, and if I’ll get in trouble for going into your damn office! You’re hurting people, Bucky!”

“This is the life. Take it or leave it.”

Bucky left your room but you didn’t think twice about what to do next. You finished packing and left his house with the intention of never returning again.

Now

You’re about to leave for Italy when you decide to double-check your list just to make sure you have everything. Clothes, makeup, hair products, hair curler, bathroom stuff, pajamas, etc. You walk by the front door and notice a brown box outside on the porch. Weird. There isn’t a note or anything on the outside but your name is written in beautiful script writing.

You take the box inside and open it without thinking it could be dangerous. Inside is a note and the beautiful dress you and Gio made together.

The dress was made for you. You should have it. - Gio

Oh, Gio. You quickly put the dress in your suitcase before Bucky comes down. You toss the boxes next to the ones you got from Amazon hoping he’ll think it’s from Amazon. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of Bucky in a three-piece suit. It makes you want to rip it off him and take him back upstairs.

“You’re staring,” he smirks.

“You’re very hard not to stare at.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky takes the suitcases to the car while you pull out your phone to text Gio. You feel bad for bailing on his college party but how can you resist Bucky’s offer to Italy? You don’t Gio to feel like he’s second best, so you come up with a little lie about why you can’t go to the party.

You: Hey, Gio! I feel so bad about this but an emergency came up, and I won’t be able to make it to the party this weekend. Gio: Hey, no worries! Maybe we can hang out after? You: Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe when I get back in town.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, coming.” Bucky drives you to the airport where his personal jet is waiting. “Wow, I’ve never been on a private jet before.”

“You can have all this and more,” Bucky grins. Sam takes the suitcases and brings them to the jet. “Any weekend, anywhere in the world. You name it, you’re there.”

“You’re making all this go to my head,” you blush. “Before you know it, you’ll be taking me all around the world every weekend.”

“I hope you use it that way.”

He escorts you into the jet while Sam and Steve get it ready for takeoff. Once they join you inside, the pilot taqkes off. One of the female flight attendants brings over a flute of champagne, and you take it with a smile.

“Thank you.” You turn to Bucky who is right across the small aisle. “So, why are you going to Italy?”

“I need to take care of some business.” At the word “business” your smile falters. “Before you overthink this, I’m going to negotiate terms on opening a branch in Italy. I’m meeting with the owner of the building I want to buy.”

“Okay, okay,” you chuckle nervously. “I’m assuming this meeting isn’t going to take all week so what else do you have planned?”

“Whatever you want.”

You hum in thought and smirk when a few ideas come to mind.

“Dinner overlooking the Eternal City?”

“Yes.”

“Shopping in Milan?”

“Only if you promise to spend a lot of money.”

“What if I wanted to stay in bed all day with you?”

“If you’re going to do that, you’re going to be naked the whole time,” he smirks. You blush darkly and look at Sam and Steve who have yet to look at you. “I once promised you the world. I’m just holding onto that promise.”

It’s not enough you took a private jet to Italy but Bucky had to get the most expensive room at the most expensive hotel in Italy. The room is covered in gold--golden and white walls, a beautiful California King bed on a platform, a big bathtub in the middle of the bedroom that can fit two people, a balcony overlooking the city and waters below, and a full kitchen. This place is more expensive than you made in an entire year.

“Wow, this room is beautiful.”

“Listen, I made the meeting first thing so we could have the rest of the week together. I gotta go. Sam and Steve are in the next room if you need them or if you want to go somewhere. I will be back in time to take you to dinner.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Bucky grabs the sides of your face and kisses you deeply. Bucky leaves before he’s tempted to take you to bed, and you admire the room some more. You’re in fucking Italy! Of course, you’re going to go shopping here. The bathroom is as big as your bedroom back home. This is all so surreal. This is nothing like what you had growing up.

You spend two hours inside the bathroom pampering yourself before getting dressed in a light blue flowing dress that goes past your knees and a pair of cute heels. Steve and Sam escorted you to the nearest mall where you immediately fell in love with the stores available. You have Bucky’s shiny black Amex card in your purse that’s begging you to use it, and who are you to deny that?

Shirts, shoes, makeup, pants, dresses, lingerie, perfume, and more are in bags that Steve and Sam are carrying for you. All things you don’t really need but want. You might be buying all this knowing Bucky is seeing all the transactions on his bank app, and that is giving you motivation to buy more. You just bought a Louis Vitton purse and Christian Louboutin shoes when your phone rings.

“Yes, may I help you?” you answer Bucky’s call.

“I see you’re quite the spender today.”

“Well, you’re not here to make me feel better. This is the next best thing.”

“I can’t wait to see what you bought. I’ll need you to try them all on for me.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry, I got something for you.”

“I already have everything I want. You.”

Bucky sure does know how to make you blush like a schoolgirl.

“You know how to make a girl swoon.”

‘I know how to do more than that,” he smirks.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get back to?”

Bucky chuckles. “See you tonight, Doll.”

After spending another hour shopping, you felt bad for Steve and Sam who carried all of your bags. When you get back to the hotel, you take the extra two hours to get ready. You decide to wear the dress you and Gio made since you’re proud of the design and love how it looks on you. To match the dress, you wear your new Louboutins that are sleek black like Bucky’s card. You step out of the elevator onto the floor where the lobby is. Bucky is waiting with Steve and Sam with his back to you. Sam’s eyes meet yours causing Bucky to turn to see what his trusted friend is looking at. Bucky’s eyes go slightly wide, his mouth drops open a bit, and his pupils dilate because he’s in love with what he sees.

“Wow, you’re just stunning,” Bucky smiles.

“You clean up nice,” you blush.

Bucky takes you to La Pergola, one of the most expensive restaurants in Italy overlooking the Eternal City just like you wanted. Bucky must know the owner because he takes you to the balcony where there are no other people. You should have known he’d buy out the entire section just so you could eat by yourselves. The waiter brings out the wine menu which you take to look over.

“Where did you get that dress?” Bucky asks. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I made it in class with my partner. He let me have it.”

“He?”

“Yeah, Gio. The guy you met at lunch last week.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “When did he give it to you?”

“I found a box on the front porch before we left.” There’s something dark and dangerous about the look in Bucky’s eyes. “No, please don’t do this. Not here. Not now.”

“Fine,” he nods after a moment.

Bucky will let it go for now but he will definitely be upping security. No one would have been able to leave a box on the front porch without him knowing.

“So, you made this dress?”

“Yeah. I want to make my own clothes and have my own brand. I’d love to see millions of people wear my clothes.”

“I bet you’d be able to showcase your work in Milan during fashion week.”

“I wish,” you smile. “Maybe one day.”

Since the chef also knows Bucky, he gives a discount on the meal even though Bucky asks to pay full price for everything. Bucky ordered the seafood platter while you got the steak and lobster. Both meals were absolutely delicious, especially the chocolate lava cake. Since Bucky didn’t pay full price for the meal, he tipped three hundred dollars extra. You’re not used to such luxury but Bucky isn’t shy when it comes to money.

Afterward, you and Bucky decide to walk around the Po River that flows through Italy. The lights alongside the river make the night glow with the light of a thousand fairies. It’s all so romantic. Bucky knows Steve and Sam are following loosely behind you two but he ignores them since the most important person right now is you.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky asks.

“How I wish every day could be like this.”

“It can.”

No, it can’t. Not as long as Bucky does what he does for work. There are plenty of people who would see past the murder but how can you? You love life and you think everyone should value their life. Bucky takes it away like it’s nothing. You don’t want to ruin the moment so you don’t say anything about it.

You two stop at a small clearing that overlooks the river, and Bucky pulls you close by your hips. He slides his hand into your hair and holds you steady before kissing you. He makes you feel so alive. He makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. Why are you so conflicted about this? Why can’t you seem to be okay with this dangerous part of him?

Bucky pulls away from you and notices something behind you. He sees two men standing across the river in black suits with the faint outline of guns strapped to their sides.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing. It’s time to go back to the hotel room.”

Bucky pulls you away gently, but you look behind you to see the two men.

“Who are those men?”

“No one.”

“Then why are you rushing me out of here?”

“Y/N, come on. We need to go.”

You stop walking and yank your arm out of his grasp.

“No, who are those men? What is going on?”

“Doll, I have a lot of enemies here. I’d rather not let them see you.”

That’s why you can’t let it go. That’s what breaks your heart. It doesn’t matter where Bucky goes, you two can never be normal. You allowed yourself to get caught up in this moment but reality stings when it sets in.

It hurts to love Bucky. It’s making you bleed, and you don’t know how much blood you have left to give.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fan fiction #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel fic

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sunalee · 3 months ago

Text

jam to my heart — Jay

summary: The handsome guitarist set his eyes on you, and lucky for him, you did the same.

with: Jay (Park Jong-seong)

warnings: rockstar au!, enhypen as a band, jay is a smooth fella, he's charming enough to make my cheeks warm.

a/n: jay with a guitar is such a perfect sight i can't even ratiocinate. Some of the boys aren't metioned, but they're still part of this au.

“C'mon _____, let’s stay on the front so we can see them better!”

Ami calls you out, dragging you through the ’90s themed new pub you’re visiting, “Cords and Jam”. The place is really cool, with black and white checkered floors, red walls with various themed lamps, and posters of classic rock bands. The staff is very friendly, not to mention the drinks and snacks that make you want to spend your whole wallet there.

But the reason you’re here it’s the almost one-year hiatus, not having seen any live show since this period. You miss this environment, the thrill of waiting for the next band to perform, and even the sound check that the musicians do five minutes before the music starts.

Ami told you about this band tonight, Orange Blood. You haven’t heard anything from them yet, but they’re really known on social media for their impressive covers, skilled talent, and very, very, good-looks.

Rock is great, but a handsome guy playing makes the experience one hundred times better.

She drags you to the front as you both get your bubbling drinks, fortunately not having too many people blocking your path. You don’t mind being in the back of the room, it’s even better to dance there, but you won’t lie, it’s so exciting being right close to the stage, even with the frenetic heartbeats that make you want to take another sip of the drink.

The band finally arrives, five handsome men in their twenties coming in front of the stage. The crowd shouts excitedly, you join them with your own hollering.

“Good night, everyone! I’m Jake, and we are the Orange Blood!” The blonde lead singer announces, a cheeky smile appearing on his face as he hears the crowd’s euphoric cheers.

The drummer, a dark-haired lad with side shaved haircut and looks of a runaway teen, taps four times the drum sticks together, a cue for the other instruments to start playing as well. On Jake’s left side, there’s the keyboard player and the bassist, the two with similar features and exhaling confidence. You heard around their names were Sunghoon and Heeseung.

But it’s the guitarist on the right side of Jake who catches your attention; suddenly, he’s the only thing you can focus on.

Not only for his great solo at the beginning, but his very charming personality. The way his fingers pluck the strings with such mastery, as if it were as eyes as breathing, his built arms taken by cool tattoo shapes matching with his dark, medium hair, his thin and well cared lips that forms a pleasing smirk whenever he hears a praise from the female crowd.

And when you hear his smooth, deep voice singing on his microphone, your legs almost give out.

It’s like this man put a spell on you, taking you to a place without time, space or circumstance, all your senses fixed only on him, mind navigating and daydreaming about different scenarios where he’s the main star, and you, his forever partner.

The show was a blast. Everyone had the time of their lives, and Orange Blood for sure would receive a lot of invitations after this concert. The mysterious guitarist wipes his sweating forehead after waving at the crowd, his black regatta clinging on his torso and making him look even more attractive. Unfortunately, he moves away with the rest of the crown, sparing one last glance before going.

That glance goes directly on you.

You don’t know what to think about it, your heart racing and mind numb from the unexpected moment, but before you can try to come up with something, Ami is dragging you by the hand again, leading you to the bar.

She tells you that she’s going to call her friend outside and would be right back. “Don’t accept drinks from strangers” was the last thing she said before leaving. You decide to order another drink, sitting on a free stool there.

You start wondering about what that gaze meant, the sweet flavor of your pinky lemonade helping your mind work even with the pub buzz. But you focus so much on your thoughts, that you don’t notice the main problem right in front of you, brown eyes staring at you with amusement.

“Pinky lemonade? Sweeter than I thought you would be, huh?” That smooth, dreamy voice wakes you up, making your heart suddenly flips as you finally realize who just sat beside you. He gives you another one of his charming smirks, supporting his jawline on his hand while he extends the other in your direction. “Jay. A pleasure.”

“______.” Best say your name right away than rambling trying to come up with a sentence. “I-It’s nice to meet you too. You played amazing tonight.” You can’t help but blurt your thoughts.

“You think so?” He tilts his head, looking even more interested now, his eyes following you like a cat gazing at its prey.

You bite inside your mouth, feeling uneasy but not in a bad way. “Yeah, totally.” You nod to your own sentence. Jay tries to hold back a chuckle. “Uh, shouldn’t you be in your dressing room after playing?”

“And lose the party? What’s the fun in that?” He questions, raising his pointer finger to call the barman. “Same thing she’s having.”

Now you can’t help your chuckle. “Are you a sweet man too?” Your interest wins your nerves, showing Jay your playful side that he’ll surely enjoy in the future.

“I don’t like getting drunk. Especially not when I’ve just met a pretty girl like you.” He flirts without shame, making you swoop into his charm so easily that you even forget that you came with Ami here. Not that she wouldn't support you, anyway.

“I don’t know If I should be flattered.” But you’re not hooked enough to be fooled. Whatever this man wants with you, you want to figure it out now.

He gives you a knowing smile, as he just reads you like an open book in front of him. His pinky lemonade comes just in time for his answer, his hand holding the glass but not taking his brown eyes off you.

He wants you to know that feeling too.

“You should be.” He answers honestly, self-confidence boosting around him. “ It’s not every day that I set my eyes on someone special.” He moves to click his glass with yours, taking his time to take a small sip of his drink before leaning close to you, gaze and smirk never faltering.

“And when I find someone special, doll, I don’t lose my chance.”

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rowdyluv · 2 months ago

Text

summary: a requested prompt with trevor, trevor and y/n cuddling up sharing memories of their years together.

warnings: none, absolute pure tooth rooting sweetness, quite literally, “its so fluffy I’m going to die”

word count: 2.8+

notes: request made by @sweetestdesire - “Tell me again how you fell in love with me.” “I literally told you yesterday. “I don’t care, I wanna hear it again. Plus, I love hearing you speak.” - altered slightly but not much

The rare California rain gently fell against her bedroom window, carrying with it the faint echo of wind and the occasional honk of a vehicle. Trevor and Y/n lay snug in her bed, their limbs intertwined in a familiar sense of comfort. The soft rustle of their sheets joined the sounds of the weather that filled the room, a stark contrast to the joyous and thunderous cheers of Ducks fans they had just left behind at the Honda Center, a lingering memory of the game that had just concluded.

Hopefully gone were the ugly memories of watching Trevor’s team lose game after game, the Duck’s were on a hot streak currently winning the last five home games as shutouts.

Y/n's head rested on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, a rapid strumming that was slowly beginning to flow back into normal rhythm.

“I’m sorry we had to spend our 4-year anniversary at my game.” Trevor mumbled, he had apologized already at least twenty times, feeling terrible for not being able to do something for Y/n that day.

“Trevor, truly baby stop, I love going to your games!” She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with affection. “I got to see you play, and score the game winning goal! I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the whole world, plus I am taking any opportunity to show off that I’m the only female who is wearing your last name with meaning.” She grinned a cheeky smile and he just shook his head.

They had met at one of his games, she had been dragged by one of her friends who was a die-hard Ducks fan. At that point in time, Trevor had been playing the not-so best season of his career. He was constantly in the box for silly retaliation calls, starting and finishing fights, he wasn’t scoring like a previous first rounder top prospect should have been. He was trying to keep himself from being distracted by the fans in the stands, so he hadn’t noticed her right away. It was her friend’s enthusiasm that had stood out among the sea of fans drawing his teammates eyes over during warmups.

However, when Trevor cracked and his attention was finally drawn by the way her friend cheered and yelled for his attention, his eyes fell on Y/n instead. The instant connection he thought that they had made, made him feel invincible on the ice that night. Trevor ended up earning himself a hat trick accompanied by two assists for a 5-1 win over the Sharks.

Trevor was determined to find her, after the game. He didn’t spare a single second for the media, he didn’t shower either. He wasn’t risking her leaving. In record time, he slung his gear off and changed into shorts and a t-shirt to make a mad dash out in hopes to find her still sitting in the seats behind the goal.

Luckily for him, she was still there. They ended up talking for hours after that game.

“Do you remember the night we met?” He asked her after being lost in his own memories about it.

Y/n’s eyes lit up, she had told the story to her friends and family a hundred times but hearing it from his perspective was something she never tired of. She nodded eagerly, “I was so nervous, I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because your eyes had this intense look when you were on the ice that night, or maybe it was just because you were so damn hot in your gear, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.”

Trevor pinched her waist playfully, a smirk playing on his lips. “I looked hot eh?” He teased, his thumb stroking the skin just above her hip bone. She giggled, swatting his hand away playfully.

“Stop it! You know you do.” Her giggle fit died down before she tried to speak again. “So, if we’re starting to share our memories together,” she smiled at him whole fully.

Y/n propped herself up on her elbow, sole purpose to be able to look at him better.

“Remember that night at the beach, when we had our first kiss?” Her voice was soft, a gentle whisper that danced in the air between them, stirring up the butterflies in Trevor’s stomach like it had that very evening as if he was a schoolboy again.

Trevor’s eyes searched hers, the question in her gaze so earnest, so hopeful. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the cool sand beneath his feet, the sound of the waves crashing in the background, and the way the moon had painted the horizon in a soft silver light. The night before she made a surprise trip to the Sharks arena to watch him play, unfortunately this game didn’t work out in the Ducks favor. When Trevor received her message post game about being there he turned towards one of Ducks equipment managers giving them directions to go get her.

“The night at the beach, the day after you surprised me by showing up at the game in San Jose?” He said, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. As if he would forget about it.

“Yes, the very one. Where I just showed up and you guys had just lost….but you still took the time to see me or I guess wanted to see me, so you sent someone out to get me.”

“It wasn’t a want after I knew you were there babygirl, I needed to see you. I knew you were going to be my girl after you bought your own $100 plus ticket to come watch me play and you went by yourself. You paid, knowing I could have got you free tickets all so you could surprise me.” Trevor's voice grew softer, the memory bringing a gentle warmth to his words.

He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he relived the night.

He had felt a fierce protectiveness over her as she approached the locker room full of raging hormonal men. He had almost immediately wrapped his arms around her, the smell of the generic body wash in the guest showers mingling with her perfume, something sweet and floral. The moment between the two shared in front of the locker rooms was when he had hastily asked her out to the beach later the next day.

Y/n layed back down on her stomach, her chin propped up on his chest, her eyes searching his as she spoke. "The night on the beach when you stopped suddenly when we were walking, I was scared you were bored or something," she confessed, a hint of vulnerability in her tone. She had never admitted it to him before, the small doubt that had lurked in the back of her mind that night.

Trevor stilled his motions before speaking, his eyes focused on hers, "Bored? With you? Not a chance." His voice was gentle, a warm caress that seemed to dispel any lingering shadows of doubt. "I knew right then I wanted to kiss you. I just had a moment of second guessing in case you smacked me or ran away." He laughed slightly as he smiled. “Then you turned back around and the way you looked, looked at me, I didn’t care if you smacked me. It wouldn’t hurt long. And hell, I’m a professional athlete. I'd catch up if you ran.”

Y/n felt her heart swell with affection as she laughed. "You're so dramatic," she said, her voice filled with love and amusement. She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her fingertips tracing the line of his cheekbone.

Trevor's smile grew with the soft touch of affection. "Maybe, but it's all true." His voice grew husky, the emotion of the memory thick in the air.

“Hey, Y/n?” He whispered, grabbing her by the waist with both hands lifting her to lay on top of him.

Her eyes searched for him, questioning and curious of the sudden change in position. He didn’t say a word, instead he leaned in and kissed her with a tenderness that could melt an entire ice rink three times over. It was the kind of kiss that made time stand still, where every beat of his heart resonated against her own. A kiss that was sweet and gentle, like a whispered promise of forever. It was a nice and welcomed difference to the passionate, urgent kisses they often shared in the bed they were occupying, but no less powerful in its own right.

When he pulled away, she found herself breathless, a soft blush painting her cheeks. “Trev, what was that for?”

He looked into her eyes, the warmth in his gaze making her feel like she was the only person in the universe. “I just wanted to remind you how much I love you, and that every day, every moment with you, makes me love you even more than I did the last time I said it.” He spoke with such conviction, his words a sweet melody that filled her soul. “I love you more now, than I did when we got home, and I’m sure you’ll give me a reason before tomorrow to love you more than I do right now.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his declaration, a feeling that was becoming as familiar as the sound of their breath mingling together. She knew she didn’t need the reassurance, but she craved it. She craved to hear his voice tell her that he felt the same way she did. That she wasn’t just some girl he had picked out in the crowd one night who had gotten lucky to get to know him, but the love of his life.

“Trevor.” Y/n whispered, laying her head against his shoulder, still lying on top of him, Trevor’s arms wrapped securely around her waist. “Will you tell me again how you fell in love with me?”

Trevor’s chuckle was a warm rumble under her cheek, a gentle reminder of his presence, and of his affection. “You’re like your little nephew asking for a bedtime story when he stays, you know that?” He said playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But the request from her, nor the little guy, didn’t annoy him.

It was quite the opposite, it reminded him of their earlier days together. Back to when he first told her he loved her, back when she would ask him almost every day just to hear him say it.

He sighs and kisses her forehead before starting his story, his eyes closed as he recounts the moments that had led up to him falling for her. "I was in love with you far before I told you I was," he starts, his voice low and earnest. "Remember that summer when we got lost on our way to the Hughes’ lake house?"

Y/n nods, a smile playing on her lips, "You were so mad at the GPS," she murmurs, the memory bringing a hint of embarrassment to her voice, “thinking that it was wrong, but I had accidentally put the address in wrong. You never showed anger to me once we realized and wouldn’t let me apologize either. You laughed with me, not at me.”

Trevor’s arms tighten around her slightly. That summer had been one of the best of his life. It was the summer he had realized she was more than just the girl who had stolen his attention at the game. She was the girl who was breaking down every wall. Walls that he had no idea existed until she was in his life, because no other girl had ever managed to reach them.

"I was in love with you before I knew I was," he repeats in a caressing whisper. "It was the way you'd laugh at my terrible jokes, the way you not only cheer me on, but the entire team. It’s how even when I was playing like shit, you were still right there by my side. You see me for me I know that if I don’t or can’t play, you’ll still be here. You’re not here for the hockey side of me. It was the way you looked at me in a room full of people, like I was the only person in the room that mattered." His voice grew softer with each word, each memory weaving a tapestry of emotion in the air.

She’s heard the explanation a few hundred times over the four years, each time it fills her with so many emotions that she can’t help but tear up a little. She had never experienced such a love before Trevor, she never wants to experience anyone else’s but his.

“I knew it, when I had to pull over and ask that old man with his pet llama if you could pet it. You were so embarrassed I actually did it but you talked about petting the llama all day.” Trevor laughed remembering that specifically odd encounter.

“I still can’t believe I got to pet a llama because of you, that was pretty amazing.”

The warmth in her voice brought a grin to his face as he leaned further back into the pillows. She was so much more than he had ever hoped for in a partner.

"Every time I saw you, every moment we spent together, it was like you were throwing little glances of light into the darkest parts of me." Trevor's voice grew softer, his eyes still closed as if he could feel the moments more deeply that way. "You had this way of making everything feel right, even when everything was so wrong." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, his grip on her waist tightening slightly as the weight of his feelings pressed against his chest.

“The first time I told you that I love you that New Year’s Eve, when I flew back early to surprise you, during our first year together. I was so anxious. I had never felt this way about anyone before. And when I saw your face light up like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center when you opened the door to your apartment when I knocked, I had to tell you, right then and there. I blurted it out right in your face like the idiot goofball that I am. But whenever you feel so in love with someone the way I do, the kind that makes you want to jump out of airplanes to see if it matches the way they make your heart race or fight your way through the crazy mob of media instead of taking the interviews just to take a chance at meeting them.”

Trevor unwrapped his arms from her waist, only to move his hand to tilt her head to look up at him.

“Y/n, every day since then, that love has only grown and grown until it’s all I can think about, no you’re all I can think about. To the point I know that I want to marry you one day." His voice was steady, filled with certainty that had been growing in his heart for months, waiting for the perfect moment to tell her.

Y/n popped up with renewed energy, elated with the words that fell from his lips. “One day? Why not elope tomorrow? I have been waiting for you to say that for, forever. I don’t need big and fancy, I just need you.” She was beaming at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Trevor shook his head in amazement, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "You're something else, you know that?" He replied, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But no, not tomorrow, I want to do it right. Meaning I am going to ask you, not you ask me. I also know that you do want some type of ceremony, I’ve seen you scroll through Pinterest.” He stroked the side of her cheek with his thumb, wiping away the small tear that had fallen. The smile she wore let him know she wasn’t crying from him saying no. “I have always been one to rush into everything. I want us to take our time and make sure that when we do get married, it's a day neither of us will ever forget."

Her heart fluttered at his words, feeling the love between them grow stronger with each shared memory, and his confession. The room grew quiet once again, their breaths mingling together in a soft dance of contentment.

"I can't wait for that day," she whispered with a yawn taking over her words, her second wind of energy vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "But until then, I'm happy being with you just like this." Her eyes fluttered shut and reopened slowly.

“It’s okay to go to sleep, I will be here tomorrow. I can always talk about whatever it is you have ready to ask me then.” Trevor assured here pressing a kiss to her head from an awkward position. “Close your eyes and go to sleep, babygirl.”

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bingwriterxo · 1 year ago

Text

the shakespeare exhibit - part 7

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara accompanies you to a family party

warnings: homophobia/biphobia

word count: 4100+

author's note: longest thing i've ever posted. also, had to look up so many specific quotes for this one...

previous part | next part

"So, how many people did you say will be at this party?” Tara asked, looking out the window as you drove down another dirt road. Ever since the two of you had passed the city and made it off the highway, it had been all cornfields, farms, and forests. Tara knew one thing for sure: she would never live in the countryside of New York, even if you wanted to.

You shrugged behind the wheel, reaching out to lower the music a bit. One of Tara’s more ‘pop-y’ songs was on, and the bass was loud. “I’m not really sure,” you said, sparing her a glance before refocusing on the road ahead of you. “My parents know a lot of people, but I’m sure it won’t be more than…two hundred?”

Two hundred people?! Tara thought, her eyes widening. I have to meet two. hundred. people?!

“Don’t worry, though,” you continued quickly. “Only about fifty of that is family; the rest are family friends or work acquaintances, so you won’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.”

Thank fucking god. “And can you give me a run down on the more immediate family again?”

“Well, there’s mom and dad, obviously.” You took a left, not bothering with your blinker because there was no one else around. However, rather than more dirt road, your tires were finally rolling against pavement. “Nathaniel and Edmund--but, you can’t call him ‘Edmund’; you have to say ‘Eddie’, or he’ll get upset.”

“And they’re identical, right?”

Trees were lining the pavement, perfectly spaced apart and shaped, and Tara readied herself to be met with your house. Except…it never came. You just kept driving and driving, and it seemed like there was no end in sight.

You nodded. “Yup--identical. You’ll be able to tell them apart, though. It’s easy.” You hummed as you thought. “Oh, baby Cordelia, of course, but only my father calls her by her full name.”

Your baby sister, Cordelia, or Lia, as she was called by most, was turning a year old that day, which was why you and Tara had made the drive up to your parents’ house. They were throwing a party for her, and an extravagant one at that.

“And then my father’s parents: Grandma Jane and Grandpa Thomas. They live in the house with everyone, but odds are you won’t meet them today. They like to spend their time in the wine cellar when we have guests.” You leaned toward her just slightly, like you were about to tell her a secret. “Grandpa Thomas has never been the biggest fan of…people. He’s a book guy, you know?”

Mom, dad, Nate, Eddie, Lia, Jane, Thomas. Tara nodded to herself as she made the mental note, determined not to get anyone’s name wrong. “Okay, and--”

Finally, your house started to show in the distance, and Tara’s jaw literally dropped. Even from where the two of you were, it was huge, and not just rich-person-huge but old-money-huge.

It was a large, shapely building made of blue brick; two large, white pillars stood near the front entrance and extended all the way up to the roof; windows upon windows were lined in white to match the rest of the house; vines flowed down from the roof, though they were neat and calculated, giving the house an old-vibe rather than a messy one.

Holy. Fucking. Shit, Tara thought as your house--if it could even be called a house--drew closer and closer. She stared in awe as you drove the two of you around the circular driveway, centered around a gorgeous fountain, and to the parking area, which was already overflowing with cars.

Once you parked, you turned to her, glancing down sheepishly. “I know it’s a lot,” you said, your voice soft. “The house, the party, the meeting everyone.” You inhaled deeply. “If you feel uncomfortable about anything at any time, just let me know and we can hide in my bedroom, okay? Or, if you need a moment alone, it’s up the stairs, to the right, fourth door on your left.”

She’s just too perfect. Tara grinned, that type of grin she only ever had when she was with you, and leaned across the center console, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m sure it’ll be great, baby.”

You flushed, the way you always did whenever she kissed you, even though she had kissed you a million times at that point; she never tired of the way the red painted your cheeks, or how you’d smile subconsciously.

“Okay.” You nodded and kissed her again for good measure. “Then let’s do this.”

You climbed out of the car, rounded the hood, and opened the door for Tara to step out. Always so chivalrous, she thought, grabbing the present that she had brought for your sister from the floor of your car. It was just a small toy, and she suddenly started to second-guess it as you led her toward the entrance.

As soon as she stepped into the house, marble flooring beneath her feet, she gulped. There were at least a hundred people there already, all having traveled to celebrate your baby sister, and they were scattered around, talking and laughing and drinking champagne. She was glad she had worn her nicest dress for the occasion, but even that didn’t seem nice enough.

I do not belong here, her mind whispered.

Before she could even utter a single word to you, all eyes turned, smiles and grins and furrowed eyebrows and tilted heads watching your every move. This is like a creepy cult movie. She glanced at you, somewhat surprised that you were relaxed as you waved.

“Hi, everybody!” you said, and there was a chorus of greetings in response.

Then, suddenly, there was pounding coming from upstairs, and two heads peeked over the banister, gleaming grins on each of their faces and identical in every way--except for their hair, Tara noticed quickly; one had his hair sticking out every which way while the other’s was combed down neatly.

“Y/N’s home!” the messy-haired one shouted. All eyes turned to them, fond smiles on everyone’s face as they stared up at the boys.

“‘A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers!’” the other yelled. Okay, well, that one’s Nate, Tara thought, and she watched as they bounded down opposite stairs, their legs carrying them quickly so they could be the first to truly greet you.

They rammed into your waist, making you stumble back as you held them close. “Hi, boys,” you giggled, and everyone--everyone--laughed at the joy that was radiated from the three of you before going back to their conversations.

You hugged your brothers tightly before pushing them away slightly. You took Tara’s hand in your own, and her heart fluttered at the feeling of your warmth against her skin. “Nate, Eddie, this is Tar--”

“The girlfriend!” Eddie cheered.

Nate followed up with, “She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed!”

Does this kid only speak in Shakespeare? Tara wondered. Is that even possible?

“Hi, guys,” Tara said, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods,” Nate replied.

“What this dork means,” Eddie started, elbowing his brother, “is that we can’t wait for you to become our sister-in-law!”

Sister-in-law?! She glanced at you, and you cleared your throat, unraveling your hand from hers and placing it on the small of her back. “Eddie, Nate, go find Nana and Pops.” You leaned down and whispered something to them, and both boys nodded fervently before rushing away.

“So, you talk about me to your brothers?” Tara teased, grinning at you.

You rolled your eyes lightly, carefully guiding her further into the house. “Don’t listen to a word they say. They’re--well, you met them.” A handful? she thought. Yes.

You passed by people, sparing short greetings or simple waves, until you stood with Tara in the kitchen. “And don’t mind Nate’s speech,” you said, chuckling. “He’s been in Shakespeare-mode ever since he got that part in the play. He only talks in quotes now, no matter what play they’re from.”

She hummed. “Reminds me of someone I know,” she said, leaning up to kiss you.

Just as you began to lean down, there was an excited squeal, and you pulled back quickly, eyes wide and landing on whoever had interrupted you.

“Mom!” you rushed out, blushing. Tara spun around, a nervous smile on her lips as she stared at your mother, who grinned right back.

“You must be Tara, sweetheart!” your mom said, pulling Tara into a hug. Okay! I guess this is a hugging family! She placed her hands on Tara’s shoulders, looking at her. “You’re even prettier than Y/N said!”

“Hi, ma’am--”

Your mother waved her off. “Oh, please. Just call me ‘mom’.” She grinned, and Tara realized that you had her smile. “I’m sure you’ll be in this family soon enough.” Tara felt herself pink at the words. I sure hope so.

“Mom!” you groaned from behind.

Your mom hummed. “Yes, well, I was just coming to grab another apple for your father. You know him,” she said. “Eats like he’s a horse,” she whispered to Tara.

You perked up at the mention of your dad. “Oh, Tara! Let’s go see him. I’m sure he has Lia, right, mom?”

“Yes, yes.” She was digging around the fridge. “I was so sure I bought more,” she muttered to herself.

You sidled up beside Tara and took her hand, leading her toward a different area of the house. There were even more people there, standing around one object and cooing. You squeezed past them all, offering ‘hello’s’ and ‘nice to see you’s’ as you did.

“Dad!” you exclaimed when your father came into view, Lia in his arms.

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns,” your dad hummed. He wrapped an arm around you in a hug before handing you your sister. “Watch your hair,” he warned. “She’s in her pulling phase.”

As if on cue, Lia reached up and tugged at your ear, giggling when you groaned. “Lia! No pulling,” you mumbled. Tara grinned, butterflies stirring in her stomach at the sight. Talk about baby fever.

“And you’re Tara,” your father said, looking at her. He wasn’t an intimidating man at all, but Tara had heard how highly you spoke of him, and, needless to say, she was nervous.

Oh boy, she thought. Here we go.

“Hello, sir,” she said, sticking her hand out. I hope I’m not sweating. Please don’t be sweating.

He inspected her outstretched arm for a moment before laughing loudly and clapping a hand on her shoulder. “No handshakes for family, Tara!” He pulled her into a hug, just like your mother had. I have to become a part of this family. It’s a must. “And, gosh, don’t call me ‘sir’! That’s so formal! Just call me ‘dad’.” His voice was joyous, excited, and Tara understood immediately where you got your personality from.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “...Dad…” It was weird, feeling the word slip from between her lips, but the man lit up upon hearing it.

“Tar, come here,” you called gently. She took a few steps until she was at your side, and grinned down at the baby in your arms. “Wanna hold her?”

“Oh!” Baby. Can’t drop it. That thing’s alive. “Sure.” It was a careful handoff as Lia settled into Tara’s arms, smiling up at her. She had the same eyes as you, who had the same eyes as your father, and Tara was immediately smitten. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

And then, Lia was pulling at the ends of her hair, and Tara thought, Yeah. Maybe I don’t want a kid just yet.

“I’ll take her off your hands,” your father said, holding his arms out. Tara handed Lia back to him, watching as he stuck his tongue out, to which Lia laughed. “My little Cordelia,” your father sighed.

“She’s the favorite child now,” you whispered to Tara. “Come, let’s get something to drink.”

You took her not to the kitchen but to the bar, and Tara marveled the whole way as she caught sight of old paintings, framed poems, antiques that littered the walls. It wasn’t crowded in any way; it was all beautiful and exactly how she expected your house to look.

You ordered the two of you champagne, and the bartender didn’t say a word as he poured your drinks, handing them to you with a soft smile.

“So, that’s everyone. Like I said, my grandparents are probably hiding away in the wine cellar,” you said, taking a sip from your glass. “What’d you think?”

You’re the perfect mixture of your parents, she thought. Everything makes sense now. “They’re all lovely.”

You grinned. “I’m glad you like them. I can already tell they love you. Well, I could tell that from the moment I told them about you, but--”

Someone interrupted you.

“Y/N.” The voice was masculine, strong, stern, and Tara could sense a bit of pretentious asshole in his tone.

She spun around when you did and watched as your eyes landed on the man; you immediately straightened up, your shoulders tensing and your smiling fading into a tight-lipped greeting. She straightened up, too. I bet he’s a dick, she thought, eyeing him and internally scoffing at his stupid face.

“Connor,” you gritted out like it pained you.

Tara reached to take your hand, knowing that you sought touch in moments of stress, but, just barely, you moved away from her grasp. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Who is this douche and why is he making her so…rigid?

You held your head a little higher and clenched your jaw. “Why are you here?”

He smiled, though Tara thought it looked more like a snarl. “Well, our parents are friends, so why wouldn’t we have been invited to Lia’s birthday party?”

That’s it, Tara promptly decided. I’m going to punch him by the end of the night.

“Right, of course.” You held your champagne glass a little tighter. “And how are you finding everything?”

“Oh, your parents throw lovely parties. Although, it’s not like I’m any stranger to them.” He took a sip of his wine and smacked his lips together. “I was surprised to find you here, actually.”

“It’s my baby sister’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I be here?” you asked.

He waved you off. “Your mother mentioned something about you having been busy--working a minimum wage job and whatnot.” The condescending nature of his words made Tara ball her hands into fists. If he doesn’t walk away in five seconds, I can’t be held responsible for what happens to his perfectly-straight, stupidly-white teeth. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “And this is…?”

Your worst fucking nightmare, douchebag, Tara thought, but she offered him the smallest of smiles instead, not yet knowing if she was allowed to make an enemy of him.

You startled, like you had just remembered that she was standing beside you, and slid your arm around her waist. Tara watched as Connor clenched his jaw at the action. Yeah, fuck you!

“Connor, this is Tara. My girlfriend.” He scoffed, loudly, and your hold on her tightened, your fingers digging into her hip. “Tara, this is Connor. He’s…a family friend.”

He hummed. “If that’s what you’d like to call us, then sure, Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue too comfortably for Tara’s liking, especially for how stand-offish you became around him. “So, still in your little…exploratory phase, then?” he asked in such a way that made your grip turn almost bruising and caused Tara’s stomach to turn unpleasantly.

“No, Connor,” you said. “I’m bisexual. There is no exploring.”

“Sure.” He chuckled like he didn’t believe you. “Perhaps the men at Blackmore are just less than satisfactory.”

“Okay, why don’t you--” Tara began, only to be cut off by you pulling her into you.

“Or perhaps Tara can just satisfy me more than you ever did,” you snapped.

Tara froze. What? Is he…did they date?

Connor furrowed his eyebrows in anger, his eyes turning dark as they set themselves on her. “Does she even come from money?” There was venom in his voice, the disgust in his expression not bothering to hide itself.

A shiver ran down Tara’s back, and she glanced at the floor, her skin suddenly feeling too small for her, the air seeming too thick to breathe in. From the moment she had stepped into your home, she had felt a little out of place, and now Connor was simply confirming that thought.

“Does that matter?” you seethed.

“Of course it does. When you come from families like ours, everything matters. I mean, if you’re serious about this whole…bisexual…thing, how could you know she’s not just using you?” His words were coming out fast, spit flying as he spoke, his cheeks flushing with rage. “At least with me, you knew there were no ill intentions.”

Using her? Tara thought, feeling herself shrink slightly. Ill intentions?

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Connor.” Your voice was sharp and threatening, holding a warning behind it.

“I take it, then, that she doesn’t come from a family of the arts.” His eyes flickered down before glancing back up again. “Or any family that matters.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause in which Tara could feel anger radiating from you and shame filling her every vein, and it was strange. She pulled herself from your grasp, mumbled out, “I have to use the bathroom,” and rushed away with teary eyes. Away from him, away from the party, away from you.

Faintly, she could hear you calling her name, and then a few angry shouts, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was focused on squeezing past people and slipping upstairs to your bedroom, her hand fumbling around in her purse for her inhaler.

Fuck, where is my inhaler? she thought as she tripped up the last step and stumbled down the hall, counting one, two, three, doors on her left until she found the fourth—your bedroom. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, rummaging through her purse in a panic as she tried to blink back her tears.

When she finally caught hold of her inhaler, she took two puffs and threw her head back, groaning. Stupid. Thinking I could fit in here. Thinking this was all normal. Stupid.

There was a knock on the other side of the door; then, a voice, soft and careful. “Tara?” She could hear some shuffling out in the hall. “Tara, dear?”

Tara straightened. Is that her mom? she wondered. What is her mom doing here right now?

“Could you let me in, Tara?”

Tara wiped beneath her eyes and, with a heaving sigh, turned around and opened the door, her shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of your mother’s worried face.

“I saw you run off, dear,” your mom started, taking a hesitant step forward, “and Y/N was nowhere in sight, so I thought I’d come check on you.”

This whole family is just too good. “I’m alright,” she lied through her teeth.

Your mother hummed and ventured further into the room, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs crossed over one another. “I saw you and Y/N speaking to Connor Harris.” Her face soured as she spoke his name, and Tara smiled softly at that. “I’ve never liked that boy, but Y/N’s father and his father have been friends since childhood.”

Tara swallowed. I need to know. I need to ask. “Were Y/N and Connor…were they together at some point?” she asked.

Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at her lips. “Dear, they were engaged. Has she not told you?”

It was like the world stopped for a moment. Engaged? Tara wanted to throw up. Her vision blurred immediately; a pit in her stomach formed; she could feel herself shaking. Engaged?! She was engaged?! To him?!

Your mother stood and, before Tara could say a word, wrapped her arms around her, holding her trembling body close. “Tara, honey. It is just a part of Y/N’s past, but she’s with you now, and that’s what matters.”

Oh my god, I’m being comforted by her mom right now, Tara thought. This is so embarrassing. She pulled away and sniffled, holding her head up. “Thank you, truly. I’m just…shocked that she never mentioned an engagement before.” How did she never tell me?

“Yes, well--”

“Tar?” your voice called from near the door. “You in here, bab--” You appeared in the doorway, stopping short at the sight of your mother and Tara in your bedroom together, with clear signs of Tara having cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” your mom said, squeezing your shoulder briefly as she exited.

You walked into the room, shut the door behind you, and stepped up to Tara, taking her cheeks in your hand. Your thumb rubbed beneath her eyes, wiping away any remnants of her tears. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you asked, your voice gentle.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes flitting to the floor. “Your mom told me about…about you and Connor.”

You paled, your hands dropping slightly and your eyes widening. “Oh,” you muttered.

“You didn’t tell me you were engaged before,” she whispered. She took a step away, and you swallowed as your arms fell to your sides. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Not a big deal?!” Her eyebrows furrowed. How could she think this isn’t a big deal? “You were engaged--set to spend the rest of your life with someone.” She waved her hand. “Set to spend the rest of your life with him! And you think that’s not a big deal, or something that you shouldn’t tell your girlfriend?”

“Tar, let me explain,” you pleaded. “Just, let me explain, please.”

She inhaled sharply. “Fine.”

You sighed in relief, blinked hard, and began. “He proposed to me at our high school graduation, up on the stage, in front of everyone. I--I didn’t want to embarrass him, or our families, so I said yes, and, technically, yes, we were engaged.” You shook your head, slumping onto your bed and holding your face in your hands. “I should’ve never said yes. We went home that night, and I told him I didn’t actually want to get married. Obviously, he didn’t like that, so he broke up with me.”

Tara’s face softened, her anger simmering. “You were engaged for…what…only a few hours?”

You nodded, glancing at her. “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because it really isn’t a big deal. I mean, honestly? I hardly liked Connor anyway. I was with him because I thought my parents wanted that, but they don’t care.” You shrugged. “They just want me to be happy.” You stood, crossed the room, and took Tara’s hands in your own. “And you make me happy.”

Tara grinned, then glanced away sheepishly. “I’m sorry I kind of overreacted.”

You shook your head and pulled her into you, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. “No, I should’ve told you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled into your chest, sliding her own arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. You kissed the top of her head, and she hummed before another thought popped into her head. “Do you think you should be with someone who…has a family like this?” She pulled back and gestured to your room. “Who could afford all of this?”

“Tara,” you said softly, frowning. “I don’t care that your family isn’t in the high arts, or that your parents aren’t business magnates, or that you didn’t grow up the way I did. I love you.” You leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t let what Connor said get to you, okay? He’s a pompous dirtbag.”

Tara chuckled. “He is, isn’t he?”

“Yes. The biggest pompous dirtbag I know.”

She grinned. “I love you, too, by the way.”

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you--is not that strange?” you quoted, smiling.

She rolled her eyes. Always such a dork, she thought. My dork, though. “Are you sure you don’t love Shakespeare more than me?”

You hummed, tilting your head like you were weighing your options, and she scoffed lightly. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’ll always love you more than I love Shakespeare, baby.”

“Good.” Tara bit back her smile. “Does that mean you’ll get a statue bust of me?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

bonus: “so, when you and our sister get married, will you take her last name?” eddie asked, swinging his feet from where he sat at the table in the ballroom.

“eddie--” tara began, only to be interrupted by nate, who sat on the other side of her.

“get thee a wife, get thee a wife!” he exclaimed.

“we’re only 19, guys,” she tried.

“okay, and?” eddie asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“do you not love my sister?” nate asked, and tara was thankful that, for once, his shakespeare quote sounded normal.

she glanced around, looking for you, but you were talking to one of your aunts on the other side of the room. she leaned down and gestured for both boys to come closer. “i’ll tell you guys a little secret. when we do get married, i plan to take her last name.”

they grinned at each other across tara.

“knew it!” eddie cheered.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #museum tara #scream 5 #scream 6

703 notes · View notes

lucvly · 11 months ago

Note

hi, how are you doing ? i was wondering if can you do christmas head canons with matt ?

— christmas headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: just fluff & a slightly suggestive one if you squint.

a/n: hii omg ?? is this Thing on ?? 🎤

— leaves the christmas lights up till january type of person. either a) he’s too lazy to take the decorations down, or b) he just wants you to help him take them down so he avoids it until you bring up the idea of helping him LMAO.

— this man knows how to wrap presents mhm. he’d a hundred percent do that stupid ass trend that’s like “wrapping gifts as something not even remotely close”.

— LOOOVES baking cookies with you aww. he doesn’t even like the baking process itself he just likes the decorating part.

— his presents are definitely well thought out. you offhandedly said you wanted a certain something five months ago? best believe he bought it for you for christmas.

— every single present he gives you includes a handwritten love letter. you love it because it’s always at least three pages long and it’s so cute :(.

— he’s such an attentive boyfriend i’m melting ugh. always has a spare jacket for you in the backseat of his car. he’ll say nick or chris left it there for some reason which is most definitely not true, he keeps it there especially for you just in case you get too cold.

— he doesn’t really like visiting malls on christmas because of the crowds but if you wanna go for some reason he’s absolutely following you around.

— he tries to be secretive with gifts but ends up being a major fail LMFAOO you’ve found out what your presents are on multiple occasions. one time he just left them in the car accidentally and you saw them before he could even do anything about it.

— which leads me to my next point, you and chris have an unspoken secret agreement to tell each other what matters got you for christmas. you tell him his present and he’ll tell you yours.

— this went on for a while before matt actually found out and all hell broke loose Oops.

— a perfectionist when it comes down to gingerbread houses. he eventually gives up though when some of the pieces don’t stick together.

— matching ugly sweaters are a must, duh. sometimes it’ll deadass just be mid june and you’ll catch him wearing one of the matching sweaters. it’s so funny but unironically he loves them, he can’t even figure iut why, he just does.

— he gets chapped lips during winter SORRY !! so you’re absolutely gonna catch him with cherry flavored chapstick and he doesn’t gaf. ( taste tests in the car <3333 )

— he’ll never admit it but he Loves christmas scented candles. he acts like the smell is way too strong or something but light one of those snickerdoodle scented candles and he’s Melting.

— lots of christmas themed pick up lines. deadass texts you in the middle of the night just to be like “can i take your picture? i gotta show santa what i want for christmas.”

— his favorite part of winter is the fact that he gets to spend most of his time cuddled up with you under a fuzzy blanket watching movies.

— expect tons of late night drives with him. he loves seeing how people decorate their houses, and for some reason he loves late night talks with you with soft christmas music playing in the background.

— he would be so serious about kids and santa. i feel like chris would be the type of guy to tell kids santa isn’t real but matt would get so pissed, literally raging.

— gets the worst case of sweet tooth during christmas. cookies, cakes, literally anything sweet idc.

— due to that, he’d a hundred percent get sick during the holidays LMFAOO (constant stomachaches because of the amount of sweets he’s had.)

— he’s definitely very considerate as to who you wanna spend your christmas with. he’s thrilled when you wanna spend christmas with him, his brothers and the rest of his family but he also understands that you wanna spend holidays with your family.

— to get to a fair arrangement, you both agree on: one year celebrating with your family, and another year you celebrate with his.

— though when you celebrate with your family, matt, chris and nick end up crashing at, like, the middle of the night HELLO??

— he loves showing you off and posting with you during the holidays. posting your matching outfits, posting vlogs / videos and hauls of what you got for christmas. it’s soo cute.

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froggiewrites · 2 months ago

Text

Baby You're a Haunted House

Pairing: Ghost!Bartolomeo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Your house doesn’t want you to leave. You feel insane for thinking it, but you know it’s true. And after your keys go missing, trapping you here for the foreseeable future, you can’t help but finally crack and let the house know this has to stop. You don’t expect a handsome man to appear to dry your tears and beg you not to leave, with hands as cold as ice and pleading eyes. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Ghost Sex, Temperature Play, Cockwarming, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Talk/Behavior Word Count: 2.7k Halloween Special 2024

There is something wrong with your new house.

You had tried to convince yourself that you were simply on edge from living alone in such a large old house, that the creaking and bumps in the night were simply the house settling. But from the moment you moved in, you could feel eyes on you, and some part of you knew that you were being watched. If it were only that feeling, you could dismiss it, tell yourself you were being paranoid.

But then your things started moving.

At first it was only small things. Your hairbrush moved a few inches to the right. A drawer left a little open when you could have sworn you had closed it. The clothes swore you laid out the night before tucked amongst your dirty laundry, wrinkled as though someone had held them. Your keys becoming frequently misplaced, never where you last left them. It was always something tiny to delay you from leaving, as though the house was begging you to stay in whatever ways it knew how. You were late to work more than a few times, and you could tell your boss was starting to get pissed about it. And really, you know your explanations sound like bullshit excuses, but you can’t really say, “Sorry I’m late, I think my house is haunted and the ghost doesn’t want me to leave.”

But today, finally, a line has been crossed, and you can’t ignore it anymore. Your car keys aren’t moved. They haven’t fallen to the floor, they aren’t on a different table than you left them on. They’re gone. You have searched every place you could possibly have left them, and they are simply nowhere to be seen. You’re forced to call your boss and tell them you aren’t coming in to work today, and they’re, of course, horribly displeased. But you have no choice. You’re stuck here until someone can come rekey it, and that will take at least a few hours and a hundred bucks, if not more. You don’t exactly have a lot of time or money to spare right now.

There are tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, though you can’t tell if they’re from rage, stress, or simply from being overwhelmed. No matter where they’re from, the hiccuping sobs force their way through you, demanding more air than you have to give as you slide to the floor, pressing your palms into your eyes with so much force you start to see stars. You can’t keep dealing with this. You can feel the eyes on you even now.

“I’m not insane,” you mutter to yourself through your tears, as any sane person would.

The house doesn’t answer.

“Why are you doing this? What did I do to you?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic. You were so tired. So tired of never feeling alone. Of constantly worrying that tomorrow would be the day your boss finally got tired of this and fired you, and you’d be stuck all alone in this big house waiting for the moment it decided to finish doing whatever it wanted to you. “I can’t afford to lose my job.”

A floorboard creaks.

“I can’t spend an hour looking for my clothes every morning.”

A cold overtakes the room.

“I can’t keep putting off showers because I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched.”

The light above you flickers.

“I can’t keep doing this. I really, really can’t. I can’t afford to move.”

“Please don’t leave.” The voice is deep, panicked, and desperate. You flinch, finally opening your eyes, and you’re not quite surprised to see that you aren’t alone in the room. There is a man towering over you, shirt hanging open and tattoos on display. His teeth are sharp, and he looks like he could bite you in two, but his eyes are pleading as he leaves toward you. A chill creeps over you as he gets closer. “I didn’t want to make you leave. I’m sorry.”

“Who are you?”

“Uh, my name’s Bartolomeo. Nice to meet you?”

You look up at him, tears still spilling down your cheeks. “Why do you keep taking my things?”

He clears his throat, looking away in embarrassment. “I–uh–I didn’t want you to leave.”

“Why?”

“You’re so–I–” His cheeks are red. “I wanted you to stay. Gets lonely without you. I was used to bein’ alone, but when you showed up I realized how nice it can be, havin’ someone around.”

“Someone lived here before me.”

“They weren’t you.” He says it like it’s obvious.

“Why didn’t you show yourself until now?”

His shoulders tense a little, eyes shifting away again. He mumbles quietly, “I was nervous.”

“Nervous?” You stare at him in silence for a moment as he quietly crumples under your gaze. “About?”

“What if you got freaked out and left, and I never saw you again? What if you didn’t wanna live in a haunted house?” His next question is quiet, voice soft and vulnerable. “What if you just didn’t like the way I looked and you ran?”

“That wouldn’t happen. The last one, I mean. The first two are pretty reasonable concerns, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. So I figured I’d just…try to keep you for a little longer. I didn’t think I was hurting anything. I really am sorry about that. I–I didn’t wanna make you cry.” His voice wobbles, and you can’t help but soften.

“But why hide my things if you knew I’d always come back? I know it must get a little boring while I’m at work, but I spend more time at home anyway.”

“What if you didn’t this time? What if this time you left and that was it?” His hand reaches for yours, and you expect him to pass through you like in the movies, but his fingers intertwine with yours. They’re freezing, but they’re solid. “I’d go crazy wonderin’ what happened to you.”

You stare where you make contact with amazement. “You can touch me.”

“Hm?”

“I–I didn’t think you’d be able to.”

He stares at your hands for a moment, his mouth slightly agape, before he looks up at your face. His other hand brushes briefly over your hair before settling on your cheek, cupping it with affection. “I didn’t think I could either. I–I never tried.” He can’t hide his awe. “You’re so warm.”

“You’re freezing.” You place a hand on his chest, trying to feel if his heart still beats, if his body still goes through the motions of life. He seems to still be breathing, but that could just be instinct. You find no pulse between your fingers, just cold skin that slowly warms to your touch. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“It was at first. You get numb to it after a few years.”

You try to imagine years of this, of an icy creeping chill that never seems to leave, all alone in this big old house as life happens around you. You can’t feel a trace of your earlier anger, just sympathy that rises from somewhere deep within your chest. “Do you…want to be warm?”

“I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you want me to help with that?”

He looks at you with the same kind of reverence most would reserve for a god. Almost instantly tears threaten to pour over his lashes as he stares at you, slack jawed. “Are–Are you bein’ serious? You really mean it?”

You pull him forward by the shirt, wrapping your free hand around him. You had intended to simply hug him, but he tumbles forward, pinning you beneath him. He groans quietly at the sensation of your warmth flowing into him, the closest thing he’s had to life since he lost his. He lets go of your hand to wrap his arms fully around you, burying his nose in your neck. He drinks in everything you’re willing to give him, a softness he has never known and a kindness he hasn’t received in a very, very long time.

You lay together for a while, just feeling his skin heat up from your touch. He slides his hands under the back of your shirt to warm them up faster, causing you to shiver from the chill on your spine. They don’t wander, simply running up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your goosebumps beneath his fingertips.

Then his lips brush against your neck.

“Bartolomeo?”

“Sorry, I just–they were cold too,” he says, unconvincingly. “A lot of me still is.” He shifts his legs, and you feel something pressing into your thigh.

“Oh! I, um–”

“Please, sweetheart. We don’t have to–uh. I don’t have to move. Just let me feel how hot you are, please.” His words come out as a desperate whine, one that makes your heart squeeze. It’s a bad idea, surely. But he sounds so horribly sad, so lonely, and he needs you.

“Okay.” Your hands reach for his belt.

He beats you to it, ripping off your pants and panties before your hands are even halfway to your destination, and his belt and pants come off before you make contact. You expect him to slam into you, but instead he inserts one finger slowly, still a little cold but much warmer after being tucked against you. You let out a soft gasp at the sensation, and he whispers in your ear. “Just makin’ sure you’re ready. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m ready,” you squeak out as you clench around his finger. Instead of stopping, he pumps once, twice, then inserts a second when he’s sure you can take it.

“Wanna be sure.” His fingers move slow and steady, working you up just enough to take three. When he finally deems you properly prepped, he pulls out his fingers, inserting them into his mouth and sucking your juices off of them with a moan. He aligns your hips up with his before plunging into you, immediately groaning at the heat and tightness surrounding him. You gasp at the sudden cold of his cock, legs kicking out instinctively, but he holds you tight so you can’t move an inch. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’ll just take a second to adjust. No need to run.”

“C–Cold!” You hiss, and he holds you impossibly tighter, every inch of you pressed against him.

“I know. You can fix that. You don’t have to try to run away.” He buries his face against you again. “You don’t have to leave.”

You can feel your nipples hardening from the cold, brushing against his chest in a way that sends little jolts of pleasure down your spine as you clench around him. He moans quietly into your hair, but he keeps his hips still. You sit, entirely still, slowly feeling your warmth leave you and leech into him. He makes quiet noises of pleasure as he savors the feeling, the facsimile of life you’ve gifted him.

“Thank you for this,” he murmurs. His icy lips brush against your hair, your cheek, your lips, your neck. His hands rub over your back and sides, every movement dripping with gratitude. “I thought I’d never get to feel this again. Thank you.”

As his attention continues, you find it harder and harder to sit still. He’s slowly growing warm inside of you, and his hands are rough as they brush against your tender spots. Your nipples rub against his chest, as he still refuses to allow you to part for even a second. Once his hands reach your thighs, you can’t take it anymore, and you allow your hips to twitch, giving you the slightest amount of relief. His fingers dig into your thighs as he grunts quietly, trying to ground himself.

“You’re testing me, sweetheart, please.”

“Please, please, move.” You sound absolutely pathetic, wanton and begging, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You just can’t stand all of the sensations, so much but not enough.

He sucks in a breath, steadying himself for a moment, before he responds with a sharp grin. “Of course. Anything for you.”

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feeling of you rubbing against him, before he plunges back in furiously fast, making you cry out. His hands reach for your hips, bouncing you furiously against him as his mouth reaches for your neck. His sharp teeth nip lightly against you, never enough to hurt but certainly enough to mark. The delicate scrape of his canines, still icy cold, combined with his thrusting overwhelms you, making you reach desperately for anything to ground you. You settle for his hair, intertwining your fingers and tugging with every new bite mark he leaves on your skin. He groans as you do, clearly savoring the sensation. Pain is usually saved for the living. What a gift for him to feel it now at your hands.

His pace is unrelenting, the room filled with the sound of skin slapping and your moans, slowly growing louder as he works you up. One hand remains on your hip as the other reaches for your clit, pressing it with shaking fingers. You don’t know if his hesitation is from nervousness or inexperience, but either way he seems to find his footing quickly, allowing your sounds to guide him. As your moans grow, his pace becomes unsteady as he struggles to maintain his rhythm.

“Oh, god,” he whispers. “Those noises, I–You’re killin’ me.” You open your mouth to try to make a joke about it, something about being the first man to die twice, but he hits a particularly sweet spot and you can say nothing other than his name, which only makes him pound into you harder. You’re so overwhelmed you can hardly think at this point, your world and mind filled with nothing but him.

Your pleasure builds quickly, all of the sensations working in harmony to bring you to your climax. You clench around him, feeling as though you’re falling and his hand on your hip is the only thing keeping you grounded. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, ensuring he has wrung every bit of pleasure for you that he can before he releases, groaning into your hair as his cum paints your walls. The sensation is strange, not as chilly as the air around you but colder than anything that would come out of a human. You cannot help but be incredibly aware of every drop as it slowly warms inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, or pull away from you. He pulls you closer once again, pressing your chests together and tenderly kissing you on the lips. “Thank you.”

You laugh quietly. “No one’s ever thanked me for sex before.”

“Not just–well. For that too.” He stumbles over his words a bit, struggling to articulate his feelings. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel alive again.”

“And do you?”

“Hm?”

“Feel alive?”

He gives you a toothy grin. “More than I have in years. If I didn’t know any better I’d think my heart was pounding right now.”

Your hand rests on his chest. It’s moving from his heavy breathing, but there’s still no beat underneath your fingers. You take one of his hands and place it right over your heart, fluttering rapidly. “That’s alright. Mine’s working hard enough for both of us.”

He grins. “Does that mean you’re willin’ to share?”

There’s a heavy implication beneath his words, one you aren’t sure of. But his eyes are so pleading, and he looked so horribly lonely when you first saw him, and something inside of you is whispering that he needs you, only you. So you smile softly, affectionately, “I could be convinced.”

He grins, all teeth. “I can be very convincing.” He kisses you again, a little more demanding this time. “And we can have all of the time in the world for me to do it, if you just stay.”

As his teeth graze your neck again, you get the feeling you won’t be leaving for quite some time.

Taglist: @pandora-writes-one-piece

#bartolomeo x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #x reader #bartolomeo #one piece bartolomeo #op bartolomeo #op #froggie halloween special

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richarlotte · 2 months ago

Note

Someone else you admire?

My good friend Twilly went to uni at 16 for PoliSci, Philosophy, and French, faithfully saved to be able to attend PFW every year for four years and to take the Eurail around Europe, and she’s graduating and moving to Europe to start grad school next year. I visited her at McGill when we were both around 19, and I was blown away by how much she’d been able to accomplish in the six months since I’d last seen her.

Twill is chic, totally carefree, cool, Congolese, and never too much. She’s found ways to study internationally for most of her life; she wrote a fashion magazine in high school; her music taste and humor are impeccable; and she’s got the bookshelf of my daydreams. T ran a small style, fashion, and lifestyle zine called “The Ambassador’s Wife” for the longest time, and the yearly zine perfectly captured the life I want to lead one day. She has such an eye for detail and has studied aesthetics and art in such depth.

She’s a chef, she jokes that she’s a bit of a literary dilettante but she’s far from it, she’s an artist, and she’s a dancer and actress. Twilly is the definition of a cool girl; it comes naturally to her. She’s adventurous and exotic without ever seeming like she’s trying too hard; she’s intelligent, cosmopolitan, inquisitive, and really extraordinary. She’s always told me that there’s something to be said about living life without the need for constant approval, and she’s right—there is.

People don’t just want to know Twilly; they want to be around her and have her in their lives. She’s magnetic and can make the worst of times seem like the best. She’d toss her hair over her shoulder and joke about spending too much time watching Anthony Bourdain, but she’s the sort of person who strays off the beaten track, comes back with stories, and has experiences that make you want to follow her the next time she goes. It’s hard to be the queen of the Irish goodbye when everyone wants you to stay, but she manages.

There was a summer where she broke her phone and had to make do with a flip phone and her digital camera, so as she traveled, she’d write her address on the back of a spare photo she’d printed and distribute them to anyone she wanted to stay in contact with. She returned home to dozens of her photos mailed back to her and had to send off hundreds of texts and emails to get back in contact with everyone she’d met.

I admire her immensely and believe her to be one of the most consistent people in my life. We’ve known each other for years, watched each other grow, and leaned on each other. I faithfully send updates and advice, and she keeps me up to date with the major fashion houses she follows. It can be difficult to make high quality friends that mature with you as you grow up, so I think I'm especially lucky to have someone so likeminded and understanding in my life as one of my closest girls.

#richarlotte x

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cheralith · 2 years ago

Text

what happens in gunsmoke... — 「 knives (nai) x reader 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns used (i think), reader wears makeup, one-sided jealousy, suggestive but not nsfw material, a really poor attempt at hints of comedy, explicit alcohol consumption

contains ; college!au, modern!au, reader and nai have known each other since childhood, some wolfwood x reader, "nai" is used instead of knives and is used as a nickname

word count ; 7.0k

notes ; heavily inspired by @demxnscous's magnificent college!au involving hundred spoons himself! highly, highly recommend reading all the blurbs involving it if you want to see nai being a foolishly and obliviously in love and some other comical headcanons!

“I’ll pay you five bucks to come with us.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Vash pouts and his eyes droop at Nai’s nth refusal to go with his brother and his friends to the new nightclub that had just opened on the corner of uptown that’s been all the hype nowadays across campus. Vash has heard about the throwback hits the DJ plays, the flashing lights that shine just right, the unique drinks that were offered there—he’d be insane not to go on a relieving Friday night after a week of midterms and essays. It wasn't unusual of the spiky-haired Saverem to go socialize and go all out with his closest friends as a way to relax and relieve some tension.

The story is the opposite for the other Saverem, however. Nai prefers to stay inside and be mellowed out with his usual oversized hooded snuggie and some warm tea, perhaps even binging a new show. Isolation wasn’t foreign to him either, and if anything, it’s what he would want on a Friday evening instead of being around sweaty, booze-scented college kids amidst a darkened club with flashing lights. Why would he bother with all-too-loud, outdated music with much too intimate lyrics when he could be savoring melodic Fauré’s barcarolles, instead? The answer seems too obvious.

“You can’t even buy a shot for that much in most clubs in the area,” Nai scoffs, taking off his grandpa-styled rectangular reading glasses and staring dully at him, not phased at Vash’s pleading puppy eyes. “You’re either gonna amp up the cash or come up with another dumb bribe to get me going to that madhouse with you and your little friends.”

Vash whines, slinking his tall self onto the couch. “You know I don’t have much to spare on me, Nai…”

“And yet instead of using that money to buy yourself a new jacket,” Nai eyes Vash’s worn-out crimson jacket their mom made for them when they were children that hangs by a thin thread on the coat rack; Nai feels as if that jacket has seen better days and even impressed it made it this far in its life. “You choose to spend it on a one-time trip at a stuffy nightclub, instead.”

“It’s not about the money, though!” he retaliates, sitting up. “It’s about the memories and friends we make on the way!” he singsongs.

Nai grimaces at Vash’s cheekiness.

“I’m not going. That’s final,” he says sternly, shoving his glasses on his face again and resuming his book.

A thick, uncomfortable silence fills the Saverem residence, only broken by the ticking of the clock and Nai’s occasional page turning. Vash breathes out a stubborn huff—he thinks his older brother has been locked up in the house too much for his own nowadays, even refusing to go out for a casual dine-in at nearby restaurants. Some people even ask about Nai’s whereabouts, to which Vash can only shrug and give the same reply: “Didn’t feel like coming.” given with a soft and dismal half-smile.

Vash studies Nai from the corner of his eye. He’s tried money, he’s tried bribing him with free food, he’s tried exchanging favors like doing his homework for him, but all have failed miserably and have fallen victim to Nai’s disturbed looks that just scream, “NO.”

So he pauses and thinks deeply for a moment. What’s something that could possibly change Nai’s mind about finally leaving their apartment that could also simultaneously let him let loose for a change, give those stiff nerves a chance to unravel and be free for a change?

His mind flutters from option to option, all of them dying in the same instance they’re taken up inside his head… until…

Perhaps it wouldn’t be something that convinces him, but someone. Vash’s eyes slyly go to stare at Nai directly, a large grin on his face that uneases Nai ever so slightly because he knows something mischievous is brewing behind that smile.

“What…?” he mutters, breaking eye contact.

“You know,” Vash murmurs as he sits up, stretching, “There’s a bunch of guys that we know that are going, so you don’t have to go out of your way to meet new people.”

Nai raises a brow. He’s not too impressed at Vash’s last-minute attempt to try and get him on his feet. He doesn’t even like the majority of Vash’s companions. “So?”

Vash begins to stalk off to his bedroom to start getting ready to go to the club, anticipating Wolfwood's car that’ll pick him up in an hour or so. “Meaning Nico is coming, Meryl is coming, Milly is coming, Livio, Legato, Elendira… they’re all tagging along with us,” Vash says with a twirl of his hand, feeling Nai’s eyes dagger into his back.

“Oh, and I also forgot…” Right before he closes his door, however, Vash glances back at his brother, stating the one thing that he knows for a fact will get Nai up and going.

“(Y/N) will be there, too.”

Nai can already feel sick. He can feel the bass of a song thunder from the parking lot as he drearily exits Wolfwood’s car, staring up at the flashy neon sign that screams “GUNSMOKE” in bright green text. There’s a vast array of people lined up outside, all tittering with excitement at the fresh nightclub that’s finally replaced the dingy bar, Jeneora Rock, that most people go to for a casual night out. But the bar had much too many rules to abide by because of its nonsensical history with the nearby college students, limiting what could and couldn’t be done inside. Now with little to no restriction in the new nightclub, who knows what could happen?

The unknown is what Nai fears the most, really.

He doesn’t even remember why he decided to go here on a whim, he thinks to himself as his feet carry him to the back of the line while Vash and Wolfwood talk noisily amongst each other, sulking behind them. He stares at himself in the semi-reflective surface of the window as the line moves up inch by inch, thinking he might’ve overdone himself. Nai thinks there’s too much gel in his hair, thinks that the cologne he spritzed on was too much, thinks that the Vash’s short-sleeved button-up he borrowed is too bold and a little tight, even, just barely squeezing around the biceps that blue geometric sleeve tattoos wrap around. His fingers begin to fiddle with the opened V of it, attempting to clasp in more buttons to hide his chest, but Wolfwood smacks his hand away from them.

“Let ‘em breathe, man,” Wolfwood states, gesturing to his own exposed pectorals that almost rival in size to Nai’s. “You worked hard for them—don’t think I haven’t seen ya at the gym. Y’always hide them with those loose ass sweaters, so show those girls off for once.” He allusively cups one of them in his hands, raising his brows.

“I think I’ll decide that for myself, thanks,” a blushing Nai snaps at him and manages to close up a button that hides a sly inch of his chest, though frustration follows suit when it pops open again thanks to their prominence. His jaw tightens. He’s already in for a rough night.

It doesn’t take Nai long to regret his decision to tag along with his brother from the first step he takes into the nightclub, already overwhelmed by the thick air of sweaty bodies and dazzling lights that sparkle all across the dance floor. He especially doesn’t like the gleaming, large sign that reads, “What happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke.” straight across a wall that seems to be eyeing him with mischief.

The music is significantly better than most clubs and bars have to offer, but the volume and bass is still too plentiful for his liking. Nai is only halfway across the nightclub, he thinks that he could probably make a run for it when Vash’s back is turned and just walk home… maybe hitch an Uber if he’s feeling lucky.

His second guesses, however, all manage to dissipate when he spots the one thing that managed to lure him into this hellhole in the first place.

Arctic blue eyes grow hazy when they land on a familiar figure adorned in a red top with a heart-shaped chest cutout in the middle, a pair of curve-hugging, white corduroy bell bottoms and a crescent moon buckle belt to match. Nai swallows thickly as he watches you listen intently to Meryl’s story about the latest professor-student scandal, his chest growing a little tight at the sound of your soft giggle even through the thunderous music—he’d be stupid to think it’s Vash’s shirt. It grows fuzzy by the second the more he stares at you, you still not noticing the three newest additions to the nearly full semicircle table. He picks out the smaller details of your appearance from his spot—the moon-shaped earrings match with the hardware of your belt buckle, he notices, as well as the glitter that sprinkles across your eyelids that’s framed by a razor-sharp eyeliner that rounds your eyes just right. Your lips, too, look so full with that shade of dark red lip gloss that stretches into a grin. Were they always that plump? Did they always have the bitten look to them? Why were they—

“You’re staring too much.”

Nai’s vision suddenly clears up the hazy background of the nightclub and his hearing sharpens to the music again with Vash’s voice sending chills up his spine. Vash’s lips splay a smirk that basically says he’s won in this little game of tug-of-war—for today at least. Wolfwood, too, doesn’t take long to imitate his best friend.

“There you guys are!” Milly’s voice echoes. They all go to whip their heads around and face her, a hand gesturing to them to come over to their table. “Hurry! Come!”

Another rock-hard swallow inches itself down Nai’s throat when your gaze lands on him, and he swears your eyes had grown a little larger at the sight of his attire that was very much not like his usual wear—but it’s hard to see with the darkness of the club, he can’t get his hopes up so quickly. Vash and Wolfwood greet everyone with equal fervor, Nai quietly following behind them.

There’s an empty spot that sits right to the left of you, your eyes meet Nai’s and a silent exchange between you and him talk through stares and blinks. It’s a hesitant exchange of “No one’s sitting here right?” from his side, but he can’t exactly decipher if you’re exemplifying “It’s yours for the taking.” or “You can sit here… if you want.” Two messages with contrasting tones, Nai can’t let himself fall victim to a possible miscommunication.

But from the way you scooch closer to Milly, who’s the only other person next to you, Nai decides you’re letting him gracefully take what belongs to him…

… that is until a certain ravenette moves ever so slightly swifter than him and plops himself right next to you.

“Ah, shit,” Wolfwood expresses, manspreading his legs so there’s little to no room on the rest of the bench. “Sorry man, were ya about to sit here? My bad, but today was leg day at the gym. Hope ya can understand.” An impish smirk toys on Wolfwood’s lips as they dangle a cigarette almost mockingly. He gestures to the more gracious space on the other side of the table, where Vash pats down a spot for Nai to sit, Wolfwood’s antics going unnoticed by him.

You take the cigarette out of his mouth, your fingertips just barely feathering over Wolfwood’s lips. “Not here, mister. There’s a strict no-smoking policy here.”

Nai can only grimace and sit stiffly next to his brother, his eyes never leaving Wolfwood’s playfully wicked ones.

With hardened icy orbs, he closely examines the sight across from him as you and Wolfwood exchange words, catching up for the evening and laughing nonchalantly, something Nai was never to particularly do as easily as him, something he was never able to get the hang of. A few drinks that the people had ordered earlier come by, and the veins in his eyes nearly pop when Wolfwood reaches over and sips your mango and dragonfruit cocktail from the same straw your lips had touched.

“Hey!” you exclaim. “At least ask permission first, Nico.”

Nico.

That nickname that you affectionately give Wolfwood sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Nai’s ears, or like a fork on a ceramic plate. He twinges, his neck cracking menacingly from the reaction.

Wolfwood smacks his lips, fully examining the flavor before complimenting it. “Y’got good taste in liquor, sweetheart. Gimme some more.”

“Absolutely not,” you huff. “This cost me too much, go get your own.”

Wolfwood’s arm suddenly lazily plops itself across your shoulders, pulling you (and the drink) into him closer. “Now, don’t be like that. Do some charity work for this old man. C’mon, didn’t mama ever tell ya to share?”

Nai’s eyes narrow behind the cocktail menu as he watches you blithely attempt to wriggle out of Wolfwood’s grasp, both of you exchanging inaudible laughs with each other. You sigh and cave in to his stubbornness and Nai miserably watches as you indirectly kiss Wolfwood through the shared straw that switches between your lips and his, you being completely oblivious to the gesture.

He looks over to the doors. The exit sign looks deliriously tempting right now.

For Nai, the night is quiet, something that isn’t a stranger to him when he’s around a group of people that he isn’t used to. For everyone else, however, it’s rowdy and boisterous and exciting. Adrenaline and alcohol is the only thing that everyone knows of. A song would come by and people would be racing to the dancefloor, flooding it with slurred-out lyrics and stimulating dance moves. Various glass and food trays have splattered themselves over the table, and Nai himself can feel a hefty buzz from the alcohol he’s consumed beginning to kick in.

His vision has finally adjusted to the darkness and he can see you much more clearly now. You’re envisioned in his sights just chattering aimlessly with Meryl, you three being the only ones seated still at the table as everyone else dances their night away—it’s then that Nai realizes that you haven’t gone out to the dancefloor like he has, yet, seeing as how you lacked the sweat and exhaustion everyone else was ornate in.

It’s also then that Nai realizes he still hasn’t said a single word to you tonight—the one person that he managed to fix his appearance for.

He’d never admit that though, he thinks to himself as he downs another shot, he’d rather slit his own throat than willingly admit he attempted to fix up his appearance for your sake. Tongue hissing through his teeth at the sting of it, he blinks slowly at you when Meryl finally escorts herself out to go back to the dancefloor.

“You’re not gonna join them?” Nai finally begins, the hesitation in him hours beforehand suddenly dissipating as the alcohol reaches his system.

From your own reaction, it seemed as if you didn’t expect Nai to talk to you first, especially in such a social setting. Your mouth opens, but no words exit your lips for a few seconds before you softly smile and shake your head, “They have yet to play a song I actually want to dance to,” you murmur with your gaze turning affectionately to your friends.

“So what’d you even pay your money for here?” Nai snorts. “Just to drink and eat? Do that at Jeneora Rock, then,” he mutters.

You narrow your gaze at him suspiciously through the frame of your drink, sipping on it ardently. “That’s rich coming from you, hm?” you test, raising a brow. “If anything, I should be saying that to you, Mr. Shut-In.”

A scoff brushes through his lips. “I was dragged here by a certain someone, if you haven’t realized yet. I’m not here voluntarily. Why would I be?”

“It’s still quite odd to me, though,” you chuckle. “You’re quite the stubborn one, how ever did Vash manage to drag you out of your man-cave that you call your room? Truly is a mystery.”

Your tongue is just as sharp as ever—just how Nai likes it. Loves it, even. Maybe it’s because you’re the only person that returns his energy back with equal zeal, or maybe he just merely laps up any bit of attention you give him. He’d rather be tortured than admit it, but there’s that certain sting that he lavishes in at your insults. It’s the same sting that mimics itself in the alcohol he consumes ever so slowly… perilous, but addicting. Dare he say it’s the internal masochistic tendencies he lets out once in a while that makes him tempted to lure them more out of you.

Opportunity arises and he replaces Milly’s spot on the curved bench. It’s his turn to let a breathy laugh escape him, not sure whether it’s because of amusement from your words or because he’s amused at his own out-of-the-ordinary behavior tonight. “Figure that out by yourself,” he replies coolly, his fingers fiddling with the shot glass. “Since you’re so smart.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, a faux gasp escaping you. “Was that a compliment from the one and only Nai Saverem? Should I be graced with such honor?”

He sneers lightly with a roll of his eyes following shortly. “Savor it while you can, because I’m not handing any more out.”

You feign a light pout with your lips, and Nai swears that the small head tilt you give him will lead to his demise. A swift glance at them reveals that even in the dimness, there’s a hypnotizing gloss left upon them, but Nai can’t tell if it’s because of the shared saliva between you and a specific smoker or if it’s just from all the alcohol left on your lips. Do they taste like the mango dragonfruit cocktail from earlier, he wonders, or do they now taste of a mixture of—

He blinks and returns his eyes to yours, a curious glaze still running over them. A poor attempt at distraction for himself is made by pouring two shots for you and him.

“Oh, boo,” you sigh as you gracefully take one of the shots given by him before clinking your glass together with his. “What a waste.”

A blonde eyebrow raises itself up as you and him down your shots together. “Waste of what?”

You smack your lips from the sting of the shot. “Waste of time getting ready,” you shrug as you examine your painted fingernails. Your eyes suddenly fleet to his from a side view, and Nai swears that there’s the lift of a disappointed smile creeping on your face. “I got dolled up for no reason, then.”

And it’s there where his nerves go haywire for a split second. Nai is about to shoot back with something along the lines of wanting you to elaborate, wanting to know what the hell you meant by that, but he’s cut off at the sudden boom of the bass and beginning lyrics that makes your head whip to the dance floor. A celebratory shout rings through the nightclub at the song, per usual, with the additions of some whistles and woops from your friends.

“C’mon, (Y/N), this is your song!” Vash shouts, motioning his hand to join you with everyone else. Everyone else chimes in with their attempts to woo you in with them.

A short burst of laughter leaves your vodka-stained lips before you lick them, shrugging your shoulders again in fake-doubt. Panic shoots through Nai oh so suddenly. His plans to gain some alone time with you are ruined by the song that booms through the speakers. Quickly, he pours two shots into the two spare shot glasses and shoves one of them to your hand to attempt to distract you. He’s about to protest against you joining them, but a certain black-haired bastard cuts through one again.

“Promiscuous girl… wherever you are~” Wolfwood sings roughly, approaching you with his hand out rather princely. “C’mon, now, you heard ‘em. Time for ya to shine.”

“Dunno, the floor looks pretty packed…” a soft tease creeps through your tone. You share a glance with Nai and you’re a little taken aback by the irritation that he doesn’t try to hide anymore towards Wolfwood’s consistent cockblocking given how furrowed his brows are.

And it clicks to you suddenly—as to why Nai, the man who appears outside of campus once in a blue moon—was here in the first place. Why he wanted to sit next to you, why his eyes were consistently on you throughout the night, why he even came to an event like this. It drips with a one-sided acknowledgement, and your tongue darts out to lick your lips once more just before you down your handed shot for an extra confidence boost and take Wolfwood’s calloused hand. You might as well toy with him now that he’s here.

“Fuck it. Let’s go, Nico.”

Nai twitches again at the nickname.

“These for us?” Wolfwood snatches the spare shot Nai poured for himself on the table. “Thanks!” With him downing Nai’s shot meant for himself, Wolfwood shoves the shot glass back into Nai’s hand and escorts you to the dancefloor with his hand on the small of your back.

But not without throwing a smirk over his shoulder to Nai.

Nai’s blood is about to boil to demonic temperatures whilst he watches a rare side of you expose right in front of him. He thinks the sight should be reserved just for him; hips swaying, head thrown back to relish the rhythm, lips syncing to the lyrics. But no, you’re there for all eyes to see and admire, especially a specific flirt’s.

Wolfwood trades the lyrics on and off with you, taking the role of the male voice in the song as his hands run down from your waist to your hips. Your back touches his front chest, lip bitten as he whispers the lyrics into your ear. His ringed fingers teasingly drum themselves on your curves, and there’s a desire embedded in them to go just ever so slightly lower on your body. A flash of red races through Nai’s vision when Wolfwood gently pulls your body towards him, unaware of a pair of eyes that carefully watch his reaction at the intimacy you and Wolfwood share.

“I want you on my team…” Wolfwood mutters hotly into your ear. His teeth get tempted by the shell of your ear that almost asks to be pierced by his sharpened canines, and he draws them slowly closer to it to mark his territory, a tongue running over them hungrily.

But you spin around and push him away teasingly, leaving the stubbled man tempted.

“So does everybody else,” you chant with a cheeky smile before you fend off to dance with the others.

Nai is almost proud from the way you just about make yourself out of reach for Wolfwood. He watches as Wolfwood pokes his tongue in his cheek from what seems to be… frustration, perhaps? A flush of amusement goes by as quick as it comes in Nai’s head. The ravenette man merely shakes his head with a chuckle before resuming his antics with the others, but Nai notices how his tawny eyes don’t exactly leave you when you indulge with the others—much like his own sky blue ones.

The song ends with a riotous cheer through the dancefloor that haunts Nai’s ears. Now the only one isolated at the table, he can only watch from a distance as you smile widely and thank everyone for dancing with you. His heart lifts from its place in a pit at the sight of your footsteps beginning to come back to the table—to come back to him, but you’re yanked back by Milly and Vash when another familiar song seeps through the speakers. Wolfwood, however, manages to return you to him as a Pitbull song bellows from all sides, and his grip on you seems more stubborn, more resistant this time. Your chests are dangerously close to each other and the mere centimeters of distance between you two makes Nai’s jaw grit with aggravation.

Wolfwood mouths to you some suggestive lyrics that make you raise a brow and grin at him. Nai hates, despises, even when he shortly follows up with his fingers close the distance between your bodies and whispers promiscuously, “And baby, I'ma make you feel so good, tonight,” into your ear.

With a gasp, a shy shiver runs up your spine at his breath so close on your skin. Nai’s grip on the shot glass is so dangerously tight, the glass threatens to self-destruct in his to-be-bleeding palm if it doesn’t loosen up any time soon. But it doesn’t seem like his grip is going to weaken and if anything, it strengthens in power when Wolfwood’s teeth go to finally bite the shell of your ear tauntingly, whetted canines glinting with deviltry back to Nai.

Nai is seeing red—angry red—like a bull to a scarlet cape. A single crack crevices itself in the shot glass. He slams it down on the table at the peak of his torment and stands up.

“Nico!” you exclaim with a strained throat at his gesture when he pulls away. You nervously laugh and create a space between you and Wolfwood, who merely replies with a chuckle and a bounce of his shoulders at your embarrassed reaction. “That was—!”

Amusement diffuses across his features, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just playin’ with ya, darlin’.”

“Mind if I come through.”

Nai’s deadpanned voice interrupts, and it’s toned more as a declaration more than a suggestion. It hasn’t even been a minute, yet he already acknowledges the attention that’s beginning to bring a certain spotlight on him. But it isn’t just his voice that makes heads turn, it’s Nai’s presence itself that makes people all around a little stunned. And Nai knows it, he can feel the stares of not only Vash’s friends, but people all over wondering who the mysterious platinum blonde was on the dance floor whose aura just oozes a certain enigma.

“Nai?” Vash is the first to question what on earth the Knives Saverem is doing on a dance floor, amidst a crowd that isn’t designated for his liking. “You gonna dance your heart now for once? Don’t be shy now, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke!”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Nai huffs as a response to Vash’s delight. His impassiveness doesn’t waver his twin’s smile, though. “I’m not here to dance or sing or whatever.”

Wolfwood goes to give him a wily look, already knowing the answer to his upcoming question. “Then whatcha here for, big guy?”

You flinch at the way Nai cracks his neck to look at you, his brows furrowing in dismay and it truly doesn’t take long for Vash and everyone else who gazes upon Nai in wonder to realize why the reserved and solitary older twin is here.

Because he’s here for you.

Ignoring the way the tightness in his pants form when he subtly wonders upon your lustrous face from the perspire and heat from the body heats (he’s trying unnecessarily hard to avoid looking at your chest window that is glazed with crystalline sweat), he grabs your wrist and only yanks you from the crowd and a smirking Wolfwood, your complaints and pleas falling deaf on his ears.

“Nai?!” you yelp as he leads you down a skinny hallway made up of scarce couples eating each others’ faces off. “What are you d—hey! Answer me!”

Nai hisses you to shut up after a lengthy, boiling silence, to which you sullenly obey to your own wits end. The hallway seems endless, almost, if it weren’t for the emergency exit flashing in the furious red that had filtered across Nai’s vision for a brief moment earlier.

Now it’s clear to him his true motivation for coming to this inferno of liquor and lust between strangers. The thought of you possibly meddling with someone unknown makes his chest cringe with a flicker of resentment, your body being pressed up against someone nameless is just an upcoming recipe for his own disaster. A gross taste on his tongue suddenly forms when he imagines you entwined with someone’s limbs hotly in the middle of a crowd with intentful eyes that could possibly land on you and your being.

A single bathroom lies at the near end of the hallway and Nai angrily raps his knuckles on it before bursting in when no reply echoes from the other side after only a mere second.

Wolfwood’s younger brother, Livio, stills idly in front of the toilet, and stares directly at you and Nai. While you knew he wasn’t a man of many words, an odd utterance escapes his lips obviously indicating confusion.

Nai groans and juts his thumb behind him. “Get out.”

“But—”

“Get out, brat.”

Livio stands significantly taller than Nai, despite both men being over a hefty six feet, but Nai’s gaze toward him shoots nothing less than daggers and it’s enough to make the nearly seven-foot man scurry away from the bathroom like a frightened field mouse.

You scoff at him, pitying poor Livio as Nai slams and locks the bathroom door shut. “You could’ve waited for a few minutes for him to do his business.”

“What the hell was that?” Nai spits venomously as he ignores your previous statement. For any person, that icy glare that he currently spots at you would make anyone fall to their knees and do his every bidding. But for you, it stirs up a sudden excitement in your stomach.

“What was what?” you question innocently, eyes fiending a fake confusion.

Nai goes to let out a brief, amused laugh that has traces of spite embedded into it. It’s a mocking sort of laugh—one that powers over your faux ignorance.

“Don’t play coy with me,” he mutters as he drags a watch-embedded hand across his face, the silver of it glinting at you with temptation. His mind replays the intimacy shared between you and Wolfwood, how there was no gap to bridge between you and him and how his teeth had pierced a piece of him onto you. Malice flickers through his face when the imagery becomes too vivid. “What the fuck was that with you and him?”

“Who? Oh, Nico?”

Disgust fills Nai’s mouth.

“Don’t call him that around me,” Nai states sternly. His body begins to mirror how Wolfwood’s body was acting towards you on the dancefloor, except in the bathroom, you’re all for him to take in. No other bodies, no suffocating heat, no overlight head—just another neon light glowing brightly in the darkness with just enough illumination to bask only you and Nai in a chilled, misty purple fog. “You know that I hate that name.”

“It doesn’t bother you when Vash or Livio says it,” you retaliate with a suspicious look glaring in your eyes. “So why am I the odd one out, huh?”

“Because—” Nai’s voice falls short. He grits his teeth in agitation and to seal the true reason as to why he hates it when your voice specifically calls Wolfwood that stupid name. “‘Cause… ‘cause we’re no longer ten years old, so it’s about time you stop calling him by that childish nickname.”

You let out an obnoxious laugh, obviously poorly humored at Nai’s reasoning. Him and you know that you’ve called Wolfwood “Nico” for ages, that the nickname is older than a decade and giving it up would be out of the blue and uncharacteristic of you.

“If that’s the case,” you mutter as Nai cages you in between the cold bathroom wall and his body, your gazes challenging each other. It takes you an incredible amount of strength to avoid inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne that you’ve savored in before and will savor again and again, and also to avoid questioning the sudden get-up that reveals his skin like never before to others, but seems all too familiar to you. “Then does that mean I should start calling Milly ‘Millicent?’ Should I start calling Vash ‘Valentinez?’ Or perhaps… since nicknames are so childish to you… should I start calling you ‘Knives’ again?” you eye him with darkened eyes, searching for any illicit reaction.

Nai fights the urge to grimace at the strangeness of his real name falling from your lips by pressing his palms deeper into the grout of the tiled bathroom. Anyone that wasn’t you or Vash were only permitted to call him by his true name, that his own nickname given by Vash as children was reserved for people that knew him from a young age—one of them being you. “That… that isn’t what I meant.”

“But you don’t mind, right?” you press. “You want me to call Nico by his proper name? Fine. Then I’ll do it with you too, Knives.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, rolling his neck out to ease the exhaustion given to him by tonight and you before he brings it back to face you properly. Now instead of his usual frown that’s grimaced with annoyance, there’s now a smirk toying on his own lips; and it’s one that mirrors your own to your own hesitation.

“Funny you say that,” he murmurs, gently pushing one of his legs between yours and nestling his knee between them. He scans your face and satisfaction laces itself in his being as you stiffen as his gesture, letting out a small exclamation. “Because I don’t really think that name sounds too nice when you'll scream it in bed, just like how you did the other night.”

Your eyes widen at his husked tone, taken aback. Another yelp passes through your lips as Nai lifts his knee teasingly higher and the slight force of it makes you grasp onto his exposed, tattooed arm for proper balance. “Wait… Nai—”

“Oh, dear, I thought my name was Knives, though?” he taunts and puts an end to your cockiness. “Mmh, I guess it doesn’t sound too bad. I suppose I like the sound of ‘Oh, god, Knives, fuck me harder!’” He slurs, mimicking your voice. Your mouth goes agape at his poor imitation of your own breathy moans he’s heard you echo time after time. “Or perhaps ‘Knives, I’m sooo close… don’t st—”

It’s your turn to hiss at him to shut up and silence his lips with your own palm despite no one being around you. A bolt of fear runs through your nerves at the sight of Nai’s eyes entwined with a hushed craving that only you know can suffice it. Your brows knit together and Nai’s smirk peeks through the side of your hand, making your eye twitch at his arrogance that’s infected you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whisper hotly.

Nai takes your hand away from his lips, a firm grasp around your wrist. “What? All I’m doing is just repeating what you said… what was it? Not even two nights ago?”

You bare your teeth in an attempt to hide the rising heat which begins to creep up your skin at the mention of you and Nai’s somewhat disorderly relationship with each other.

It confuses the both of you—you’re not exactly friends-with-benefits, but you and him tiptoe along the border of what a possible relationship could be like and it’s you and him alive by the day. The only way you and Nai cope with the big pot of feelings boiling in as one in a cauldron is nonsense is through a physical intimacy shared with each other, one that tells the other that no one else gets to have you and him except each other—at least for that tumultuous night tangled in each other’s limbs because neither party wants to share their feelings first. It’s a current deciphering between whether you and Nai assume it’s a weakness to admit your heart, or you merely don’t want to ruin what you have with each other because the potential of it breaking down into nothing scares you both.

You don’t really know how much more you can take, though, prancing around a solidification of a potential label. It’s like toying around with a jack-in-the-box. The crank goes around and around time and time again for endless laps, but there eventually comes that breakthrough where something from the unknown finally bursts open and reveals itself. It could be ugly, it could be beautiful.

But both you and Nai don’t want to know and would rather drown in ignorance. It is bliss, after all—both metaphorically and physically.

“You wanna play it that way? Alright. Then tell me, what led to all of this?” You gesture to the current position you were entrapped in—Nai confining you with his body and arms, breaths just barely exchanging with another, and a certain aura lingering around in the dim bathroom where the music just barely booms through the walls. “What? Don’t tell me you were jealous of him?” you dare not to say Wolfwood’s nickname directly in front of the very man that loathes him entirely tonight. Your answer comes in the form of Nai’s eye twitching with a poorly-hidden covetousness. “Hm. So you were.”

“I wasn’t, stop jumping to conclusions,” he mutters immediately. Nai can’t tell whether his consciousness is being blurred by the intake of alcohol he’s consumed in the past few hours or if it was the lascivious images of you dancing to your heart’s desire on the flashing dancefloor that managed to hypnotize him.

“Oh, but you totally were,” you titter with a taunt. “C’mon, don’t think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you wanted Nico’s spot next to me when you came in, that you saw him bite my ear—” you see Nai’s eyes flicker on the same ear where a soft mark positions itself on the cusp of it made by yours truly. “—and it being the sole reason why you came to me.” You lift your head up.“Don’t think I didn’t know why you came here, to a nightclub out of all things, either, especially in this outfit,” you whisper.

Nai feels your hands touch his chest, fingers ever so gently running down his exposed skin. They unbutton a singular, tempting button to expose the beginning crevices of his abdominals before your hand latches onto his belt and pulls him towards you by the yank of it. You fight the urge to grin when he grunts and lazily sling your arms on your shoulders to bring him closer to you.

“... I’m not stupid, Nai.”

He doesn’t pull back when you run your fingers through the locks of his white blonde hair, the same shade of blonde that frames his glassy stare that prods through yours. He knows you aren’t an idiot like most people, that you’re able to read them like a book all too easily, him not being excluded in that. So he gives in—sighs softly and presses his forehead to your own, now being able to smell the faint perfume you usually wear mixed in with some hints of booze. It’s a gesture of intimacy he’s only revealed to you, and he’ll only ever reveal to you.

“So, now what?” he cedes. “Stop torturing me and tell me what you want. What do you want from me, (Y/N)?”

Eyes lifting from his exposed chest to his that stare you down with a familiar hunger, you mumble to him, “Do you want me?”

You move his hands from the wall to your hips, the same place where Wolfwood’s hands touched moments earlier. It’s almost like you want him to replace Wolfwood’s touch entirely, as if there was a space there only Nai’s hands can fulfill, now. His fingers brazen with anticipation, he drums them the same way Wolfwood did, but to his own beat… to his own rhythm… to his own song.

Nai stays physically silent, with his only reply being his hands gripping your hips tighter as a confirmation of sorts.

You take his hands squeezing your curves ever so lightly as a yes.

“Then have me.”

And with that, Nai doesn’t waste any time locking his lips with yours, doing the very thing he wanted to do tonight with the one person he desired with. All flavors of fruit are on your tongue, with his own tasting every inch of you as far as it can reach. A radiant atmosphere of lust and yearn permeates in the bathroom. The bass of the music is the only thing keeping you and him steady together as one connected being, albeit if it wasn’t there, you and him would’ve collided with all surfaces a long time ago due to the haze of desire burning within you both.

You don’t know what’s to come after this. You’ll never know as long as this torturous cycle of a fire of passion blazes in flames on a routinely basis continues because you’re not sure what to feed it next. Nai isn’t sure, either, both persons being ignorant to what has to keep the fire going for more than just a singular, libidinous night amidst each other's bodies. It nips at him and you, the way you’d share such intimacy one night, only for the morning after to go back to what you would consider “normal”, of you and him sharing bickers and taunts instead of blissful sighs and soft whispers of each other’s name, desires of want going hushed between the sheets.

A soft plea of his name echoes through the air before you’re silenced by a deepened kiss that makes you grasp onto his shoulders for dear life because you know that everything will just grow in strength the more seconds pass by. Him and you can only hope what’s to come in the lone bathroom you share with each other on such a fateful night in a fateful nightclub.

After all, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke, doesn’t it?

(a/n): situationships amirite

hi hi! i'm really surprised at myself for cranking out a fic this long in the span of only two days. for reference, "if the shoe fits" took me probably a week and a half to write or so, but i'm gonna take a wild guess and assume i wrote this to use as a distraction from my many essays due soon—yikes! that's okay, as long as i'm writing, still! i actually went to a nightclub that was the prime inspiration for this fic the other day, but i spent my time daydreaming (or nightdreaming? eveningdreaming?) about what knives would do in such a setting instead of being a normal person and drinking and clubbing. the mango dragonfruit cocktail is an actual margarita i drank during then, and though it was pretty delicious, it didn't have wolfwood spit on the straw unfortunately :/

anyways, thank you again to dem for her wonderful trigun college au (please go read it, im on my knees atp), and you for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are never unnoticed and always appreciated <;3!

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 1998 #millions knives #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader #knives x you #nai x you #million knives smut #knives smut #knives angst #millions knives angst #nicholas d wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader #wolfwood smut #trigun x reader #trigun fanfic

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