#but as soon as they turn us loose to do our work all of it is just /gone/ somehow

[hazelfoureyes]

Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut

Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?

After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonight…

Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words

maybe the tag list? Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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Fuck Joke Around and Find Out

The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggie’s fingers playing with Charlie’s, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Husk’s obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Husker’s hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.

After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, “Oh I guess it’s our turn?”

Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, “Your room or mine?”

You threw your leg over Alastor’s lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, “Pssst rooms are for squares, baby.”

Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didn’t work quite as effectively on you.

“Squares? Oh, not us.” A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ‘no’, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.

When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastor’s large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, “Thanks, trying to do it like he did,” fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. “I think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincin’ portrayal, pookie?” Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.

Alastor’s finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.

When alone together, you’d occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.

His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize you’d made the noise.

Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, “Oops. Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No need to apologize. What’s a little joking around between pals?”

You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.

“I didn’t expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.” Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. You’d never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastor’s “playing” was so convincing. You weren’t minding it, to your surprise, but you weren’t sure you understood the source material as well he did.

His head fell back with a roar, “Being an infrequent lover doesn’t mean I am a bad one.”

Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. “That would make them experts, compared to us,” You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.

“You think so?”, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, “Are you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldn’t be opposed to making you”, he grazed his nose against yours, “laugh.”

You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, “I don’t mind a good laugh, now and then.” Did you-you say that or Angel-you?

The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastor’s body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didn’t leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.

His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.

When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldn’t see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.

When did the playing around shift? Was this—- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?

You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place. Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, “Do you think this is what they’re doing now? Or is everyone already…”

A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.

Oh, yeah, no.

A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.

“What a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.

“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?”

Alastor’s ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.

”Oh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?” His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.

“No, Niffty, dear. That’s quite alright.”, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, “We were just— playing around.”

“Really? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.” She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, “Please don’t dirty the sofa, sir.” echoing behind her.

You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, “Can I be Husk next?”

I wrote this while washing dishes— the dishes aren’t very clean but neither am I

༻Masterlist༺

[serpentandlily]

Beneath the Ashes (I/II) - Azriel x Reader

Beneath the Ashes Part I - Azriel x Illyrian!Reader

Summary: Azriel finally finds the girl he’s been looking for all these years—his mate. But unfortunately for him, his mate happens to be an Illyrian who, upset over the fact that he’s turned his back on his own people, wants nothing to do with him. (Enemies to lovers vibes, angst)

a/n: based on this REQUEST. This is going to be a two part story because I kind of went a little too hard writing this haha. Thank you for your request and the inspiration! (Also I know a lot of you asked to be on a taglist for this story but since it’s only 2 parts I’m not gonna make one)

warnings: misogyny, sexism

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Part I of II

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Azriel was not happy, to say the least. Not as he landed on the cold, hard ground of one of the Illyrian war camps in the northern region of the mountains. He internally cursed at Cassian for still being on his mating honeymoon with Nesta because now he was being forced to do things Cass would normally be in charge of—primarily dealing with the Illyrians.

It wasn't a secret that Azriel hated Illyria and all its people. Hated that he came from such a barbaric, backwards culture.  He knew Cass was trying to do all he could to break the traditions Illyrians held, but Azriel had always told him they were a lost cause. If he could never see these damn mountains again, he'd consider it a blessing.

But, evidently, that was not a blessing he'd be allowed—at least, not until Cassian returned. For now, he was the one who was being sent out on these missions by his High Lord. 

Rhys had gotten word that some commotion was happening in the camp that had its people up in arms about something. He had asked Azriel to go check it out and who was he to turn down a request from his brother? So here he was. He was just hoping to get this over with soon. 

He had tried sending his shadows ahead of time to collect intel, but they had been acting weird ever since they returned to him. They had swarmed him with their cryptic messages.

Beautiful.

Our master must see. 

Permission to kill, master?

Needless to say, Azriel had no fucking idea what any of that meant. He had given them no such permission to kill, at least, not until he could see for himself what was transpiring here. 

He was passing by the training rings, ignoring the stares of the brutes who were working out and sparring within them, when he heard several sets of loud voices. He quickened his pace, following the voices into the residential section of the camp until he finally beheld what was causing the commotion. 

Three males were on the porch of one of the cabins, restraining a female Illyrian, who was thrashing around like a wildcat, screaming, "Let me go, you assholes!"

Another male Azriel recognized as the War Lord of the camp was standing on the steps leading up to the small cabin, arms crossed and a sneer on his face. A male next to him was holding a blubbering Illyrian toddler, whose arms were outstretched towards the female with tears pouring down her chubby cheeks. 

None of them had noticed him yet which Azriel used to his advantage. His shadows were already wailing when he let them loose. They spiraled towards the group, swirling around the males holding the female and yanking them away from her. All of their heads snapped in Azriel's direction except for the female. She tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled to get up and rushed towards the male next to the War Lord, not even sparing a glance at what had caused the males to unleash her. 

She went to grab the little girl from the male holding her but was quickly held back by the War Lord with a growl. The War Lord twisted her arms behind her back, holding her in place, but his glare was firmly set on Azriel.

Azriel's face displayed no emotions as he stalked forward, his hand ghosting over Truth-Teller. 

"Shadowsinger," the War Lord bit out in greeting. The other males quickly got to their feet and stood at attention. 

"Silas," Azriel said, not bothering to address him properly which made the male bristle, "Care to explain what is happening here?" 

"None of your business, Shadowsinger," Silas hissed. "I have it under control."

"Doesn't seem like it," Azriel replied, coolly. 

The female was still trying to break out of Silas's grip, cursing under her breath. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to hiss in pain as he twisted her wrists in his hands. Azriel's shadows seemed to hiss in response, poised to attack as soon as Azriel gave them permission. 

Azriel's gaze fell on the female, noting the frustrated tears in her eyes. It seemed like there had been a scuffle. Her hair was half falling out of her braid, she had scrape marks on one of her cheeks, and a bruise was beginning to form on her jaw. One of her wings was flared out proudly while the other drooped to the floor at a weird angle. His fists clenched at the sight and when she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the breath was completely knocked out of his lungs. 

Despite her tattered appearance, she was single-handedly the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He stood frozen for a moment, taken aback before he shook himself out of the spell she seemed to cast on him, realizing how inappropriate of a time it was to be ogling her. 

"Let her go, Silas," Azriel commanded in a dark voice.

"I don't take orders from you," Silas spat out. "Besides, this female has been breaking the law for months now. We're taking her into custody." 

"Fuck you," the female barked out, stomping on Silas's foot. The male cursed and went to strike her on the back of her head but Azriel's shadow caught his wrist in their grasp before he could. 

"I said," Azriel growled, lowly, causing the males to shift in place, "Let her go." 

"Fine," Silas sneered, though a tiny bit of fear flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed her to the ground in front of him. She was quick to spring back to her feet and rush towards the toddler who was still screeching. The male could hardly keep hold of the little girl.

"Let the babe go, too," Azriel snapped. The male scoffed but set the little girl down. She immediately ran to the female who bent down with her arms wide open, catching the little girl and standing with her firmly on her hip. The little girl's cries quieted down and she buried her small face in the female's neck. 

"Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Azriel snarled, taking another step closer. Half the males mirrored his step back and he fought the urge to chuckle. 

"Like I said," Silas snapped, "This female has been breaking the law—”

“What law?” Azriel asked, firmly.

“Females are not permitted to live alone nor own houses,” Silas barked out. “She has ignored our warnings—”

“My father left the cabin to me in his will!” The female shouted, causing the small toddler in her arms to whimper. She stroked the girl's hair, shushing her. “It belongs to me.”

“I don’t care what your father promised you,” Silas growled. “It is against the law for you to be living here alone. You must surrender the cabin and go live in the barracks with the other unwed females of marrying age. Your sister will be placed under the care of the matron.” 

“Like hell I’m leaving her under the care of that female! You’re just going to have her wings clipped and force her to do grueling chores all day! She stays with me!” 

“You are out of line! I knew your father wasn’t raising the two of you right. Ever since your mother passed away—”

 “Don’t you dare say another word about my parents!”  

The War Lord lunged towards the female with a growl but Azriel shadowed between them, unsheathing Truth-Teller and pressing it against the male’s throat. 

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll gut you right here in front of all of your brutes,” Azriel snarled. 

Silas stepped back with a scoff. “You want to stick your nose in our business? Fine, then she’s your problem. I expect her out of this house by the end of today, Shadowsinger, or there will be worse consequences.” 

He stormed away, his entourage trailing behind him while sending glares to the female. Azriel waited until they were out of view before he turned to look at the female but she was gone from next to him, already walking up the steps to the cabin with the babe—her sister—on her hip.

Azriel went to follow her but she stormed into the cabin and slammed the door in his face before he could so much as utter a single word. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he knocked on the door. When Rhys had mentioned a problem happening in this camp, he hadn't expected to deal with something like this. It would’ve been much easier if it had been a problem he could solve with his fists. 

When she didn't answer, he knocked harder—nearly causing the door to shutter. 

It flung open a second later, a seething female behind it. "I already told those assholes I'm not leaving. If you're here to tell me to pack up and move, you can kiss my ass."

Azriel had to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smirk at her words. He wasn't used to dealing with female Illyrians that had attitudes. Most of them kept their heads down and stayed quiet. His mother had been like that....

"I'm not here to tell you that," Azriel answered. "May I come inside?" 

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms and staring him down. He found himself even more amused at how she was trying to intimidate him. Most fae avoided him and his gaze. But a female, whose head barely reached his shoulders, seemed to be completely unfazed by him.  

"No, you may not," she snapped. "Anything you need to say to me can be said perfectly fine from where you're standing." 

“Can I at least bring a healer to come check out your injuries?” He eyed the scrapes on her face, the bruise and her drooping wing. Azriel’s chest ached at the sight and anger pulsed under his skin. He wanted to turn around and go rip those males apart limb by limb for laying a hand on her.

“I don’t need your help, shadowsinger,” she spat out.

"Fine," Azriel sighed. "I was sent by the High Lord because there's been reports of someone here causing disarray. I'm going to assume that someone is you." 

She shrugged, nonchalantly, her eyes flickering between his own and the shadows swirling around him that wouldn't shut up about how beautiful she was, how brave....They were singing her praise. It confused him. His shadows had never acted like this before. 

When she failed to answer, Azriel cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Will you answer my question?”

“Aren’t you the spymaster?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be able to gather intel yourself and not rely on a lowly Illyrian female?”

“A lowly Illyrian female?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at her crass words towards herself.

“Isn’t that how you and all the High Lord’s dogs view us?” Her tone was biting, her eyes filled with hate.

Azriel shifted, at a loss for words. He was used to being met with hostility by the Illyrians, but never usually from the females themselves. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

It was a lousy response, but he truly had no idea what to say. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him and moved from the doorway, grasping the door. 

“Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t care enough to do so,” she snapped. “Now, if that is all, you can kindly escort yourself off my property, shadowsinger. Thank you.”

The door slammed in his face a second later.

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Azriel returned a few hours later with a letter from the High Lord in his hands. He stormed through the camp, once again ignoring all the glares sent his way. He pushed his way inside the main war tent where Silas was sitting at his desk, twirling a dagger in his hands. His dark eyes looked up at him as he walked in, narrowing.

“You’re back,” Silas said, voice dripping with disdain. “I noticed that the female has still not been relocated from the cabin.”

Azriel strode forward and slammed the letter down on his desk. Silas’s eyes dipped down to it, quickly reading the short message before he looked back up at Azriel with a sneer. “What is this?”

“A notice from the High Lord and Lady,” Azriel answered, face unreadable. “Any laws that forbid a female from living alone or owning property are hereby revoked. This repeal shall be set in motion immediately.” 

"I can read just fine, Shadowsinger," Silas snapped. "I meant what the fuck is this? Does Rhysand think he can just snap his fingers and remove laws that have been around for centuries? I refuse to allow this."

"You'll address the High Lord properly or I'll cut your tongue out for your disrespect," Azriel growled. "The High Lord and High Lady can do whatever they want. You will abide by these new laws or your title of War Lord in this camp will be revoked." 

Silas looked like he wanted to say more, a vein in his forehead pulsing, but he only tightened his hands into fists and let out a long breath. "Very well then, Shadowsinger. I assume you've already informed Y/n of this?" 

"Y/n?"

Silas smirked. "You ran to tattle on us to the High Lord and didn't even know the name of the bitch you—"

Before anything else could come out of the War Lord's mouth, Azriel stalked forward and kicked his desk over, causing both Silas and all his paperwork and trinkets to smash on the floor. The War Lord let out a pathetic gasp in fear, scrambling to his feet and pressing himself against the back of the tent.

"Talk about her like that again," Azriel snarled. "And I'll rip out your throat."

Silas quickly tried to school his composure but Azriel could still see the lingering terror in his eyes. Silas straightened out his leathers before glaring at him. "It's nice to see the Illyrian is still in you after all this time, Shadowsinger. Once a brute, always a brute—isn't that what you like to say?" 

Azriel felt his pulse spike at Silas's words. He hated being reminded that he was Illyrian, even more so being compared to the worst of them. He wasn’t even sure why such rage had sparked in him in the first place. Silas's lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the way his words striked through him. But Azriel didn't wait around to hear what else the asshole had to say, letting his raging shadows swoop him into their darkness. 

He stepped out of the shadows and onto the porch of the cabin he had been at earlier. He took several breaths, trying to calm himself before gently knocking on the door. After no one answered for a moment, he lifted his fist to knock again but the door was pulled open, leaving his hand to hover in the air. He dropped it to his side, narrowing his eyebrows as he was met with no one.

"Hewwo."

Azriel nearly jumped in fright before his gaze dropped to the toddler that stood in the doorway. It was the little girl from earlier, Y/n's sister. He swallowed harshly, eyes darting around the foyer of the cabin in hopes that her sister would pop out any second but no one came. He wasn't good with children, and wasn't used to being around them. Nyx was the only child he had ever really been around and he was still a baby. 

Azriel sighed and crouched down on his haunches, making him more eye level for the little girl. Her shoulder length hair was the same color as her sister’s, her eyes too. The resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. 

"Hello there," Azriel said as gently as he could. "Is your sister home by any chance?" 

“Mhm,” the little girl hummed, busy watching the swirling shadows all around him. 

"Do you think you can go get her for me?" 

She shook her head no, her hair bobbing with the motion. 

"Why not?" Azriel asked, keeping his voice light.

"Cause I'll get in trouble," she said with a little lisp. "Mm not 'pposed to open the door." 

Azriel smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. He was surprised that she didn't seem scared of him or his shadows, as most kids were. "Don't worry, I won't tell her you opened the door for me. It can be our little secret."

She looked to be contemplating his promise, her little nose scrunched up. One of his shadows whisked forward and started swirling around her tiny frame. To Azriel's surprise, the little girl giggled, swiping her hand around to try and catch it. 

"Suri, what are you—Get away from her!" 

Y/n came thundering down the hall, yanking her sister away from the doorframe. Azriel stood to his full height, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as she glared at him before turning to look down at her sister.

"Suri, go to your room." 

"No," Suri pouted, crossing her little arms. "I wanna play with the shadows."

Azriel's lips twitched. This was quite possibly the first time a child had ever seemed anything but scared of his shadows. It was oddly endearing. 

"Go to your room," Y/n commanded in a stronger voice. "Now."

Suri stomped her foot but did as she was told, disappearing from his view. 

"What are you doing back here?" She hissed, once her sister was gone. 

Azriel pulled out the other parchment paper he had brought with him, the same notice he had given Silas. He held it out for her. "I came to deliver this." 

She took the paper from him, glancing at him suspiciously. Azriel watched as her pretty doe eyes scanned the parchment, reading Rhysand's elegant script. To his surprise, she started to chuckle to herself. She handed it back to him, her face twisted into a mocking smirk. 

"Do you honestly think this is going to stop them from trying to kick me out of this house?" She asked him, sarcastically. His eyebrows furrowed. "I'm guessing you're going to patrol this camp for a week or two to make sure they're adhering to the notice and then you'll wipe your hands clean of this all, pretending the High Lord solved everything. But you know the day you stop showing up here, Silas will be at my doorstep." 

"I can assure you that we'll do everything we can to make sure all the WarLords follow these new laws," Azriel said, his face unreadable and his voice detached. She shook her head with a smile that lacked any warmth. “I promise you that.”

"Right," she drawled out, "Well, thank you so much for your help, shadowsinger." 

She went to shut the door but Azriel stuck his hand out, catching it before she could. His gaze fell to her drooping wing, still bent at an awkward angle. "Please, let me bring a healer to attend to your wing." 

Her wing could heal on her own. It would probably only take a day or two, but just seeing it made Azriel's chest ache. He knew the pain she must be in. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend like you care about my wings." 

"I've broken a wing before, too," he explained. "I know how much it hurts. Please, let me help you." 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you want to know the difference between my wings and your's, shadowsinger? Your wings healed. You get to fly. Mine will never heal."

Azriel's gaze dropped back to her wings, now noticing the two scars—clipped. Her wings had been clipped. His heart dropped into his stomach, rage bubbling to the surface instead.

"Who?" he growled, his voice ice cold. 

"Like I said," she bit out, "Don't pretend like you care." 

"I do care," Azriel replied, fists clenching. And it was true, he did. Wing clipping was a heinous crime, one that had been outlawed since Rhys was sworn in as the High Lord of the Night Court. Of course, sometimes the practice of wing clipping still took place in remote camps that slipped through the cracks. "Wing clipping has been forbidden since—"

"I am well aware that wing clipping is forbidden," she snapped. "But like your stupid little notice, no one cares. And the High lord and all of his cronies, you included, Shadowsinger, have made it very clear that you don't either." 

"We do care," Azriel argued. "We do. But we cannot keep watch of all the camps at all times. We rely on people reporting it—" 

"Oh, spare me from hearing your excuses," she cut him off with a growl. "Do you want to know who did this to me? Here's a clue—go look in the High Lord's desk for a letter addressed from me. I've been sending one every single day for the past six years so there's bound to be at least one still around." 

"Six...six years?" Azriel questioned, quietly. "You've been sending a letter every day for six years and not one of them was ever answered?"

Sure, Rhysand had been gone for fifty years, of course and the rest of them had been unable to leave Velaris thanks to him. Then, they had been busy with the war and didn’t have time to deal with inner court problems. But it had been two years since then and she was still sending letters. Letters looking for justice for what happened to her. Letters gone unanswered.

"Not a single one," she huffed.

"Y/n...I am so sorry—"

"Save it," she barked out. "Now, if we're done here, I'd like you to leave." 

"Please, let me help you—"

Azriel choked in surprise as something within snapped. He couldn’t breath, taking a single step back as a golden thread weaved its way through the space between him and the female standing before him. 

Before his brain could even process what just happened, the door was slammed in his face. But Azriel stood frozen on her porch. Frozen in shock because he had finally found his mate. After all these years, he had finally found the person he had been searching for. 

And she absolutely hated him. 

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Your wing had healed enough by the next morning that you could lift it off the ground, though it was rather painful to do so. Your pride made you suck it up, not wanting to go to the healer and have anyone touch your wings. No one had laid a hand on your wings since the day they were clipped and you wanted to keep it that way.

You got ready for the day, putting on one of your mother's old white, chemise dresses. It fell to the top of your boots, swishing around your ankles. You layered a dark blue skirt over it before putting on a front lace-up corset. You grimaced as you did up the buttons under your injured wings before you tightened the corset until it fit snuggly. Lastly, you threw on a cloak. It was snowing outside today and the last thing you needed was to freeze to death.

You stepped in the hallway, the cabin quiet. You went to wake up Suri to get her ready for the day. Normally she was still asleep, so you were surprised when you heard her voice the closer you got to the door to her bedroom. 

"Bad doggy," she babbled, her voice muffled through the door. "You can't go in there." 

Your eyes widened, realizing she was talking to someone or something. You quickly slammed her door open, eyes darting around in concern. Suri jumped as her door banged open, spinning around on her bed to look at you. A small shadow wisped behind her, like it was hiding. 

"Suri?" You questioned. "Who were you talking to?" 

"Issy!" Suri sang out, jumping off her bed in her little pajamas. She still called you issy, unable to pronounce your name easily or the word sister. "The doggy came back!"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "The what?"

The shadow darted out from behind Suri, swirling around her and causing the little girl to giggle, "Doggy!"

Your eyes narrowed. One of Azriel's shadows had not only lingered behind, but had been staying with your baby sister. You felt your pulse spike with anger. As if it could sense your emotions, the shadow stopped swirling around and instead pressed itself on the floor like it was bashful and guilty. 

You scoffed, "Go back to your master! We don't want you here." 

The shadow wisped upwards, disappearing through the ceiling. A realization had you clenching your fists. Suri pouted. "Issy, you scared the doggy away!" 

"That was not a dog—" you cut yourself off with a sigh. "Suri, go brush your teeth and your hair while I get breakfast ready, okay?" 

"No," Suri grumbled, her tiny nose twitching. "Not unless you get doggy back!" 

"If you do as I say, I'll make you strawberry pancakes for breakfast." 

"Strawb'rry pancakies!" Suri squealed, the shadow momentarily forgotten. Satisfied with your deal, your sister rushed off to get ready. You left her to it, stalking outside through the backdoor. You walked a few paces away from the cabin, staring up at the roof, using a hand to block the rising sun from your eyes.

"I know you're up there!" you shouted. "Don't bother trying to hide!" 

Footsteps were heard and then there was Azriel, peering down at you from his perch on your roof. His annoyingly beautiful face was near unreadable, his hair in a bit of disarray like he'd ran his hand through it one too many times. Dark circles were underneath his hazel eyes and those familiar shadows were whirling around him.

"Why are you on my roof?" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Good morning, Y/n," Azriel said, his voice low and husky from disuse through the night. "I've been keeping watch. I wanted to make sure none of those males would bother you again." 

"I already told you I don't need or want your help, Shadowsinger! Now get the fuck off my roof," you snarled at him. You didn't want him here. You didn't want his stupid shadows near you or Suri either. Besides, since when did he care what happened to you or any other Illyrian females? He had turned his back on his own people the day he ran off to the High Lord's perfect little city, pretending like he wasn't one of you, wasn't Illyrian. 

Easy for him. He was a male that could get siphons to use his powers correctly, a male who hadn't been forced down and clipped. He could fly wherever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. He had money and resources you wouldn't even bother dreaming for. Azriel could wipe his hands clean and pretend like he hadn't been born in these mountains and hadn't left anyone behind to suffer when he left. 

It was one thing to escape this brutalizing, barbaric way of living. It was another to gain power and influence within the court and not bother to help your own people. Azriel was a traitor and he could go to hell for all you cared. 

You hated him for it. Hated him and all of his friends. Hated the High Lord and Lady who did little to help anyone here. Hated the General for leading your father to his death in the war. You hated them all.  

Azriel let out a quiet sigh. "I know you don't need my help, but I... I can't just leave knowing those males might come back and hurt you again. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it."

"I don't care about your stupid promises," you bit back. "Get off my roof and go home, Azriel. You're not wanted here." 

"I know you hate me and I know we've all let you down," Azriel replied, guilt shimmering in his eyes. "I'm going to do everything I can to make it up to you, Y/n. I promise." 

"Again with the promises! Your words mean nothing to me," you grumbled, tossing your hands in the air. "I don't have time for this. You know what? You want to spend all of eternity sitting on my roof, you go ahead! But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off!"

You didn't bother waiting for his response, storming back into your house and slamming the door shut behind you. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

A week went by and Azriel kept watch over you the entire time. Every day you would walk outside and peer up at the roof to see him perched there, oftentimes twirling his dagger in his hand lazily. He'd give you a small smile that looked more like a grimace and you'd roll your eyes and go back inside. 

You hated that some part of you did feel better knowing he was there. You knew his reputation and you knew none of the males in this camp would bother you as long as he was there. But it still infuriated you to see his face every morning. To see him shake the snow off his wings. To see him glare down at everyone in your camp like you were all beneath him. 

You especially hated how much Suri had come to love his shadows, always chasing them down the hallways of the cabin. You just wanted him gone. 

And it seemed like you got your wish two weeks later.

It was nighttime, the house quiet now that you'd coaxed Suri into going to bed. You were getting ready for bed yourself, dressed in a nightgown and putting out the fire when a series of soft knocks caught your attention. You frowned, pausing to look at the door. Who would be coming by at this time? Certainly no one good. 

You were debating on ignoring it when a dark shadow whisked its way underneath the door. 

"Y/n," Azriel called out. "It's just me." 

You rolled your eyes and opened your door, knowing he wouldn't leave until you did so.

"What?" You eyed him, taking in his disheveled appearance. You wondered how he survived spending the night in the snow. Just the small draft that came in from opening the door had you shivering. You hugged yourself, your hair blowing gently in the ice cold breeze.

Azriel seemed at a loss for words for a second, his eyes roaming down your body before he met your gaze. His cheeks turned a bit pink as you raised an eyebrow at him. He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion.

"I need to leave for a few days," Azriel finally said. "The High Lord is sending me on a small mission. I...I would feel a lot better if you'd let me take you and your sister somewhere else while I'm gone. I can set the two of you up in a nice inn or tavern in Velaris. Or you could stay at my personal residence. Just for a few days." 

You stared at him utterly perplexed. "You're...you're joking, right?" 

He shook his head looking dead serious. "No, Y/n, I'm not. I worry what will happen if I'm not here to watch over you. Please, just...just let me help. It might be nice for Suri to take her to Velaris and let her see the city." 

"You're out of your mind," you hissed. "I'm not leaving my house and certainly not with you. I already told you I don't need your help."

You went to shut the door but Azriel reached out and grabbed it before you could.

"Please, I just want to help—"

“Azriel, I have survived here on my own for the past two years since my father died in the war,” you growled. “You can't sit on my roof forever. If you truly wanted to fix things, you would've done so centuries ago. So just leave, Azriel. And don't bother coming back." 

“I do care,” Azriel pleaded. “Please—”

"I am not leaving," you snapped. "I am not letting those stupid males run me from my own home. I don't know why you even care! And stop with the whole 'I promised you' thing. You don’t even know me!”

He opened his mouth to say something else but you slammed the door shut in his face. You locked the deadbolt before letting out a sigh. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Azriel was worried. Worried and scared and angry. Worried that Silas and his goons would bother his mate while he was gone. Scared that they’d hurt her. And angry at just the thought of that. His chest ached as he thought about his mate and her clear hatred towards him. He couldn’t blame her for it. She was right. He had abandoned Illyria a long time ago. 

But that needed to change. He needed that to change. Not just for his mate’s sake but for her sister, for Nyx, for all the females and children whose lives were awful because of the males in charge of all their camps. 

She had been the wake up call he needed. He had the privilege of being a male in Illyria. He got to keep his wings. Got to work at having a different life then the one he was born into. His mate hadn’t had those opportunities. She was flightless, stuck to the ground and stuck in her miserable camp. 

Azriel wanted nothing more than to just grab her and her sister and get them far away from Illyria. To bring them to his apartment in Velaris where he could take care of them, could keep them safe. 

But his mate didn’t trust him. 

He would do anything to prove himself to her. Prove that he did care for her and all the other Illyrian females. No matter how much hate he was met with, he’d keep crawling back until he earned her forgiveness and a chance to give her a better life. 

She deserved that more than anything. Not just because she was his mate but because she had been so strong all these years, standing up to males twice her size and keeping her sister’s wings from being mutilated like hers had been. She didn’t choose to be Illyrian anymore than he did. 

And Gods, he wanted her to stop hating him. He wanted her to give him a chance. Just one chance to show her what she truly deserved. He had learned so much about her by just watching her this week and he knew that no other female would come close to capturing his heart and attention the way she had in just that short span of time he’d known her. 

Azriel knew he didn’t deserve her or her forgiveness. He knew she was too good for him. Too beautiful, too pure of heart. He could see that just by the way she took care of her sister and the other females in her village, despite the torment it brought her from the males. 

He let out a sigh, his eyes still locked on the camp of Autumn Soldiers. He was doing a reconnaissance mission. Beron was up to something again and these soldiers had been spotted on the coast. 

It had been two days since he left his mate and so far, nothing had been unknowingly sent down the bond except for her normal moods she fluctuated with during the day. 

He just needed to finish this mission and rush back to Velaris to drop off his report to Rhysand before he could get back to her. He normally liked to take his time on his missions but this was quite possibly the first time he ever had a want to get back faster. He was hoping to sneak into the River House and set his report on Rhys's desk without seeing anyone. He'd been ignoring and skipping family dinners for the past week and knew they'd have a lot to say about it. 

Azriel faltered as a wave of fear crashed through him. No, not fear. Terror. Unbridled terror and then pain. He sucked in a breath, nearly falling from the tree he was perched in. He was frozen for a second before he realized what was happening---his mate was in danger. 

It took him less than a second to decide to abandon the mission and shadow all the way back to the Illyrian mountains. Azriel let out a curse when he stepped out of the shadows in front of his mate's cabin to see it covered in flames. Someone had set it on fire and it was quickly crumbling under the flames. His heart was beating in his chest as he strained his ears to make sure no one was inside.

But then the most heart-stopping, chill inducing sound was heard ringing through the camp.

His mate's screams.

He sprinted towards the sound, his boots pounding against the cold hard ground. It led him to the town center where a crowd had formed, males hollering and shouting encouragement at whatever was happening. 

Azriel pushed his way through the crowd, shoving aside male after male until he reached the front. His heart dropped in his stomach as he beheld what was happening before him. 

His mate on her knees, holding up the tatters of her shirt to maintain her dignity. Silas standing behind with a whip in hand, raising it in the air again. Blood all over the white snow around his mate, staining it red. Tear streaks running down his mate's face, her beautiful face pale and twisted in pain. One of Silas's commanders holding a crying and screaming Suri, her tiny fists pounding on his chest. 

Azriel wished he knew what happened next. Wished he had this memory to look back on whenever he remembered the rage he felt. But one second he was standing there staring at his mate in horror and the next second, he was surrounded by dead bodies with Truth-teller in his hand dripping with blood. The camp had fallen silent and his ears were ringing, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. 

Suri had been dropped in the chaos and had rushed towards her sister, throwing her small arms around her neck as she sobbed.

And his mate.

His beautiful mate was staring right at him, eyes wide from witnessing the carnage he had just unleashed in this camp. Silas laid dead behind her, his shadows still ravaging his body. Slit throats, broken necks on all the other males that laid dead at his feet. But his mate was looking at him.

Azriel took a step towards her, watching her carefully as she weakly wrapped an arm around her sister's body while her eyes never left his. And he knew the mating bond had just snapped for her, could see the realization in her eyes. 

"N-no," she stammered out, her voice cracking. "No. Not you. Not...Not you! Anyone but you!"

Azriel could feel her dread pouring down the bond amidst the pain and terror she felt. He felt his heart crack in his chest, heard his shadows wailing as they too felt her pain and sorrow. 

But his broken heart at finding his mate and hearing that she didn't want him was not important in this moment. Not as his mate's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped to the ground.

Azriel rushed forward, scooping both his unconscious mate in his arms and her crying sister before disappearing in a whirl of screaming shadows. 

[lidiasloca]

Ok this one of my ideas not sure if I have actually read it before or if it was a fever dream. Az has a girlfriend/ mate that the inner circle hasn’t met before.she works with marja as a high and has maybe other powers I don’t know. I have 2x options in which to take this idea. 1. Azzy gets very hurt on a mission and his brought to you to fix him. Very emotional IC and reader. They save him blah blah. 2. Some of the healers are working on so far out town. Az was cutie and like don’t go. She was like boo you go all the time I going to help people. Love you be back soon. But while they are there they are kidnapped by someone ( you pick). Word gets back to Marja who tells Rhys and Az happens to be there. Az freaks out when he hears our name on the list of miss. Blah blah.

totally cool if you don’t wanna use. It is just an idea.

azriel being worried about you going on a mission

azriel x reader

fulff

a/n: i ain't really not for angst these days, so i only took the beginning of your second idea, hope u dont mind :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“You will not go,” Azriel sates, and his voice is so commanding and serious you stop in your tracks. 

“Azriel, we’ve been through this. I’m a healer. This is my job.”

“No, your job is to heal people being safe,” he explains as if you were stupid. You know he means well, but you are growing more irritated by the moment. “Your job is not putting your life in danger.”

“Well, saving lives in the middle of a war comes obviously with my life being in danger.”

Giving him your back, you continue packing all you need for the journey. You hear his footsteps getting closer, then his hand is on your back, gently stroking. “Y/N. Please,” and it sounds enough of a plea for you to turn and face him. 

“Azriel, you constantly put yourself in danger. Almost everyday I have to see you leave to work, with no assurance you will come back.”

His eyes drop to his feet in defeat. “I know, and I know it’s not fair for me to ask you this. But - I simply don’t care.” He watches you again, a spark of confidence and hope settles in his eyes. “I cannot risk loosing you, and the risk of loosing you is higher than yours is to lose me on a mission.” When he catches your frown, he adds, “You must give me this; I know how to defend myself better than you in the battlefield.”

You let out a soft chuckle, the seriousness of before fading a bit as a timid smile blooms on his face.

But your mind is made up. “Azriel,” you sigh. “I must go still.”

His lips close to a thin line, worry back in his face. He takes your hands in his scarred ones. You are to hear his angry pleads again, but to your surprise, he simple answers, “Alright.”

You open your eyes wide in astonishment. “Alright?”

Your mate grins before adding, “Alright.” And that grin means two things. Trouble, or planed trouble. 

“What is your mind up to, Az?” you ask accusingly, as if he was no more than a kid planing mischief. 

His grin grows more teasing. “Nothing, nothing,” he says as he turns to your travel trunk, putting things. His things. “It’s just that I'm going with you.”

“What?”

“What?” he says, totally unfazed by the situation. “You need protection. I want to know you are safe. You are no good with a sword, yet excellent healing people. I’m quite good with a sword. I think it’s a perfect plan.”

“You miss that Rhys has assigned you a mission in the Spring Court. Tomorrow.”

He looks at you, looking at you as if what you’ve said it’s dumb. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Love,” he says, and his voice is serious again. “Please. I beg you, don’t make me suffer like this. Let me accompany you. I will talk to Rhys and he will understand. He knows how terrible it is to know your mate is in danger, no mater how strong or brave she is. And you are, but I am not strong enough to spend every second of the following days not knowing if you are safe.”

You sigh, now you are defeated. “Alright.” He smiles triumphantly, so you are quickly to add sternly, “But no scaring anyone that comes near me, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” and he has that teasing smirk on his face again. 

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[lecsainz]

Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.

I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.

HOLDING YOUR HAND

parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader

summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.

an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.

It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.

Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.

After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.

Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.

You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.

Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.

She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.

"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."

It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.

During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.

"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.

Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.

She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.

When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.

Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.

"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.

While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.

"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.

She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .

[mncxbe]

Heyyy! I hope you are taking care of yourself and touching grass once per day! Don't want you to get isolated that much😔

I request a NSFW prompt 3! With our fav suicidal maniac! DAZAIIIII!!!😊😊😊😊😊😊

Take care girly! Pwease take care of yourself🥺🥺🥺

you're so sweet🥺🩷I did not only touch plenty of grass today, but also drank water and spent time with my besties (health queen fr). hope you're taking good care of yourself too♡

3– fingering you under the blanket during movie night with friends

The film Ranpo chose for the Ada's monthly movie night rolled in the background, but you had a hard time paying attention. I mean, how could you, when your boyfriend's hand was shoved down your panties, his skillful fingers toying with your clit.

You were snuggling Dazai on one side of the couch. The cushy blanket wrapped around your bodies at least provided the tiniest amount of privacy but despite how risky the whole situation was, Dazai wasn't planning to stop his ministrations too soon. Fuck, he was such a tease...

You were a blushing mess, rubbing your thighs together to release the tension between them. You were pretty sure you've never been wetter in your entire life– the heat provided by your bodies paired up with his incessant touches made your cunt a sopping mess, sticky slick coating his digits. Your fingers dug in Dazai's forearm as he gave your puffy clit a harsher flick, making you tremble in pleasure.

"What's wrong, bella, are you cold? Do you want me to bring an extra blanket?" asked your boyfriend in a casual tone but you could see the taunting smile etched on his lips from the corner of your eye.

The man really had some nerve– mocking your sorry state when he was the one who caused all of it. As you squeezed your thighs together Dazai slowly pried them back open with his thumb, using the side of his hand as leverage to keep your legs apart. He dragged his middle finger along your slit, slowly working his way up to your clit and drawing loose circles on it again.

You shifted your body closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder "Please, 'samu I can't–"

"I know you like it, sweetie, you're drenched. Plus, I know how much you love it when I touch you like this in public, you're such a dirty girl" he whispered against the shell of your ear, masking the brief interaction with a chaste kiss to your temple. His words made your pussy flutter and of course he didn't miss it.

"I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, pretty girl?" he cooed, pressing his ring and middle finger on your needy clit as you nodded eagerly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The moment you gave him the go he resumed circling your clit, occasionally rubbing it between his fingers. Each little touch pushed you closer to your high, but what did it for you were the downright obscene things he was whispering in your ear.

"There you go, baby. Can't wait to get home and eat this messy pussy out. I don't think you're gonna get much sleep tonight."

You were so damn grateful that Ranpo turned up the volume of the TV a while ago so no one could hear the choked moan that slipped past your lips when you came. Your hips jolted up and Dazai cupped your pussy, slowly rubbing your clit with his hand, helping you ride out your high and preventing you from squirming too much.

"Shh keep it down, bella. Don't want everyone else to find out what we just did, do you?"

You would've slapped the obnoxious grin off his face if you hadn't been so weak and fucked out– though you were ashamed to admit, this was probably one of the best orgasms of your life.

Your boyfriend carefully removed his hand from your panties and wiped the excess of slick on your inner thigh before wrapping his arm around your waist and snuggling closer to you. The innocent smile on his face was enough to calm your nerves. Yea, Dazai was an obnoxious bastard sometimes and his teasing never ended, but he was still the love of your life so you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him.

[reidmotif]

Behind Closed Doors Pt. 2

Summary: Reader and Spencer get caught having sex in the storage closet, in possibly the most embarrassing way possible.

A/N: This is a requested Part 2 to my other fic by the same name, "Behind Closed Doors" . For the full experience, read them back to back!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, drinking/drinking games, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, semi-public sex, tipsy sex (if you squint), exhibitionism (kind of)

Word Count: 2.9k

The storage closet at the BAU had become somewhat of an unlikely sanctuary for Spencer and I. 

I didn’t realize how much I’d end liking it, especially since my boyfriend and I had always managed just fine with no PDA at work for long periods of time, but once I got a taste of it- I was fucking addicted. 

Maybe it was the thrill of knowing we could be caught at any moment, or the idea of someone hearing my moans through the thin door of the small space, begging Spencer for more and more until I was practically sobbing. 

Or maybe it was that Spencer seemed to lose all control when we were in the closet, any and all previous inhibitions and protests leaving him as soon as we closed the door, his hands immediately sneaking under my shirt, cupping my bra and removing it, touching me in any way fathomable.  His lips would make their way down my neck, teasing me until I was needy and desperate, and then he’d let loose, fucking me like we’d never get the chance to do this again. 

All in all, the closet was definitely a wonderful addition to the places we’d had sex in.

When Spencer and I had arrived at the bar for drinks after our most recent case, we weren’t really expecting too much from the night. It was meant to be celebratory, to commence a job well done from the entire team and while nights like this could get rowdy, Spencer and I had already planned to leave earlier into the night than usual to spend some time with just each other. (And to just have loads of sex, truthfully). 

Spencer had his hand in mine as we entered, spotting our team in the back in a little booth, already seeming to have gotten started on their drinks for that night. They smiled and waved us over and we approached them. Spencer let me slide in first, while he scooted in next to me, our thighs touching due to the small and intimate setting of the booth. It didn’t bother him, and he let his hand let go of mine before placing it on my thigh. It was comforting, as if a way to subtly tether us to each other even while we were in front of the team. 

We all exchanged hellos and pleasantries before Derek pushed two shots towards us. 

“Drink up.” He said, with a smirk. “For being late.” He added. 

I rolled my eyes playfully, before grabbing the drink and tipping my head back and taking it. The familiar burn of tequila hit the back of my throat, and I made a face. 

“Eugh. Tequila? Seriously, Derek?” I said, scrunching up my face and placing the shot glass down, watching as Spencer mimicked my actions, having a similar reaction, albeit less pronounced than mine. 

“Come on, pretty girl.” Derek said, winking. “Live a little. Plus, we all did them before you were here, so it’s only fair.” 

I laughed a little, already feeling a little tipsy and nodded. “Fine. Fine.” I said. “I’m not leaving here without at least one Cosmo in me though.” 

After a trip to the bar and a few drinks, conversation became lively, and jokes were exchanged freely. Everyone had loosened up quite a considerable amount, including Hotch, who was known for a much more stoic appearance at these things. 

It was JJ who eventually suggested we all take part in a drinking game, a habit from her teenage years emerging, when the options for entertainment in her small town were limited between drinking or visiting a local grocery store. If there was anyone skilled at turning a seemingly mundane situation into a lively one, it was her.

“Ooh!” Penelope said, clearly enticed by the idea. “What do you propose we do?” She said, clasping her hands excitedly together and laughing. 

“How about Never Have I Ever?” JJ suggests, smirking. I internally groaned. Never Have I Ever was fun, but when it turned sexual it was always a bit awkward for Spencer and I specifically. Whereas the married members of our team had the luxury of not having their partners there when risque questions were asked,  Spencer and I would awkwardly put down both our fingers at the same time, watching as our team put two and two together and realize we’d actually done that thing together. It was all in good fun and it didn’t bother me or him that much. We were a couple. Of course we had sex- but still. Having everyone at the table know that the man who was the cause for all my put-down fingers and empty shot glasses was actually right next to me always proved to make some interesting situations for the two of us. 

Still, we agreed good naturedly and smiled, as noises of approval spread among the table, everyone seemingly on board with the idea.

JJ looked happy, opting to ask the first question, since it was her suggestion in the first place.

“Okay, okay.” JJ says, excitedly. “Never have I ever.. slept with a coworker.” She flashed a mischievous smile, her eyes seemingly drifting towards our side of the table.

Spencer and I immediately groaned and the table erupted in laughter. 

“Sorry, sorry.” JJ said, putting her hands up in playful defense. “You know I had to. It’s practically tradition at this point when we play."

Spencer and I clinked our respective drinks with a small smile exchanged between the two of us, letting the bitter and burning liquid plague our throats. Penelope took a shot as well, since she had been with Kevin. We all argued for a bit that technically JJ’s relationship hinged on the fact that she’d met her husband working on a case. It was eventually decided that since Will never worked at the BAU specifically, JJ was void from putting a finger down. Even then, JJ wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to drink and took a shot anyway, and grinned. “Onto the next person.” She said, raising her shot glass to the person on her right. 

Derek beamed brightly, being the next person in succession to ask a question. “Alright, my turn.” Derek pauses. “Never have I ever had a threesome.” He says, confidently.

Emily smiled, sipping from her glass. “That’s me.” She said, tipping her head back and seemingly having no reaction. 

“Really Prentiss?” Derek said, smirking a bit. “How was he?” 

“Who said there was a ‘he’ at all?” Prentiss fired back, with a smirk and Derek nodded, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “Damn.” 

“Damn indeed.” Prentiss said, laughing a bit. “My turn. Erm. Never have I ever had sex in public.” 

Spencer and I glanced at each other, hesitated, before lifting up our drinks to our lips simultaneously. The entire team’s eyes widened, watching us. 

“Hold on- what?” Penelope said, leaning over. “No way! You two are so.. proper!” She exclaimed, in disbelief. “Where would you even..?” She says, trailing off, trying to figure out how she could reason this in her mind. 

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell.” I say with a smirk. Spencer let his hand snake around my waist, away from the eyes of our incredulous coworkers. 

Derek laughs a little. “Well, at least we can be sure you two aren't the closet couple.” Derek remarks, and the team laughs. "That isn't something you'd ever do."

“Closet couple?” Spencer says, and even if he’s trying to hide it, I could sense the edge in his voice. 

“You know!" Penelope said, excitedly. “Nobody knows who they are- but there’s this couple who keeps sneaking into the storage closet off the hallways to have sex.” 

Prentiss interrupts. “I’m telling you, it’s that guy and girl downstairs in Records.” She says, nodding with absolute certainty. “All alone in that basement all day? I’d want sex that makes me scream like that too.” 

I heard the words and could feel my cheeks immediately heat up. Jesus, they were talking about me. Spencer and I were fully aware of the fact that we could be caught, especially since we weren’t exactly the best at staying quiet, but hearing our team discuss us- our sex, right in front of us without even realizing it was a mortifying experience nonetheless. 

“I just wanna know what he’s doing to her in there.” JJ muses, and everyone nodded in agreement. “Like, are you having sex or absolutely murdering the girl in there?” 

Spencer blushed at that, and now both of us were avoiding eye contact with the team, but they seemed totally unfazed, considering they were continuing their conversation about the aforementioned couple. 

“I swear, somedays I want to stand outside that closet just to see who comes out, but they spend such an ungodly amount of time in there and there’s only so long you can listen to two people having sex before it gets weird.” Emily remarked, and JJ laughed. 

“We’d have to take shifts, trying to catch them in the act.” and everyone agreed, nodding. “He must last long if they can spend that much time there..” JJ noted, offhandedly. 

“As fun as it is to speculate on who’s having sex in a closet.” Hotch starts, “It’s getting late. I’m going to finish us off with an easy one.” Hotch says, looking at the team. 

“Never have I ever had sex in a storage closet.”  Hotch says, clearly expecting none of us to take the last few remaining shot glasses on the table. 

Spencer bit his lip, hesitantly reaching over the table to take two shots for himself and me, and we both downed it. As we set our glasses down, we were met with the shocked faces of our coworkers. Derek's mouth was slightly agape, and Penelope pointed between the two of us, trying to connect the dots.

“You know what?” I say, loudly, before any of them can say anything. “I think that’s our cue to leave.” I comment, starting to push Spencer out of the booth, and he immediately understands my urgency. He grabs my hand and nods. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late.” He says, hurriedly getting out of the booth. “We’ll see you all on Monday!” He let his strong grip nearly drag me out of the booth, and we had our backs to the team in a split second.

“Hold on! You can’t just-” Penelope called out, but we’d already made it halfway across the bar before our coworkers could question us about what had just happened. As we left the bar in a panicked rush and felt the cold wind nipping at us, we took one look at each other and burst into laughter. 

“Is it safe to assume they know?” Spencer said, through laughs. 

My own chuckles came out a little embarrassed. “Incredibly safe to assume, actually.” I said, smirking at him nonetheless. “Now we know that all our coworkers think you’re murdering me during sex.” I say, playfully nudging his shoulder. 

Spencer wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into a soft, yet passionate kiss. It takes me by surprise but I immediately melt into it, wrapping my arms around him. I can feel his lips moving against mine, and when he slips his tongue in, I can feel the taste of liquor transferring from his mouth to mine. He pulls back and grins, boyishly. 

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” Spencer said, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke.

I bit my lip. He looked so fucking sexy right now, the adrenaline from the game and the drinks making his complexion look rosy and hot. His hair was messy from our kiss, and his lips slightly swollen. Despite what felt like embarrassment in the bar, I realized it didn’t corrode the fact that I desperately wanted the man.

“Spencer.” I say, tugging on his shirt. “I need you.” I breathe out. 

"I need you too, baby." He responds, rubbing small circles into my waist.

"No, I need you. Please." I say, hoping he caught onto what I was asking for, without me explicitly saying so.

He knits his brows, understanding, and he let his hands linger on my waist. “Okay, baby.” He says, hesitantly. “Let’s get back home-” 

My desire, only heightened by the alcohol I’d consumed, caused me to shake my head. “No.” I interrupted. “Please, I need you now.” I say, using a voice that would go straight to his cock, full of broken desperation and need for him, just for him. 

It worked. He took one look at my blown out pupils and my parted lips and looked around. “I don’t wanna go back to the bar since the team could see us.” He groans. 

“Then here.” I say, frantically. 

“(Y/N).” He says, rubbing my shoulders. “I love sex just as much as you do but the front of a bar is not-” 

“Not here.” I say rolling my eyes. “The back. That one alleyway?” I say, praying to every God that my boyfriend would just say yes. And thankfully, he did. His face broke out in a smug expression, realizing we could actually have sex now, nearly dragging me as much as I’d allow him. I could feel the exhilaration and lust permeating from both of us, and as soon as we got to the alleyway, he got to work, kissing up columns up and down my neck. He didn’t even bother to check if someone was out there, turning his entire focus to me, to us, and how badly he wanted this. 

With every kiss and bite at my neck, my whimpers grew louder, and he cruelly put a mouth over my mouth, muffling my sounds. 

“Stay quiet.” He growled, and I looked at him, my eyes begging him to just fuck me already. 

“I think enough people know how much of a needy slut you are already, mm?" He says, beginning to undo my jeans and flipping me around, so his broad chest was up against my back.  "Or are you that much of a whore that you want the people at the bar to know too?”

He let the hand encompassing my mouth drop, and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Make one noise, and I stop.” I then realized that I could feel the head of his arousal rubbing against my folds, and my knees nearly went weak from the sensation. I hadn’t even realized we’d moved this fast, and suddenly, he entered me with a rough thrust, nearly pushing me into the wall. 

It took everything in me not to let out a yelp of surprise, and the bite I had on my tongue in this moment was sure to draw blood, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was every rough thrust that Spencer fucked into me, holding my hips with a bruising force, jutting into me like a man possessed. 

“You like that, mm?” Spencer whispered, leaning over to let his ears brush over the shell of my ear. “You like the idea of being caught? Of everyone knowing how fucking well I treat you?” 

I nod, wildly. “Yes.” I whisper. “Spencer, please-” 

But my words are cut off by another pass of his cock in me, leaving my jaw dropped but no sound coming out. 

“Come on, baby.” He grunts, cruelly. “Gave you one rule, didn’t I?” He says. He notices how weak my knees have gotten in the midst of our rendezvous, and he quickly grips onto my hair, pulling me up against him. “Can’t be a good girl for me?” He teases, a ruthless lilt in his tone. 

I whimper, nodding. “I can. I can” I mumble incoherently. I start to fuck back on him, matching the movement of his hips into mine, feeling myself rapidly approach my orgasm. “Please. I need- I need-” and without thinking of the consequences, I come, feeling the tension leave my body in pleasure inducing waves that cause my entire body to convulse. This only spurs him on to go faster, feeling the clench of my cunt around his cock. 

“Fuck- you feel so good. So fucking good around me.” He praises, and in an instant, his head is thrown back and I can feel him emptying himself inside me with a shudder, still gripping my hair with a desperate, primal need. He's panting, and breathless, and he pulls out as he finishes, tucking himself back into his pants quickly. He lovingly turned his attention to me, fixing me up as well. I whimpered softly as he took care of me, brushing my hair back and pressing small kisses to the back of my neck.

He turns me back to face him once he managed to get my underwear and jeans back up, and caressed my face, planting a tender kiss on my lips, then my forehead, and then bringing me close for a hug. I can feel the scent of sex, liquor and his cologne swarming my senses, and it only causes me to retreat into him deeper. I sense him breathing in my scent, and it makes me smile, knowing we both derived the comfort we needed from each other in that moment.

Finally, he mumbles against the top of my head. 

“Let’s get a cab and go home. Let me run you a bath. You’re so good to me.” He murmurs, still holding me in his arms like I was the last precious thing on Earth. 

I giggled against him, nodding. “Yeah. Yes, please.” I say, still a bit breathless, retreating from his embrace. “I’m surprised I managed to convince you to do that.” I remark, smirking a little, despite myself. “I can’t imagine how many germs are in an alleyway.” 

My boyfriend, of course, cringes. “Don’t remind me.” He says, squeezing my hand. beginning to lead me to the main road to find a cab. He then looks at me, a little smugly. “But I’d say it was worth it, right?” 

“Absolutely.” I respond, squeezing his hand back, a smile gracing my face. He smiles back, and I feel my heart jump.

I don't think I'll ever stop feeling like I’d won the lottery when it came to him. 

ahh! only got it out 1 day late. so that's good. hi! hope you enjoyed. nearly 4 people requested a part 2, so i hope you guys liked my take on the team "catching" them. any likes, reblogs, comments are so appreciated. thank you for reading. i am eternally grateful. ty!!! cannot say it enough

[sunderingstars]

So how do you think Zayne, Xavier and Rafayel would react when their s/o has a boy best friend, purely platonic but makes other people have second thoughts about their relationship.

Hehehe have a good day, write this if your okay with this 🪐

boy best friend (l&ds x reader) ♡

what the stars reveal: 1.2k, no gender signifiers used for reader, established relationship, ✨jealousy✨ but with a healthy dose of respect partner juice, surprisingly well-adjusted xav, half-headcanon half-prose, slight allusions to lore if you squint

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ hello !! thank you for giving me an excuse to write jealous rafayel >:3 the love & deepspace brainrot is so real for me right now, hope you enjoy !

— zayne is really good at hiding it, but his tiny mannerisms bleed through enough to make it clear he’s worried. it’s not that he has an issue with you having guy best friends, it’s just that everyone else seems to assume you two are together despite zayne standing right there. 

Zayne just stares. Blinks. Stares. Blinks again. You have to nudge him as a reminder that he is, in fact, in public, and that introductions are usually reciprocated by both parties. As soon as you make contact, it’s like a switch flips.

He breezes through his name, occupation, and a firm handshake (not too loose, not too tight), making it look so effortless that you almost forget he’d frozen like a statue as soon as he laid eyes on your best friend. Almost.

He does his best to hide it, but it’s clear something’s wrong. The slight clip to his voice, the furrow of his brow, the hesitance in his eyes when he looks at you — they may be imperceptible to the untrained eye, but all the telltale signs are there. It’s only a matter of time before you get an answer out of him.

“I’m an adult. I don’t worry about those kinds of things,” he says when you voice your suspicion a few days later.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s true,” he continues when you shoot him a disbelieving look, shuffling the papers on his desk in an attempt to seem nonchalant, “I have absolutely no problem with him.”

You don’t say anything else, simply fix him with a deeper look and cross your arms. He doesn’t crack. It takes a whole five minutes of him pretending to go back to work before he sighs and makes a show of signing something.

“I may,” he says, setting the pen down gently, “Be slightly… somewhat…”

“Jealous?” you finish.

“No,” he says. “Annoyed.” Then, quickly, “Not at you. Or him. Just everyone else.”

You don’t quite understand. “Everyone else…?”

Now it’s Zayne’s turn to fix you with a look. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

Notice what? you want to ask, but refrain since you don’t want Zayne thinking you’re more oblivious than you already are. You rack your brain for something, anything that you can remember from that day, until…

“Oh,” you say. You do remember getting quite a few stares even before you and your friend coincidentally ran into Zayne. At first, you thought it was because you were still in uniform, but you realize now that it may have been for a completely different reason.

Zayne doesn’t respond, just taps his fingers against the wood of his desk, a nervous tic.

“Those were people who got the wrong idea,” you continue. Then, when his mouth dips into a frown, you move to stand beside him. “I don’t mind hunting them down and telling them just how wrong they were.”

At this, his frown begins to lift. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I would, though.”

He looks at you clearly for the first time in a few days, a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you say. You maneuver yourself between him and the desk, falling into a half-straddle. “I’d go to their house, knock on the door, and tell them exactly how Dr. Zayne and I make out every Friday eveni—”

You feel his hand brush against your mouth, closing it.

“Alright, alright,” he interrupts with a small smile, “I get it. I’m secure enough in our relationship not to worry.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “Just don’t miss any checkups.”

“I’ll be right on time, as always,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And if anyone asks, i’ll tell them exactly who my boyfriend is.”

“Thank you.”

— xavier isn’t sure why you think he’d be annoyed, since your best friend seems nice enough. if anything, you’re the one that seems nervous, broaching the topic with him only to realize he hasn’t minded from the start.

Xavier looks a bit confused. His eyes shuffle between your face, his phone, and the twisting hands in your lap, a small, awkward smile beginning to spread on his face.

“Am I supposed to be… worried?” he asks.

“Are you?” you respond.

This prompts a light chuckle from your boyfriend. He shifts on the couch, turning until his arm rests on the back and his body is angled towards you. “Not really. What about you?”

You shrug. “Maybe a little.”

This seems to surprise Xavier, and you can’t blame him. You’re a bit surprised, too, given that most people’s roles would be flipped in this context.

Still, you can’t help it. Even though you’ve known your best friend for years — much longer than you’ve known Xavier — you don’t want your boyfriend to feel like he’s being overshadowed in his relationship with you. However, it currently seems like those worries are unfounded.

“Well, the way I see it…” Xavier leans in, brushing his lips against your temple, “… it’s wonderful you have so many people to share your life with.”

“You really think so?” you ask, just to make sure.

“Of course. Although…” He leans back, then, mid-afternoon light filtering through the window and washing his features soft gold. His eyes sharpen like sun rays piercing through a cloud. “… if he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

— rafayel is very loud and clear about his jealousy, and you can count on him to become clingy after you hang out with your best friend. ultimately, you know he doesn’t mind nearly as much as he says he does, so you’re happy to indulge his want for attention if it means you can comfort him when he’s insecure.

Rafayel, as he is wont to do, makes his feelings known immediately and with such startling clarity that at first you think he’s joking.

“You’re serious?” you finally ask, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards into a smile while his stay fixed, pouting.

“Of course I am,” he says. He glares at the empty air beside you head as if it wronged him in a past life. “I mean, it’s fine and all, I guess, but we haven’t seen each other in four days. You haven’t even taken me plushie hunting. And yet…”

“And yet…?”

He crosses his arms and mumbles. 

“Use your words, Raf.”

He sighs. “You were with him all day. People were staring.”

“And so you’re jealous,” you deadpan, “because my best friend helped me with a case.”

“Yes!” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I could’ve helped too! If you keep going around without me like that, you’ll… you’ll…” Something changes in his eyes, and he clicks his tongue, looking away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

You know your boyfriend well enough by this point to grasp what he’s hinting at. Putting your own frustration aside, you lean in, the soft fabric of Rafayel’s shirt brushing against your fingertips. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’m not going to forget you,” you say. Then, you find his arm, uncrossing it so you can take his pinky in yours. “Promise.”

Slowly, slightly, the tension in his shoulders begins to release. 

“Can we go plushie hunting?” he mumbles. Then, “Just the two of us?”

You smile. “Of course.”

🩵 bonus hc 🩵: i mentioned it in zayne’s part, but i like to think he drums his fingers against any available surface when he’s nervous or worried. between that, pushing up his glasses, and fiddling with his pen, you can read his mood based off of how much he messes with the objects in his vicinity.

(also also rafayel is so petty when he’s jealous, i know this one is basically canon but i just love it sm ♡)

© 2024, written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 19 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i appreciate you 🩵 and thank you, readers, or your patience.

[ read chapter 18 here ]

Chapter 19: Of Christmas & Chokers

Over the next few days, the comfortability between you and Chan deepens. Whether you’re in the room or out being tourists, you remain almost glued together—holding hands, sitting on his lap, hugging each other, kissing. Your conversations flow naturally and without tension. In an alternate universe, perhaps this would have been an ideal trip for a couple in love. As delusional as you may have become in believing this could be a new normal, you keep one foot grounded in reality. Well, maybe not the whole foot…but at least a pinky toe.

Your days are packed with several activities such as a nighttime ATV ride, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. You both have the time of your life letting loose. Speeding, swerving, screaming at the rush of it all. You’ve never seen Chan smile so much. He is different when he’s free of the responsibility of being Chapter President…he’s carefree. You tell yourself regardless of how this ends, you’ll be glad you at least got to see him like this.

You go to a local amusement park where Chan is determined to make you face your fear of rollercoasters. However, after the second ride leaves you nearly in tears, Chan puts that mission to rest.

You venture back out on the water on a jet ski. Chan lets you do most of the driving that day, but you soon realize it’s a set up. When you’re far out enough from the beach, his hands on your hips find their way between your legs. He kisses your neck and tells you to turn off the jet ski. He fucks you with his fingers until you come, whispering in your ear how hard his cock is and what he plans to do to you later.

One of the days while you and Chan are out, the hotel staff add holiday decorations around the room, including a small, 4ft tree in the corner near the balcony windows. It makes you squeal with glee upon seeing it. You assume it’s all the hotel’s doing. Lee Know wouldn’t have done something so nice. Would Chan? He doesn’t claim it, if he had put them up to it. It doesn’t matter, though, it makes you happy to see and feel more of the holiday spirit.

When Christmas Eve comes around, there’s a break in the itinerary since a lot of places are closed for the holiday. You wind up sleeping in quite late for your standards and when you finally open your eyes, Chan is wide awake in the bed next to you. He’s sitting up, back against the pillows, laptop in front of him and headphones covering his ears. He’s consumed by whatever he’s doing, but as soon as you turn to face him, his eyes shift from the screen to you.

“She has risen,” he jokes, moving one headphone away from his ear.

“I needed that,” you reply, stretching beneath the blankets. “How long have you been up?”

“A while,” he says with a shrug. “Just working on our chapter project.”

You smile inwardly. Typically, his response would have finished with ‘a while’, you would have had to dig and pry for any further information. He, for now at least, is freely providing you with further details.

“Chapter project?” you ask. You recall hearing him discuss it months ago, but never knew what it was.

“Just something we have to put together to memorialize the year,” he tells you. He turns the laptop so you can see the screen. You recognize the sight of a music program with tracks and layers but have no further understanding of it.

“Putting your minor to use?”

“Kind of. It doubles as my senior project for the minor, so that’s a plus.” He starts moving things around on the screen, opening a folder aptly titled ‘Chapter Project’. He clicks on a few files, opening them to show you as he speaks. “I want to incorporate songs I’ve worked on with different things from the other members—Hyunjin’s artwork for example.”

You know Chan is a good student. All of the members are, really, but you know some of them drag their feet and procrastinate until the last minute. You’ve caught Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin rushing to meet midnight deadlines more than once.

“Can I hear something?”

You sit up on the bed, back against the pillows like Chan. The blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts.

“Only if you put those things away,” he says, looking pointedly at your breasts, then up to your eyes, then back down again.

“What things?” you ask innocently, leaning back against the headboard and pushing your chest out even more.

Seizing the opportunity, Chan leans over and captures your nipple in his mouth. You let out a surprised scream as he bites down around it. You push him away, swatting his arm. You promptly pull the blanket up to cover them before holding out your hand for his headphones.

He hands them over with a smile, and you put them on. He shuffles a few things around on the screen before a video starts. You assume the graphics are of Felix’s design as it feels like something you’d see in a video game. A song accompanies the images and you’re surprised to hear Chan’s voice over a jovial sounding beat, followed by Seungmin, then Changbin. You didn’t know any of them could sing.

The video is only about a minute long but you feel dumbfounded when it’s over. You remove the headphones and pass them back to Chan.

“I like it,” you say with a smile. “It’s…surprisingly good.”

“You underestimating me?” he asks teasingly.   

“My mistake,” you say sarcastically, placing a hand over your heart. “Is that a cover?”

“No, it’s an original song,” he tells you, turning the laptop back so it’s facing him. “Just waiting on Felix to finish rendering the rest of the graphics, then that one will be done.”

“You’re doing more?”

“A few more. It’ll be a mini-album.”

“Do I get a copy?”

“Hmmm…maybe. If you ask nicely.”

“Oh, never mind then,” you say nonchalantly.

Chan turns to look at you, biting his tongue between his teeth to keep from smiling as he nods.

“I’ll remember that.”

You slide down against the pillows, then turn on your side so you’re still facing him.

“I had no idea you guys could sing,” you tell him.

“Participating in choir was mandatory at our boarding school,” he shrugs. “We can hold a note.”

Chan is full of so many surprises. Most of them pleasant, these days. You want to uncover all there is to know about him, but you know you’ll never be given the time.

You cuddle up to him as he puts his headphones back on. You just lay there and watch him work, expertly navigating around the screen as he continues composing the song. You want to ask why he’s not majoring in music. You already know the answer to that, though. The choices for his future aren’t exactly his to make. His parents decided he would major in business, and sadly that’s all there is to it.

Your heart aches for him—you can see the work he put in to make something creative, the passion he has for it. And he can’t even pursue it.

It’s now 11:00pm and you and Chan have just returned to the hotel room. After dinner you both wanted to get out of the room for a bit and ended up at one of the only places open—the Magic City casino. The hours spent there are a bit of a blur. It was news to you that anyone playing at the tables or slot machines could get free drinks, so you both decided to indulge. Being so far from the hotel, though, Chan didn’t let either of you get too drunk.

As soon as you’re back to the room, Chan excuses himself to make a phone call and disappears out onto the balcony. You change into your pajamas—a pair of thin, loose fitting shorts and matching top—and return to the living room. You turn on the TV, stopping on the first channel you see playing a Christmas themed movie to entertain you while you wait for him to return. From all the food and drinks, you start to doze off until the sound of the heavy balcony door opening stirs you.

“Everything okay?” you ask when he comes back in.

“Mm,” is his reply, with a small nod of his head. “It’s Christmas day back home. I’m gonna get changed.”

You can only nod as well. His tone sounds a bit sad so you’re not sure what to say. Maybe he’s missing spending the holiday with his little brother and sister. And that makes you sad. It’s your fault he’s not with them.

Chan comes back into the living room clad in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He sits down next to you and throws his arm around the back of the couch behind you.

All of your life you had never considered yourself to have a one-track mind but now? With Chan? Seeing him in those grey sweatpants puts one thing at the forefront of your mind, drowsiness and sadness pushed aside. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself.

“Should I open the bottle of wine the hotel left?” you suggest.

“Sure,” is his simple reply.

You stand and retrieve the bottle from the kitchen, along with two wine glasses. You pop the cork and fill both glasses before returning to Chan, handing him one.

“You sure everything’s alright? You seem a bit down…”

You don’t want the tension in the air to linger through the night and this trip has built your courage to address him this way.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells you with a soft smile. He clinks his glass against yours before downing his in one go. “You trying to stay up ‘til midnight for your present?”

You take a sip from your wine glass; happy he’s taking the initiative to change the subject to something lighter.

“I don’t see any presents under that tree,” you say, looking in the corner where the small tree is lit up.

“I haven’t put them there yet.”

“Them?”

As in multiple.

He nods.

“Oh no,” you say, a look of panic taking over your features.

You weren’t sure the two of you would even be exchanging gifts. Not only that, but you don’t feel like you truly know enough about him to get a well thought out present. And you love giving gifts. Hyunjin has a never-ending need for art supplies, so you immediately knew what to get him. You were completely puzzled when it came to Chan.

It was only after the staff added the tree that you thought it’d be nice for him to wake up with something under the tree. Being on vacation, though, you were in a bit of a predicament. All you really had convenient access to was the gift shop.

He must sense your apprehension.

“It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything,” he tries to appease you.

When the panicked look on your face turns into a frown, he takes the wine glass from your hand and places it next to his on the side table. He then pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him and cups your face with both hands, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“It’s fine,” he says in a sharper tone that makes you nod in acceptance.

“I would have never imagined I’d be spending Christmas Eve with you, let alone exchanging gifts,” you tell him, leaning your forehead against his. “From English classmates to this? Never in my wildest dreams.”

“That wasn’t our first class together,” he says matter-of-factly. He leans back against the couch and takes both of your hands in his, lacing his fingers through.

You furrow your brow at his statement. You wrack your brain for any other class you may have had with him but can’t come up with any.

“What? When?”

“Freshman year…Anthropology 101. In the lecture hall.”

You think back to freshman year and the classes you took. You did, in fact, take an Anthropology course. In a large lecture hall with something close to 100 other students, including your ex.

“I always sat in the back—you were always somewhere up front. Being a nerd, I guess,” he teases. You try to pull your intertwined hands from his to hit him, but he holds onto them tighter, bringing them to his chest. “You look cute when you’re focused, you know that?”

Your brain feels like mush. None of this is ringing a bell.

“Do you remember the presentation you did for extra credit? A family heirloom?”

Now that, you do remember.

“You were so nervous, but I swear it made you look even cuter. The way you talked about the heirloom…” he continues. “…your grandmother’s bracelet, I think it was…”

“Yes,” you say softly.

The bracelet your grandmother gave your mother, who then passed it on to you, and one day you’ll give it to your own child. It feels odd to hear Chan speak about it. Something so deeply personal to you. Granted, you did tell an entire class of strangers about it. But the fact that he remembers it, remembers you?

The fact that he’s known of you this long? Why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

“Why don’t I remember you being in that class?” you ask, struggling to process this new shared history and the words he’s just spilled about you simultaneously.

“It was freshman year…plenty of stuff going on and…your ex,” he shrugs.

He hits the nail on the head with that comment. That class is where you met him.

“You know, the first few weeks of the SKZ house before we bring anyone in?” Chan asks rhetorically, “I thought maybe I’d work up the nerve to talk to you while I could…but then he was there. Always sitting next to you. Even with the class we had this semester. I thought again, maybe it was a sign, you know? But he was waiting for you outside the door after the first class ended.”

You feel a pang of sadness, hearing that. Maybe in a different timeline if he had come talk to you, things would be different. You imagine getting to know a bright-eyed freshman Chan, eager and optimistic to take on the world. Maybe he would have opted out of having an assignee if it were possible, maybe he really could have been yours.

“I remember one of the last lectures you came in with your eyes all puffy,” he continues, disrupting that dangerous train of thought, “like you’d been crying. You didn’t sit anywhere near him that day. I always wondered what happened.”

You open your mouth to speak but close it immediately. What can you say to that? To any of this? Had he really paid such close attention to you? All this time?

“He used to treat you like shit, you know.”

At that remark, you set your lips in a firm line. You untangle your hands from his and cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s true, but hearing Chan say it hits too close to home.

“And you treated me any better?”

Chan takes in your closed off body language and a silence falls over you. Neither of you want this bubble you’re in to burst yet. Perhaps he’s regretting saying any of this at all.

“The day you showed up at our house…” he speaks up again after a while, “I felt sick to my stomach, y/n. Like the universe was playing some sick fucking joke on me.”

He places his hands on your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them.

“When it came time to choose assignees, I couldn’t let you end up with anyone else. I’ve never pulled rank like that before as the chapter president, but with you I had to…and I knew Hyunjin would be good for you, too.”

You shake your head in disbelief.

The day in the hot tub creeps back into your mind. When you told Chan that your time with Hyunjin had been great and he replied with ‘I know. I’m glad’. You didn’t fully understand it then. Now, it’s as if Chan knew the emotional rollercoaster he was going to send you on and wanted to make sure you had a harness. Hyunjin.

You let out a low breath and place your hands on top of your head, locking your fingers together. This is a lot to take in.

“So, your plan was to selfishly claim me and treat me like shit?” You ask after a moment.

“I wouldn’t call it a plan,” he says in a sad tone. “I knew that I was attracted to you and after our first few nights together I had to do something to keep boundaries in place.”

The conversation you shared on the beach clarified his drive for the spankings and edging. You understand his reasonings. You know that his sexual desires and fantasies with you are kept separate from his emotional connection to you. However, it’s confusing and frustrating to know he clearly felt something for you prior to you joining the SKZ House and still kept that brick wall firmly in place between you.  

“So, you wanted to fuck me and still treat me like shit then?” You can’t help the bitter edge to your tone.

“I didn’t wanna get to close—clearly I’ve failed,” he admits. “It’s just always been in the back of my mind how long I’ve wanted you and now that I get to have you, there’s an expiration date.”

“What happens when we get back? You start treating me like that again?”

He averts his gaze from you.

“I don’t know how to—” he stops abruptly and shakes his head.

“Chan,” you say softly, reaching out to turn his head back to face you. “Please.”

“I don’t know how to be with you and be genuinely happy in this fucked up situation, y/n. I’m not gonna want it to end…but it has to.”

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest. As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right. You don’t like the thought of having to leave either of them. With Hyunjin, though, you know he will move on with ease which makes losing him slightly easier. Chan, on the other hand, after all the ground you’ve broken, the progress you’ve made…having to throw it all away will be hard. On both of you, you’re coming to realize.

But how else could you have gotten to know him? If you hadn’t shown up at the SKZ house, Chan would have once again had another assignee and not been able to interact with you anyways. Perhaps you both should at least be thankful for the time you’ve been given and enjoy it while you can.

“You can’t go back to being an asshole, Chan,” you tell him softly.

“I know.”

He grabs onto your hips and pulls you closer to him until you’re forced to lay against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You stay like that for a while, the movie playing in the background but neither of you watching it. You want to remember this moment, how it feels to physically and mentally be this close to him.

An alarm suddenly goes off on his phone and Chan quickly silences it. He cups one hand around the back of your neck to guide your head up. His brown eyes bore into yours, still lingering in this shared moment. You hold his face in your hands, staring right back, not backing down. It’s not an intense stare…more like one of silent pleading and unspoken questions. You bring your face to his and place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Wait here,” he says, kissing you once more before sliding you off his lap.

He disappears into the bedroom and when he comes back, heads straight for the Christmas tree. He places two wrapped boxes under it and you mentally kick yourself again. You hadn’t even wrapped his. Even so, you can’t hide the smile that takes over your face at the sight and the thought he must have put into this.

“Should I get yours?”

“So you did get me something?” he asks with a smirk.

“I did…but seeing that,” you say, pointing to the neatly wrapped presents under the tree, “I don’t even want to give it to you anymore.”

“It’s fine,” he says again. “I’ll wait until tomorrow. Come pick one.”

You stand from the couch and walk over to him and the tree. Both boxes are square in shape, one larger than the other. You deliberate for a moment before reaching for the larger one. You sit on the floor and pull it towards you, surprised by its weight. You look up at Chan and when he doesn’t move to join you, you pull on his hand until he sits.

“Did you wrap this yourself?”

“I asked the housekeeper to help me out with it,” he tells you.

“Resourceful.”

He taps his temple with his pointer finger.

You start ripping away the wrapping paper to reveal a white box beneath. You can’t hold back your smile as you pull the top part of the box off. You set it aside and pull out the tissue paper. When your eyes land on what’s inside, your mouth drops.

A folded, white lab coat with your last name embroidered across the breast area sits on top. You reach out and run a finger across the stitching. It feels surreal to see.

“I figured you’d need it when you go off to vet school.”

You look up at him, still smiling. You will definitely need it. Along with several other items you were already wondering how you would afford, without having to ask your parents for even more money. That’s part of the reason you ultimately decided to join the SKZ house and save the money they were sending you. At least the majority of it would go towards the next steps in your education.

“Thank you, Chan.”

It’s a thoughtful gift. And you feel the guilt of your shitty gift building.

“There’s more…” he nods towards the box.

And the guilt continues.

You lift the lab coat out of the box and gently set it outside the box. The next item is a set of black scrubs, your name embroidered on the shirt as well. You left them out of the box and sit them on top of the lab coat. When your eyes land on the item at the bottom of the box, your jaw drops again.

You reach inside the box and retrieve the stethoscope. This was one of the pricier items you hadn’t been looking forward to purchasing. You bring it closer to inspect, smiling widely. You immediately recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. It, too, is engraved with your name around it.

You feel your eyes begin to prickle and you blink furiously, not wanting to cry, but you can’t help it. It’s a thoughtful gift. One that you’ll get to take with you when the year is over. A reminder of Chan you get to keep with you forever.

You slowly raise your eyes to look at him, shaking your head softly.

“You don’t like it?” he asks, “Is it not the right kind? I wasn’t really sure…”

“It is—it is,” you say, your voice cracking. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and clear your throat. “It’s perfect. It’s all perfect, Chan. Thank you.”

“Wanna test it out?”

Your smile returns at that and you nod, placing the ear tubes in your ears and sliding closer to him. He pulls you onto his lap once again, putting your legs on either side of him, your butt resting on his folded legs.

You grab the bell end of the stethoscope with one hand and pull at the hem of his t-shirt with the other, lifting it up. You then place the diaphragm end to his chest and he instantly moves back, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s cold doc,” he says, voice muffled and rumbling through the ear piece.

“Sorry, I’m a rookie,” you reply sheepishly.

You bring the diaphragm end to your mouth and breathe on it to warm it up before placing it back over his heart. The digital reader immediately lights up, reading his heart rate. But you’re not focused on it. You’re looking directly into his eyes, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Sounding healthy?” he asks.

You nod.

“Well, we should make sure the reading is accurate, too.”

He cups the back of your neck and pulls your face closer, bringing your lips to his. With his other hand, he holds your wrist and the stethoscope in place. You can hear his heartbeat quicken as you kiss. You grind your hips against his, causing the steady thumping in your ear to beat faster. You want to get lost in the sound of his body’s reaction to you.

He uses his hand on your back to assist your grinding, making sure you can also feel his body’s reaction to you.  

Not wanting to jeopardize the safety of your present, you break the kiss and pull the ear tubes out. His hand drops from your wrist allowing you to turn and set the stethoscope neatly on top of the pile of the other presents behind you.

Before you can even turn back around, Chan is changing your position. He holds onto your back tightly as he lowers you down to the floor.

“I won’t write a negative review just yet—but you’ve got some learning to do, doc.”

You like to hear him call you that.

“I’m a fast learner,” you reply.

“Oh, I know,” he says with a wink.

He remains sitting in front of you, his legs still crossed, while you’re lying down. Your legs are draped over his thighs, feet on the ground on either side of him. He pushes your shirt up to expose your stomach and lightly runs his fingers in a zig-zag pattern all the way down until his hand is between your legs. The thin, pajama shorts you’re wearing are a loose fit and don’t do much to keep him out. Not that you’d want that.

He easily moves the fabric aside and his eyes snap to yours when he realizes you aren’t wearing any underwear.

“I only packed so many for the trip,” you laugh and shrug. “I can’t keep messing them up with you.”

He smirks and nods his agreement.

He slides his fingers up and down your slit, teasing your pussy until his fingers become saturated with your slick. He slowly inserts his ring and middle finger inside of you as he places his other palm on your lower stomach. You rock your hips against him in response. He curls his fingers, pressing against your inner walls each time he withdraws his hand, all the while applying steady pressure with his palm.

You can really feel his fingers rubbing against you, and you know he can too. His eyes are on his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, then move up to your writhing body, then your face. A soft smile plays out on his lips as he watches your reaction. He adds his thumb on your clit into the mix and you let out a moan.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes.

You bite your lip between your teeth, arching your back. You’re too caught up in the sensations to formulate a response.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” he asks, slowing them down. “Or on my cock?”

You moan again.

“Both.”

“Greedy,” he says with a soft chuckle, still moving his fingers in and out at an achingly slow pace.

“Mmmm, yes. For you.”

Any part of him you can have.

He moves his fingers quicker, thumb still circling your clit. You sit up a little, placing your hands behind you to hold you up as you move your hips against his fingers.

He arches an eyebrow at this, a devilish smirk on his lips. He withdraws his fingers, and you protest with a whine and pout. He brings his fingers, coated in your slick, to your face and spreads it around your pouted lips. He watches closely as you lick your lips, then brings his hand to his mouth, sucking off the rest for himself.

The sight of him enjoying your taste always sends you off the rails. You grab a handful of his shirt and pull him to you until his lips are on yours. He seems a little startled, but he allows it. You kiss him, taste him, taste you.

Before you can have too much, he breaks the kiss but keeps his face against yours.

“I want you to open your other present now,” he says, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“Not in the morning?” you ask, catching your breath.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I wanna see it on you now.”

He stretches to the side to retrieve the present and you wrap your arms around his waist to keep from falling back. He grabs it and returns to his upright position before handing it to you.

You take the present and rip the wrapping paper, much less delicately than you did the first. What could this be? He wants to see it on you? You’re excited to find out. You toss all bits of the paper behind you without a care until just the box is left. You lift the lid from the box and inside is what appears to be…a collar?

You look up to Chan with an arched brow and he just smiles widely, baring all his pearly white teeth. The part of the collar that rests on the back of the neck is black, with a belt buckle-like fastener. On the front is a thick, silver linked chain (much like the one he wears on his wrist) with a silver heart hanging from it. The heart itself has several tiny jewels spread evenly around it. The way they glitter in the light, you hope its cubic zirconia…but knowing how deep Chan’s pockets go, they might just be diamonds. You bring the heart closer for inspection and see the words 'Good Girl' engraved on it.

You’re not sure what to make of it. Both the cost, the phrase and the gift itself. He wants you to wear this? Like a dog?

He takes it out of the box and drapes it around your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can fasten it in the back. You look up at him as he hooks a finger through the heart and tugs on it. Pulling, pulling, restricting until it’s taught against your throat.

Oh. Oh.  

“This okay?” he asks.

You appreciate that he’s asking. You’re convinced you’d let him walk you through the street with it, so long as he asks first.

You close the distance between you, placing your lips on his to convey your consent. He tugs a little tighter on the collar as you kiss before releasing it fully.

In the next moment, your hands are on his shoulders, pushing on them until his back is now against the floor. He doesn’t resist at all.

You reposition yourself comfortably on top of him. You put your hands on his biceps, squeezing them tightly before sliding up his arms to his hands. You move them up above his head then lace your fingers between his, holding them in place as you kiss him. You grind your hips into his and he lets out a moan. You feel his hardening cock pressed between your legs. You grind against it more, sliding your clit along his length. Your kisses become quicker, sloppier, as you keep grinding on him.

He tries to move his hands, but you squeeze them tighter. He lets out a grunt and uses more force to break free—reminding you that he was allowing you to keep them there. He sits up and wraps one arm around you, pulling you close as he starts to stand up. You wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He walks you both back over to the couch.

He unhooks your legs and lowers you so you’re standing in front of him. He leans down and claims your lips again, but you want him undressed. You reach for the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up. You break the kiss to get it completely off his head and before he can kiss you again, you push him onto the couch.

You lift your shirt above your head and as you’re reaching back to unhook your bra, you give a pointed look to his sweatpants. He lifts his hips from the couch and pushes them down.

“Does it look good?” you ask, running your fingers along the collar as you kneel in front of him.

He licks his lips in anticipation, “Better than I imagined.”

You reach for his hand and bring it to the collar. He tugs on the heart again, tightening it around your neck. He wraps his other hand around the base of his cock and pulls you towards it. You drop your jaw and take him in your mouth.

He sucks in a breath, watching you lower your mouth on him. He releases the collar and leans back into the couch. You replace your hand with his at the base, stroking his dick as you bob your head up and down.

You alternate between stroking, sucking, taking it out and smacking it against your lips. He moans and groans, body jerking in response to your actions. You love seeing him like this.

You take him out of you mouth fully and continue stroking him, moving your mouth instead to take each of his balls in your mouth, in turn. You glance up to his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lets out a deep breath.

“So,” you say, returning your attention to his cock, licking slowly around the tip. “You wanna come in my mouth or in my pussy?”

He looks down at you, only able to smile and shake his head at your use of his same words against him. He leans forward and grabs the heart of the collar once more, using it to pull you to him.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he asks, kissing along your lips.

You giggle and nod playfully in response.

He leans back, pulling on the collar to bring you with him until you’re forced to stand again. His other hand slips between your legs and he rubs your pussy with his fingers.

“I wanna fill you up here.”

You moan against his lips, and he releases the collar. He lightly pushes against your chest, so you stand fully then motions to your shorts. You turn around, bend over and pull them down. You move to straighten yourself, but he lurches forward to stop you.

He puts a hand on your back to keep you bent over. In the next instant you feel his other hand collide with your ass and you let out a surprised yelp. He rubs the wounded area on the right and brings his mouth to the left cheek, placing a wet kiss to it. You feel his teeth dig into your skin, causing you to gasp. He smacks the right cheek again.

He shifts his mouth to the surely reddening cheek, placing another wet kiss there. It soothes the stinging a bit. He slaps the left check, his palm gripping your ass when it lands. He then immediately slides his fingers between your legs, slipping along your wet slit until they find your opening. He pushes his fingers inside, you don’t even know how many, but it makes you feel full.

“Mmmm,” you moan, pushing back against him.

“You’re dripping for me,” he says, lacing kisses along each cheek.

“Always,” you reply. And it’s the truth.

He takes his fingers out of you and places both hands on your waist, guiding you down to him. He positions himself at your opening and you roll your head back as he slowly lowers you on his cock. You remain still when he’s fully inserted, just basking in the feel of him inside you.

You make small movements with your hips first, moving forwards and backwards.

“Fuck,” he exhales, gripping your hips tighter.

You like the way he sounds when you’re pleasing him.

You plant your feet firmly on the ground, your hands on his knees. You start to move up and down, bouncing on him and drawing more delicious groans from him.

He uses his hands on your waist to lift you higher and bring you down even harder. You cup your breasts, pinching your nipples to add to the pleasure you’re feeling. You don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of his cock filling you up. Though, you won’t exactly have the opportunity to find out.

You try to push the thought aside, but you can feel it distracting you.

Chan notices as your rhythm becomes out of sync with his. He pulls you all the way down against him, then slides his hand up your stomach, between your breasts, all the way to your neck. He covers the collar with his hand and pulls you back against his chest. You keep circling your hips on him, not wanting to lose the momentum.

“You okay?” he asks softly in your ear.

“Yeah,” you reply, but it’s a lie. “I want to see you.”

He repositions both of you so you’re lying fully on the couch and he’s on top of you. He guides one of your knees up and hooks your leg over his shoulder as he enters you again.

“Like this?”

You offer a silent nod, sliding your hands up his bare, chiseled chest, locking your fingers together behind his neck.

He starts moving again and you feel him sliding in and out, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from his face. His eyes are locked on you too. This feels heavy, but neither of you comment on it. He turns his head to the side to place a kiss to the leg that’s slung over his shoulder, eyes never leaving yours.

Your hands leave his neck to roam through his hair, over his face, touching every part of him you can to commit to memory. You shift your mental focus to the way he feels, beneath your fingertips, his cock inside of you.

You want the Chan you’ve had for the past week for the rest of the time you have him. Open. Earnest. You try to convey this with your eyes as he continues thrusting in and out. He grabs your breast, squeezing it tightly and you part your lips and arch your back in response.

You don’t know if you’ll survive if he goes back to treating you like you don’t matter. You can’t let him do that to you. Can you?

“I know, I know,” he says in response to your unspoken qualms. He kisses your leg once more before releasing it to lay his body flat against yours. He wraps his arms around your head in a hug of sorts, as he continues his deep and steady strokes.

Chan isn’t fucking you tonight. He’s making love to you.

You slide one hand down to where the two of you are joined, finding your clit. He lifts slightly, allowing you more room to rub circles around it.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he commands.

You whimper at his words. Baby.

You rub your clit faster as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, still driving into you as deep as he can. He angles himself so that with each thrust his dick digs against your walls. It’s enough to drive you crazy. You’re whining, moaning, panting.

“Come for me,” he says again. “Come for me baby girl.”

Your hand on his chest goes for his throat. You squeeze your fingers around it and see his eyes darken, but he doesn’t stop you. He moves his hips faster, harder.

“Chan,” you pant, “please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

He keeps the same pace, same angle, same motions until you’re arching your back and squeezing his neck, digging your nails into his delicate skin as you come around his cock. He grits his teeth, grunting and pounding into you furiously as he comes right after.

His movements slow as he finishes. You release his neck and wrap your arms around it instead. He lowers himself on top of you, all but smothering you with his weight but you don’t care. This is a happy way to die, if it comes to that.

You kiss along his collar bone as you both catch your breath. His cock keeps twitching inside of you and you clench the walls of your pussy around him each time it does. His body jerks each time you do it.

“Stop, stop,” he pleads, chuckling softly.

You chuckle in response.

That was different. In ways you hadn’t imagined possible with Chan. The two of you stay on the couch, wrapped up in each other for a while longer.  

The following morning, you’re both woken up by a knock at the door. Chan, just as confused as you, climbs out of bed to answer it. You hear him talking to someone and he returns a few moments later.

“Another Minho surprise,” he tells you. “A couples massage.”

“That actually sounds amazing,” you murmur, pushing off the blankets.

You both go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. You put your hair up in a messy bun then go to the living room while Chan lets in the masseuses. There’s one male and one female. After setting up their massage tables in the open space between the couch and the TV, they leave for the hallway allowing you both some privacy to remove your clothing.

Chan watches you undress with a sly smile on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You stick your tongue out at him and throw your pajama shirt at his face, but he dodges it and catches it in his hand. He folds it neatly and sets it on the couch before removing his own shirt.

When you’re both settled on the tables, they re-enter.

“You’re with me, sir,” you hear Chan say and lift your head.

He’s motioning for the male masseuse to come to him.

“I need firmer hands,” he adds.

But you know that’s not it. No other man outside of the SKZ House is allowed to touch you in the way the masseuse will need to. You know it’s because of that. But it still makes you feel warm inside to think Chan personally doesn’t want anyone else touching you.

After the massage, you and Chan shower together then order a late brunch. He opens his present that you are now extremely embarrassed to give him. When he pulls out the pair of neon blue swim trunks with “Miami Vice” written on it, you hide your face, and he immediately laughs.

“These are loud,” he says. “I’ll wear them to the beach tomorrow.”

Next, he pulls out a refrigerator magnet with “Miami” written across it with palm trees surrounding it.

“To be fair,” you say, wanting to explain, “I had no clue what to get you. You’re not exactly an open book.”

“That is fair,” he agrees. He looks at you with a soft smile, as if he wishes things had been different. He kisses your forehead. “Thank you anyways.”

You spend your final two days mostly relaxing and staying close to the hotel. You spend time at the beach again, Chan in his neon blue swim trunks and looking fucking delectable in them.

Getting on the plane to go home, you’re hit with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Chan’s behavior hasn’t changed yet, and you’re praying that it doesn’t. That even though you both know how this has to end; he can find it within himself to not push you out again. You lean on him and hold his hand for most of the flight back.

Changbin picks you up from the airport and Chan rides up front while you sit in the back. He asks how the trip was and you both reply that it was good. He then addresses Chan in Korean and you’re left clueless in the back seat. But whatever is said, you can feel the weight of it from Chan’s reaction. He leans back in his seat, slouches, and runs his hand through his hair.

You try not to think much of it, but it must be important. They don’t typically speak Korean in front of any of the assignees unless it’s about something that, to be frank, is none of their business.

The car ride is over far too soon, and they still haven’t filled you in on what’s happening.

Once in the driveway, you notice a black car parked in front of the house with a Rolls Royce emblem on the front. You immediately furrow your brow, curiosity and anxiety spiking through the roof at this point.

Changbin exits the car first. You remain planted in the backseat, waiting for Chan to say or explain anything.

He lets out a low breath and leans back against the headrest, eyes closed.

“My dad’s here,” he announces.

Your eyes open wide, and even more confusion sets in. Is it an unexpected visit? Is he not happy to see his father?

“You don’t want him to be?” you ask slowly, carefully.

“Well, it’s never exactly a cause for celebration when any of our parents show up,” he says dryly. “Just…stay out of his way.”

Chan opens his door and you follow in suit.

Changbin has pulled the luggage from the trunk, he’s holding the handle to yours and Chan grabs his own. You move to walk past them both, but Chan grabs your arm to stop you.

You turn to face him, trying to read his expression but a mask is in place.

“Chan,” you say, placing a hand to his chest.

A glint, a flicker of something crosses over his eyes and you see your Chan for a split second.

He kisses your forehead.

“After us. And then straight upstairs, okay?” he says softly.

You nod your head and wait for them to walk to the door first.

As soon as you enter the house, you can feel the commanding presence of his father. Your eyes are drawn straight to him on the living room couch, looking all business in a tailored black suit, black hair slicked back.

“Appa.” Chan says.

“Hello,” you say politely with a small bow at the waist.

You know he told you to go straight upstairs, but it would feel rude to pass by without speaking to him.

His father spares half a glance at you before staring daggers at his son.

Changbin heads for the stairs with your suitcase and you follow him. You look back at Chan and offer as encouraging a smile as you can muster. Chan doesn’t turn to look at you. He walks towards his father like a man heading to the gallows and the sight of him like that punctures your already fragile heart.

[ read chapter 20 here ]

a/n: oof. thoughts? feelings? a lot to unpack here. thank you all again for your patience! and sorry the tags still aren't working :(

[mydearesthrry]

right back home to you - h.s.

a/n: had a hard time deciding if i wanted to put this out since im not too happy with the outcome but i wanted to feed u guys. in the future ill probably go back in and edit it but for now i hope you all enjoy this little angsty girl xx im also working on part 2 of love in secret !!!!!!!!!! she should be out fairly soon <3

wc: 4.8k

warnings: none, angst, fluff, flight anxiety

“Hello? ‘M home,” Harry shouted into the cold house. Not that he would even notice, but the air was dull and the atmosphere was still, hues in the normally vibrant house now gray and lifeless. “Baby?” 

“Oh, hi Harry,” A dulcet smile was on her face as she walked around the corner with sweatpants and a baggy hoodie on, a baseball cap on top of her head. She had her dirty and beat up air forces on her feet that Harry loved to make fun of, small dollops of paint on the soles of the shoe. She also had a pair of sunnies that lay stagnant on the dark blue visor, a tell tale sign for Harry that she was going out. ���I didn’t hear you come home.” 

Harry hummed, holding his arms out for her to walk into. She did, but only embraced him with half of her body, one arm curling around his waist loosely while the other stayed swaying by her side. In both of their opinions, it was way too short to even be considered a hug, not even close to being an embrace, but Y/N did it purposely. Harry frowned, feeling a twinge of hurt at her unusual lack of affection. “Um… Are y- are y’going out?” 

She laughed falsely, shaking her head and turning her body to face the large windows in their apartment. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” 

Harry was still confused. “What d’you mean?” 

It’s now or never, Y/N thought, and mustered her bravest smile as she pivot turned to face him again. “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m going up to New York to stay with Eliza. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I’ll be sure to let you know in advance, is that okay?” 

A few beats pass, Harry staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck? No, no, s’not okay! Why- why are y’leaving? Y’didn’t even tell me? When were you planning on telling me y’were leaving?” 

“I’ve been planning on leaving for a long time, Harry. I was actually meant to leave before you even got home, really, but you’re early.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple and knowing the fight that was about to ensue. 

“Why are y’leaving?” Harry’s voice started to grow in volume, becoming harder and harsher as he tightened his hands into balled fists, trying to channel his feelings in another way rather than yelling at his girlfriend. 

“I’m leaving because I can’t do this anymore, Harry. I cant keep arguing with you every day, it’s just not fair to me. And it’s not fair to you either, really, so I’m just… taking the stress off of the both of us and making the bold decision to leave.” She explains, moving to grab her suitcases from the hallway and roll them into the living room. 

“That’s wha’ this is about? The fight we had last night?” He asks, eyes widening and mouth drying at the sight of her multiple suitcases. 

“Um— not entirely, I guess. I’ve meant to go up to visit Eliza, if you remember, we were going to but you had um— a party, that you needed to attend. So I just decided to book a flight last night after you went to sleep.” She's as quiet as a mouse, her words not staggering but it was physically obvious that she was nervous. 

“So what now? Is that it? You’re just… throwing away four years of my- of our fucking life?” Harry spat. She’d started to shrink into herself quite a bit, sweaty palms running over the now warm black handle of her small suitcase. 

“I’m not throwing away anything, Harry. We had a fight, you and I both said some nasty things, and I’m just going up to my sister's house for a little bit to clear my head. Like I said, I was meaning to go up anyway. This isn’t really about you, Harry, as much as you think it might be. I’ve been miserable here all alone and all I want is to be with someone who I know can provide me with love and attention right now, which is what I need. You need it too.” She tried to hold her ground but the tremble in her soft voice made her feel weak. 

She and Harry had gotten into a multitude of arguments within the past weeks that he had been off tour. It started from little things, like a sock being thrown over the laundry basket and not inside of it, or one of them leaving their dirty tea mugs on the counter when the sink was right there! But as small and insignificant as these things were, they also grew into arguments about bigger issues. One of the more nasty arguments had pushed her to pack her bags and book a plane ride up to her sister’s house in New York. 

The argument on the table this time around was that whenever Harry was home after an elongated amount of time on the road, he would treat Y/N as if she was his friend and not girlfriend of three years. She’d had a problem with this seeing as all she ever wanted him to do was love her and take care of her, and for some reason she couldn’t help but feel he found that hard. 

“Bullshit. I know y’leaving ‘cause your feelings got hurt or whatever, but you know y’don’t have to leave, pup. We can resolve this, don’t we always?” He grumbles, taking a few small steps forward to meet her where she stood by the door. 

“It’s entirely different this time, Harry.” She sighed, bending down to sit on the floor since she knew they’d probably be there for a while. 

“How?! How could this be any fuckin’ different? We’re jus’ arguin’ are we not?” Harry runs a stressed hand through his hair, trying to channel his energy away from his voice. Though he tried to refrain from allowing his anger to seep its way into his voice, his girlfriend could still pick up on the edge that lined his vocal chords. 

“No, baby. We aren’t just arguing. This is me trying to tell you how I feel, and you keep pushing it aside. So this isn’t just us arguing anymore, I guess I’m surrendering. I’m tired of doing this with you whenever you’re home, Harry. I’m alone every day, 24/7, and then you come home and it’s like nothing has changed. Which I love, I love how we can just bounce back, but sometimes I need more love or attention when you come back, and I just…” She starts to gnaw on her lips, trying to word her next thought carefully. “I’m tired of being treated like your friend rather than your girlfriend.” 

“What?” 

“Mhm. Besides me being alone all the time, whenever I do have you— or people around, you only ever want to keep me at arms length. The whole world knows we’re together, Harry. You’ve posted on my birthday and it’s no secret to anyone anymore. I… I just can’t understand why you do that, really. It makes me feel like I’m just your friend and not your lover.” She pauses, inhaling a sharp breath of air and willing her tears away. 

“What do you— what do you even mean? I’m always with you whenever I’m home, I bring y’everywhere w’me?” His anger just kept growing and growing, but this time he noticed that the weight of guilt that was sitting on his heart had gotten heavier with every breath he took, the weight of the pull almost being able to bring him to his knees.

She lets out a wet laugh, shaking her head before dropping it in defeat. “Harry… I hate to bring it up but— you’ve been home for what, three weeks now? We haven’t had sex, we barely have cuddled, you don’t put your arm around me in public or kiss my cheek. I— I feel like I’m losing you. It’s so hard to love you when you won’t let me. I’ve tried to be understanding and just trying to accept the fact that you’re readjusting to our normal life but… I miss you. The only time we talk for longer than a few minutes is when we fight, and that’s not okay. You know how much you mean to me, but I just can’t keep trying to love someone you aren’t anymore. It’s just too destructive to me and I just can’t. I’m sorry, Harry. I hope you can understand, and I’ll be back whenever we’re ready.” 

Harry’s now shaking with sobs. Uncontrollable, messy, heartbreaking sobs. Her words were finally making sense to him. All of the arguments had finally made sense. She was arguing with him just so he would talk to her. He thought he could die with the amount of guilt squeezing his heart right now. 

“I love you, isn’t that enough?” He whispered. 

“I don’t think it is anymore, Harry.” Lifting herself up to her feet, she rolls her suitcase to stand behind her, taking a few small steps to be inches away from her Harry. “I’ll be back, H. I promise.” 

Placing a kiss to his wet cheek, he watched her walk away with a damp smile, and against his will, engrained the image of her leaving to his mind. 

This wasn’t how he imagined they would end. 

He didn’t even entertain the thought of them ever ending; but now he feels like he just lost every single atom of his being in the quickest of moments. 

—

It was hell. 

Harry could say with full conviction that it was absolute hell to be in that house, that big house on the beach, alone. 

Nothing felt right. From the second he woke up in the morning, to the minute he slid his legs under the covers at night, he almost felt nauseous because of how unusual he felt. How unusual everything felt. 

And it was all his fault. 

Picking up his phone, he goes to text his sweet girl again when he decides to scroll up to find the reprieve of gray amongst the sea of blue. 

Harry: Please text me when you land. 

Harry: I love you, please don’t forget that. 

Harry: Take all the time you need, Angel. I’m here if you need me. I’m so sorry.

Harry: I’ll be waiting for you when you get home. Just say the word and I’ll get you a ticket. 

Harry: Take your time though, please be safe. I love you.

Harry: Again

Y/N: just landed. kinda busy rn, talk to you later bug

Harry: That’s okay, be safe. ❤️

Y/N loved this message

Harry: I love you 

Y/N: yeah love you too h

Allowing his head to drop onto the back of the sofa, his arm fell limp onto his thigh, his green eyes scanned the interior of the living room, twinges of pain and guilt panting in his chest whenever he’d land his gaze on something that was proprietarily hers. 

Her growing orchids in a handmade pot that they’d painted together on their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. 

The godawful mirror she thrifted from a random corner store back in her hometown that she begged Harry to put up. 

A small canvas filled with tiny paintings of inside jokes and memorable dates that she gifted to him last Christmas. He allowed himself to trace over that painting for a little longer than the rest of the small things placed among their living room. 

11/29/19. The first time they met. 

1/16/21. When Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. 

4/07/21. The first time they said I love you. 

12/25/22. When Harry surprised Y/N on Christmas with a down payment on a house. The one he was now residing in, alone. 

A red convertible figurine, the car they first kissed in. 

A coffee cup and a teacup, symbolizing the first date they went on, where he learned she hates tea and preferred coffee, which led to an argument on whether coffee or tea was better. 

A small tulip, representing the first bouquet of flowers he ever bought her. 

And a small pearl ring, an exact replica of the promise ring Harry had given her on their 3 year anniversary. 

He didn’t even notice the streaks of tears beginning to run down his face until he felt a teardrop fall onto his inner wrist, making him look down. 

But as he canvassed the room once more, he perked up at the sight of a small snow globe that she brought him back from New York, and that was when he got an idea. He knew it was dramatic, and a bit of a stretch, but who said he wouldn’t go to extreme lengths to get his soulmate back?

Yeah, no one ever. 

To: Eliza

Harry: Hey Liz, got a sec?

—

Harry hated flying alone. 

Since he was a teenager and stepped foot on his first plane, he was anxious even being next to someone he barely knew even though his friends were two seats away. Though he would claim that he’s always been a bit anxious and just chalking it up to flight anxiety, he knew that the real reason why he hated flying alone was because he always feared that something bad would happen on the ground when he was in the air and vice versa, and that was always his greatest vice. 

His hands began to tremble nervously as he looked out the window of the airplane, seeing nothing but fluffy white on the exterior and the soft red light of the aircraft’s wings blinking every so often. His headphones were placed over his head, smushing his curls down flat onto his head, a mask covering the bottom half of his face. His hood was pulled up as well, trying to conceal himself as much as possible. He hadn’t brought much, just a little carry on and a small tote to shove under the seat in front of him. It was wishful thinking that he wouldn’t be there for a long while, but he brought the keys to his apartment in New York anyway. 

He kept his head hung in nausea, the speed of his shaking hands increasing tenfold. The pit in his stomach grew and he had to beg his own body to allow his eyes to not stray to the window next to him. Sure, he could close it, but he feared if it was too dark he would become more anxious than he was right now. The mask covering the bottom half of his face now felt constricting— as if he was being suffocated by the thin layer of fabric. The light douse of perfume that danced around the sunflower print of the mask couldn’t even distract him, and it only pained him more that his senses were fully encompassed by her. He bit down on his lip to distract himself by the whirling feeling of nausea that now swirled around in his throat, willing away the sick that begged to come out.

The rest of the flight was the same, his anxiety only decreasing when he allowed himself to take a small nap. However, when he woke up, his nerves had heightened when he flickered his gaze from the window to the screen in front of him, reading only 20 minutes until he was set to touch down. Grasping his phone from his hoodie pocket, he aligned it to his face then rolling his eyes when he remembered he had a mask on. Lowering his phone he typed in his password— Y/N’s birthday— and pulled up their messages again. 

Harry: Good morning baby. I love you. I hope you have a good day today!! 

Y/N: thanks h love you

He couldn’t lie and say that her being short with him didn’t hurt his feelings, because it did. He wasn’t going to avoid the fact, but that didn’t mean that he liked it regardless. He felt like a fool checking his phone so often, especially when he knew that she wouldn’t be making an effort to reach out first, but he could be hopeful, right? 

At least that’s what he’s telling himself. 

The plane landed safely, nerves rolling off of his back in waves and he was more than happy to leave his flight anxiety on the floor of the plane, relieved to not be miles high in the air. There was a lull that was obvious to Harry, and he felt himself switch to function in autopilot, waiting mindlessly to enter the aisle to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartment. 

The nippy New York air was the first thing to snap Harry out of his trance. Looking down at his phone, he felt a soft buzz and soon after felt his heart beat almost fast enough to eject from his chest. 

Y/N: saw this in a store earlier, thought of u

Y/N: Attachment: 1 Image 

Eliza: waiting near terminal b for you, lmk when you get outside 

Harry: I’m outside, can you see me?

Eliza: yep. be there in a sec

Swiping out of Y/N’s sisters messages, he went to click on Y/N’s before a black car stopped in front of him, averting his attention from his device to the car that just screeched to a halt. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he trudged forward and grabbed onto the door handle, prying it open and avoiding Eliza’s deathly stare. “Um- hiiii.” 

She scoffed. “Hi, H.” 

He throws his tote to his feet, awkwardly buckling himself in and turned in his seat, avoiding eye contact but making sure she knew that conversation was open if she’d wanted to make it. “How— um… How are you?”

Silence follows his words for a few seconds, making him heat up in embarrassment. “Good.” 

“Oh- that’s good… I, um— haven't seen y’in quite a while, Lizzy,” He says softly, guilt evident in his voice. “I missed you.” 

Eliza was basically Gemma’s best friend. They were attached at the hip the first time they met, bonding over being the eldest sisters, and shared secrets. Y/N and Harry’s family had always been interconnected, close with each other even if Y/N and Harry lacked that communication. 

They were basically soul tied in every sense of the phrase. 

“Yeah, I missed you too, H. But,” Eliza starts. “You’ve been a right dick to my sister.” 

“I know,” He whispers. 

“Do you? Fuck, H, my fucking baby sister came to me crying because of you. And you know how much I love you, truly, you know I do, but I love her more. So, I just have to ask,” She pauses, gnawing on her lip and clicking her blinker on to signal her turn. “What the hell happened?” 

“I,” He sniffs, trying to contain his emotions already begging to come out. “I don’t know.” 

Eliza snorts. “Bullshit.” 

“I— I really don’t, Lizzy. I guess I was really in m’head about… well, everything. I lo- love her so much,” Harry’s voice cracks, his facade shattering into more microscopic pieces than the most delicate sheet of glass ever could. 

“I know you do, H. That’s why this is so confusing to me. To Gems. And most importantly, to Y/N. What happened, Curly? How’d we lose you?” She begs, trying to get him to explain where he was mentally. She loved him as she would Y/N, which was the hardest part. It hurt her as much as it hurt him to confront him about the issue. 

“I don’t want her to hate me! Okay?” Harry sobs, chin falling to his chest in weakness. “I don’t want her t’hate me for being away all the time, and I’m so fucking scared. ‘M scared because the press is doing nothing but talking bad about me and I don’t know if I can equally protect her as much as she does me when this happens. When it happens t’me I jus’ ignore it, but I know she can’t do that. I know it, Lizzy, and so d’you.” 

“I know, H. I know.” She whispers. 

“I jus’ wanted to keep her as far away as I could so that if she did decide she didn’t want me anymore, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.” He murmurs so quietly, he himself even doubts if he said it out loud. 

Silence followed the rest of the car ride, the only sound filling the space of the vehicle being the soft splatter of rain on the glass windows and windshield, paired with the crackly static of the stereo. The sun even seemed to be hiding away, the sky dark with clouds, little to no light making an appearance to greet Harry’s arrival. 

Pulling up to her driveway, Eliza parked the car, keeping her ignition on so she could drive away after Harry got into the house. Turning to Harry, she chewed on her bottom lip as she traced his side profile with her eyes. “You need to tell her exactly what you told me. Word for word, Harry. You can’t keep her in the dark. She doesn’t even know I went to pick you up. So, just promise me that you’ll tell her exactly what you told me.” 

“I promise.” Harry’s voice cracked in a broken whisper, vocal cords thrumming against each other as if they were rusted. “Love you, Lizzy. Thank you.”

Stepping out of the car, he knocked on the door thrice, and tapped softly on the doorbell for good measure. His hands had gone cold with anxiousness, but he wrote it off as the stark cold weather of New York. 

“Harry? Oh my god, baby, get inside,” Y/N pulled him in immediately, pushing his thick puffer jacket off of him that was shiny with rainwater, hands coming up to pull his baby blue beanie from his hair, revealing his soft curls. They shared no words as she pulled him to the living room, where she sat the both of them down and covered the length of their torsos and legs with a big fluffy blanket. Y/N didn’t waste a second before she threw her legs over his thighs, grabbing his hands and rubbing over the cold and cracked red skin, trying to exude as much warmth from her own as much as she could. 

She’s always been warm. 

Her hands have always been graced with heat and more significantly, she always tended to carry around an aura as sweet as honey and as warm as a hug with her wherever she went. Bringing their hands up to his lips, he presses kisses all over the back of hers, kissing her knuckles and fingertips that moved erratically over his own. She could feel the dry chap of his lips on her hands and down to her wrists but she didn’t care. She didn’t mind one bit. She would rather commit the feeling of his lips on her hands to memory rather than not know what they felt like at all. 

“What’re you doing here, baby?” She asks, concern etched in her face as she lifts her head to look at him, her movements on his hands not staggering or slowing. 

“Came t’see you,” He whispers weakly. “Couldn’t bear it. I need t’see you, hold y’again… Fuck, do jus’ about anything to be near y’again.” 

Her heart twisted with the most intense emotion that she could only describe as heartbreak. “You— you got on a plane by yourself just to come see me?” 

“Would do jus’ about anything f’you, sweet girl. Of course I would go on a plane jus’ by myself if it meant I could hold you.” He admitted. He avoided eye contact with her, keeping his eyes trained on their conjoined hands that now lay stagnant on the soft fabric of the blanket. 

“Harry,” She whispers. “Why are you here, my love?” 

“I felt too guilty t’let you leave like that,” He says, gnawing on his bottom lip to will away the tears begging to escape. “I couldn’t let y’go without telling y’I loved you. And I didn’t…” He pauses, struggling for air as he over explained. “I didn’t even explain m’self. I didn’t tell you I loved you. I didn’t kiss y’back. I didn’t even tell y’to be safe.” 

He’s fully sobbing now, Y/N tracing his side profile with his eyes, jittering with fear and anxiety. “It’s okay, hey, baby, listen,” Grabbing his chin with the tips of her fingers, she turns his head to hers, resting his forehead atop of hers. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I just needed time to think and I didn’t want to lash out on you because I didn’t have time to. We’re okay, baby. I promise.” 

He shook his head while she spoke, tears falling on the fluff of the blanket with every movement. His eyes were clenched as if he was in pain, and uneven erratic breaths fell from his mouth. “Nonono. I should— should’ve listened to you. I did- didn’t mean t’treat y’like tha’,” Harry’s accent had gotten heavier with how much emotion he was feeling, stumbling over his words as if he was drunk. 

“And I should’ve explained myself more. It’s not your fault, H. Please baby, breathe,” She begged, tightening her grip on his hands as she pleaded with her nose slotted next to his, every whispered beg pushing her lips forward to lightly brush against his raw-bitten ones. “There, that’s it.” 

His breaths began to even out, just the slightest bit. His hands still shook dramatically, veins in his neck that once protruded from the force of his cries now retracting. “I’m sorry.” 

“Harry, stop apolog-“ 

“No. I have t’say this before I leave because if I don’t, I don’t think I ever will. I— I didn’t mean t’push y’away. I was trying to protect m’self but I didn’t see that it was hurting y’too. It wasn’t my intention, and now I realize it wasn’t the right thing t’do.” He sniffles, pulling back from her face to hold eye contact for the utmost emphasis on his words. 

“I tried to keep you far away because if you ended up resenting me for being away all the time it would hurt less if you decided to leave me. Paired with everything that’s being said in the media about m’right now, I tried t’keep y’as far away as I could so that if everything came crashing down on me, I would’ve had to cope with losing y’less than everything else. And I kept picking fights with y’so that if— or when y’got too fed up w’me, you’d leave me yourself instead of something else forcing y’to leave me. I think it was all subconscious, seeing how I freaked out on y’when y’told me you were leaving. I guess I didn’t really prepare myself for when it was really going t’happen. I’m really, really sorry, Angel. I really do hope y’can forgive me.” 

She’s silent. It scares him, he can’t lie. He takes her silence as an answer and pulls his hands from her grasp and moves her legs softly off of his thighs, standing up and brushing off his pants in an attempt to stall. She’s still mute, and he takes it as his cue to go. There’s still tears streaming down his face, but they’re silent. Like he doesn’t even want to acknowledge that they’re falling at all. 

“I love you.” He whispers, before turning and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he turns it, and his heart follows the motion with a sharp twist that he thinks he feels in his entire body. He’s gnawing in his lip to avoid breaking down in front of her, even though she’s arguably seen him at his worst and most vulnerable times. Opening the door, he’s greeted with the harsh cold air, biting at his skin so aggressively he feels like his tears have now frozen to his face. Bearing the pain, he forced himself to take the step out the doorway and onto the porch, on autopilot as he let his feet decide his motions. 

“Harry, wait,” Y/N pleaded, running out behind him, meeting him in the middle of the driveway in nothing but tiny shorts and a stolen crewneck of his that she'd haphazardly stuffed into her luggage. “I love you. I love you more than I could probably ever explain, and I— I just need you to know that. If you’re done with me or done with this, that’s okay, I just need you to know that I love you.” 

“I love you. Always.” He whispers, lips trembling with sadness. 

“You know I always will, right?” She asks, placing a warm hand onto his wet and cold cheek.

“I know, baby. I do.” He says. 

“I’m here whenever you want me. I promise.” She pleads, coming up to reach his lips, placing a soft kiss to his cold ones. 

“Come home, please.” 

“Always, H. I’ll always come right back home to you.”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Practice

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Paul Aron

A/N: I really wasn't going to post anything on Tumblr for a while and to just use the anger and betrayal I feel inside of me to write as a form of an outlet. I've had this request done for a while but with everything going on I didn't want to post it but I already feel bad to the person that requested it for keeping them waiting for so long and since Oscar won today, I feel like this is an appropriate time.

After posting this, I do not know how long until I post again but know whenever I do decide it is the right time for me (mentally) to come back, I will have lots of stories to post along with writing more.

Again, thank you to everyone who has reached out to me and wishing me well and reblogging that post along with sending requests to other writers asking them to spread the word and to block and report that person, I do see them and I do really appreciate all the support.

Farewell, for now. I will see you all again soon.

Requested (idk where the actual ask went but I did write it in my notes app where I do rough drafts): Please could you do a story Oscar piastri x y/n x paul aron smut I'm dying for the two of them 🔥 @deepestrunawaykitty

SMUT

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

It was a hot July Saturday night, and I felt my heart race as I entered the club with my boyfriend, Oscar. The bass pumped through my body, setting the tone for a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I wore a tight, black dress that hugged my body in all the right places. my long hair fell loosely and my eyes sparkled with anticipation. Oscar looked dashing as always, his brown hair tussled, and that seductive smirk playing on his lips. He was a Formula 1 driver, and his bad-boy charm had me hooked from the start.

As we made our way through the crowd, hands brushing against each other, the familiar lyrics of Drake's "Practice" filled the room. This was our song, the one that played on repeat during our steamy make-out sessions. Oscar leaned in close, his hot breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "You know what this song does to me, babe. It makes me want to take you right here on the dance floor and show everyone what you're mine."

I felt my core clench at his words, my nipples hardening against the soft fabric of my dress. I loved it when Oscar talked dirty, and tonight, I wanted to give myself completely to him. "Then take me," I purred, pressing my body against his, feeling the hard length of his cock straining against his pants. "I'm yours to do with as you please."

Oscar's hand slid down my back, pulling my body tight against his. With his other hand, he reached under my dress, his fingers teasing the soaked fabric of my panties. "You're so wet already, baby. Who knows, maybe I'll let one of my friends have a taste of this tight pussy tonight." I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers found my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles. "Oh, yes, Oscar," I gasped. "I'm yours to share. Do whatever you want with me."

As if on cue, Oscar's friend, Formula 2 driver Paul Aron, joined us on the dance floor. He was tall and muscular, with a mischievous smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Well, well, well," he said, his eyes roaming over my body. "Looks like someone's ready to play."

"She certainly is," Oscar replied, his hand still working its magic between my thighs. "Why don't you say hello, Paul?"

Paul didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled me against him, his lips crashing down on mine in a passionate kiss. I melted into the kiss, my hands exploring Paul's body as his tongue dueled with mine. I could feel both of their erections pressing into me, and it drove me wild.

Breaking the kiss, Oscar guided me to turn around, pressing my body against the hard planes of Paul's chest. "Such a beautiful view," Oscar murmured, nuzzling my neck. "Seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock while Paul fucks that tight pussy from behind." I moaned, my eyes rolling back as Paul's hands slid up my thighs, lifting my dress. "Mmm, yes, Oscar," I breathed. "I want you both. Please, fuck me. Make me yours."

Without warning, Oscar spun me around and pressed my against the nearby wall, his mouth claiming mine in a voracious kiss. my senses spun out of control as I felt Paul's hands on my waist, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed the length of his hard cock against my aching pussy. "You ready for me, baby?" he growled, grinding his hips against her.

"Please," I begged, my head falling back as Oscar kissed and nibbled on my neck. "Fuck me, Paul. Give it to me hard."

With one swift thrust, Paul impaled me on his thick shaft, burying himself balls-deep inside me. I cried out, my nails digging into Oscar's shoulders as I felt myself stretched around his cock. Paul began to move, his hips snapping as he pounded into me, each thrust hitting me deep and hard.

Oscar's hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples. He kissed and sucked on my neck, marking me as his. "You like that, baby? You like being fucked by my friend while I watch?"

"Yes," I moaned, my head tossing back and forth as pleasure washed over me. "Oh, God, yes. It feels so good, Oscar. Don't stop."

Paul's hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he thrust faster and harder, his grunts filling the air. I felt her orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in my belly. "I'm gonna cum," I panted, my fingers tangling in Oscar's hair. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

As if sensing my impending release, Oscar reached between our bodies, his fingers finding my swollen clit. He rubbed me in slow, firm circles, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through me. "That's it, baby, cum for us. Let me taste that sweet pussy."

And cum I did. With a strangled cry, my body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. My juices flowed around Paul's cock, making his thrusts even more delicious. "That's it, take it," Paul grunted, his hips slapping against my ass. "Cum all over my cock, you dirty girl."

As my orgasm began to subside, Paul quickened his pace, chasing his own release. I felt his cock twitch inside her, and with a final, powerful thrust, he filled me with his hot cum. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside me.

But the night was far from over.

After a brief respite, Oscar led us to a more secluded area of the club. His eyes were dark with desire as he pushed me against a nearby couch, his lips capturing mine in a fierce kiss. Paul stood beside us, his eyes burning with lust as he watched his friend take what he wanted from my willing body.

Oscar broke the kiss, his breath hot on my face as he said, "Get on your knees, baby. I want your mouth."

I obeyed without hesitation, my heart pounding with anticipation. I knew Oscar loved deepthroating, and the thought of taking him all the way down my throat made my pussy drip. I looked up at him with hooded eyes, my lips parted, as I reached for the belt of his pants.

Oscar undid his belt, freeing his hard length. my eyes widened at the sight of his thick, veined cock, the head already glistening with pre-cum. I licked my lips, leaning forward to flick my tongue over the sensitive tip. "Mmm," I moaned, tasting the salty sweetness of him. "I've been waiting all night for this."

I took him into my mouth, sucking slowly, bobbing my head up and down as my hands stroked his length. Oscar's hands tangled in my hair, guiding my pace as he moaned above me. "That's it, baby, just like that. Take it all."

my lips slid down his shaft, my tongue swirling as I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel his cock hit the back of my throat, and I relaxed, allowing him to slide down my throat. Oscar groaned, his hips bucking as he held me still, his cock buried deep. "Fuck, yes, that's it, take it all," he panted.

Pulling back, I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks as I swirled my tongue. Oscar's hands tightened in my hair, guiding me in a fast, hard rhythm as he used my mouth for his pleasure. "You love that cock, don't you, baby?" he growled. "You're such a dirty little cock slut."

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed around his shaft, my eyes flashing with desire. "I love it, Oscar. I love sucking your big cock."

Paul stood beside them, stroking his hardening cock as he watched the erotic display. "Damn, that's fucking hot," he muttered. "Seeing her mouth wrapped around your cock is making me hard again, Oscar."

A wicked smile curved Oscar's lips as he pulled me off his cock, a strand of saliva connecting our mouths. "I think it's time for that double penetration I've been craving, don't you?"

my pussy clenched at his words, the thought of being filled by both men at once sending a thrill through my body. I nodded eagerly, my eyes shining with anticipation. "Please, yes. Fuck me, both of you. I want it so bad."

Oscar positioned me on my hands and knees on the couch, my ass raised in the air, my pussy exposed and glistening with my juices. "Ride that cock, Paul," he instructed, his eyes sparkling with lust. "I'm gonna stretch her throat while you pound that tight pussy."

Paul lined himself up, sliding into my wet heat with ease. I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as I felt myself stretched around his thickness once again. Oscar guided my head down onto his cock, holding me still as he thrust his hips, fucking my mouth hard and fast.

The sensation of being filled at both ends pushed me closer to the edge. I felt Paul's hands grip my hips, setting a brutal pace as he slammed into me. Oscar's cock pumped in and out of my mouth, his balls slapping against my chin. "That's it," Oscar grunted. "Take it, you dirty slut. Take both our cocks."

The sounds of their grunts and my muffled moans filled the room. “So dirty for us, such a slut” Oscar grunted. His words sent me over the edge. I cried out around Oscar's cock as my orgasm ripped through me, my body shaking with the force of it. Paul roared his release, his cum shooting deep inside me as he rode out his orgasm.

With a final, hard thrust, Oscar held my head down on his shaft, his hips bucking as he filled my mouth with his hot load. I swallowed, milking him with my mouth as he groaned my name.

Collapsing onto the couch, all three of us panted, a tangle of sweaty, satisfied bodies. I smiled, my body buzzing with satisfaction. This was definitely a night I would never forget.

—————

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

[serpentandlily]

Beneath the Ashes - Azriel x Reader

Beneath the Ashes - Azriel x Illyrian!Reader

Sneak Peek

Summary: Azriel finally finds the girl he’s been looking for all these years—his mate. But unfortunately for him, his mate happens to be an Illyrian who, upset over the fact that he’s turned his back on his own people, wants nothing to do with him. (Enemies to lovers vibes, angst)

A/n: I feel bad that I haven’t had anything ready for you guys in a while so here’s a little sneak peek at a request I’m working atm

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Azriel was not happy, to say the least. Not as he landed on the cold, hard ground of one of the Illyrian war camps in the northern region of the mountains. He internally cursed at Cassian for still being on his mating honeymoon with Nesta because now he was being forced to do things Cass would normally be in charge of—primarily dealing with the Illyrians.

It wasn't a secret that Azriel hated Illyria and all its people. Hated that he came from such a barbaric, backwards culture. He knew Cass was trying to do all he could to break the traditions Illyrians held, but Azriel had always told him they were a lost cause. If he could never see these damn mountains again, he'd consider it a blessing.

But, evidently, that was not a blessing he'd be allowed—at least, not until Cassian returned. For now, he was the one who was being sent out on these missions by his High Lord.

Rhys had gotten word that some commotion was happening in the camp that had its people up in arms about something. He had asked Azriel to go check it out and who was he to turn down a request from his brother? So here he was. He was just hoping to get this over with soon.

He had tried sending his shadows ahead of time to collect intel, but they had been acting weird ever since they returned to him. They had swarmed him with their cryptic messages.

Beautiful.

Our master must see.

Permission to kill, master?

Needless to say, Azriel had no fucking idea what any of that meant. He had given them no such permission to kill, at least, not until he could see for himself what was transpiring here.

He was passing by the training rings, ignoring the stares of the brutes who were working out and sparring within them, when he heard several sets of loud voices. He quickened his pace, following the voices into the residential section of the camp until he finally beheld what was causing the commotion.

Three males were on the porch of one of the cabins, restraining a female Illyrian, who was thrashing around like a wildcat, screaming, "Let me go, you assholes!"

Another male Azriel recognized as the War Lord of the camp was standing on the steps leading up to the small cabin, arms crossed and a sneer on his face. A male next to him was holding a blubbering Illyrian toddler, whose arms were outstretched towards the female with tears pouring down her chubby cheeks.

None of them had noticed him yet which Azriel used to his advantage. His shadows were already wailing when he let them loose. They spiral towards the group, swirling around the males holding the female and yanking them away from her. All of their heads snapped in Azriel's direction except for the female. She tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled to get up and rushed towards the male next to the War Lord, not even sparing a glance at what had caused the males to unleash her.

She went to grab the little girl from the male holding her but was quickly held back by the War Lord with a growl. The War Lord twisted her arms behind her back, holding her in place, but his glare was firmly set on Azriel.

Azriel's face displayed no emotions as he stalked forward, his hand ghosting over Truth-Teller.

"Shadowsinger," the War Lord bit out in greeting. The other males quickly got to their feet and stood at attention.

"Silas," Azriel said, not bothering to address him properly which made the male bristle, "Care to explain what is happening here?"

"None of your business, Shadowsinger," Silas hissed. "I have it under control."

"Doesn't seem like it," Azriel replied, coolly.

The female was still trying to break out of Silas's grip, cursing under her breath. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to hiss in pain as he twisted her wrists in his hands. Azriel's shadows seemed to hiss in response, poised to attack as soon as Azriel gave them permission.

Azriel's gaze fell on the female, noting the frustrated tears in her eyes. It seemed like there had been a scuffle. Her hair was half falling out of her braid, she had scrape marks on one of her cheeks, and a bruise was beginning to form on her jaw. One of her wings was flared out proudly while the other drooped to the floor at a weird angle. His fists clenched at the sight and when she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the breath was completely knocked out of his lungs.

Despite her tattered appearance, she was single-handedly the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He stood frozen for a moment, taken aback before he shook himself out of the spell she seemed to cast on him, realizing how inappropriate of a time it was to be ogling her.

"Let her go, Silas," Azriel commanded in a dark voice.

"I don't take orders from you," Silas spat out. "Besides, this female has been breaking the law for months now. We're taking her into custody."

"Fuck you," the female barked out, stomping on Silas's foot. The male cursed and went to strike her on the back of her head but Azriel's shadow caught his wrist in their grasp before he could.

"I said," Azriel growled, lowly, causing the males to shift in place, "Let her go."

"Fine," Silas sneered, though a tiny bit of fear flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed her to the ground in front of him. She was quick to spring back to her feet and rush towards the toddler who was still screeching. The male could hardly keep hold of the little girl.

"Let the babe go, too," Azriel snapped. The male scoffed but set the little girl down. She immediately ran to the female who bent down with her arms wide open, catching the little girl and standing with her firmly on her hip. The little girl's cries quieted down and she buried her small face in the female's neck.

"Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Azriel snarled, taking another step closer. Half the males mirrored his step back and he fought the urge to chuckle.

"Like I said," Silas snapped, "This female has been breaking the law—”

“What law?” Azriel asked, firmly.

“Females are not permitted to live alone nor own houses,” Silas barked out. “She has ignored our warnings—”

“My father left the cabin to me in his will!” The female shouted, causing the small toddler in her arms to whimper. She stroked the girl's hair, shushing her. “It belongs to me.”

“I don’t care what your father promised you,” Silas growled. “It is against the law for you to be living here alone. You must surrender the cabin and go live in the barracks with the other unwed females of marrying age. Your sister will be placed under the care of the matron.”

“Like hell I’m leaving her under the care of that female! You’re just going to have her wings clipped and force her to do grueling chores all day! She stays with me!”

“You are out of line! I knew your father wasn’t raising the two of you right. Ever since your mother passed away—”

“Don’t you dare say another word about my parents!”

The War Lord lunged towards the female with a growl but Azriel shadowed between them, unsheathing Truth-Teller and pressing it against the male’s throat.

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll gut you right here in front of all of your brutes,” Azriel snarled.

Silas stepped back with a scoff. “You want to stick your nose in our business? Fine, then she’s your problem. I expect her out of this house by the end of today, Shadowsinger, or there will be worse consequences.”

He stormed away, his entourage trailing behind him while sending glares to the female. Azriel waited until they were out of view before he turned to look at the female but she was gone from next to him, already walking up the steps to the cabin with the babe—her sister—on her hip.

Azriel went to follow her but she stormed into the cabin and slammed the door in his face before he could so much as utter a single word. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he knocked on the door. When Rhys had mentioned a problem happening in this camp, he hadn't expected to deal with something like this. It would’ve been much easier if it had been a problem he could solve with his fists.

When she didn't answer, he knocked harder—nearly causing the door to shutter.

It flung open a second later, a seething female behind it. "I already told those assholes I'm not leaving. If you're here to tell me to pack up and move, you can kiss my ass."

Azriel had to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smirk at her words. He wasn't used to dealing with female Illyrians that had attitudes. Most of them kept their heads down and stayed quiet. His mother had been like that....

"I'm not here to tell you that," Azriel answered. "May I come inside?"

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms and staring him down. He found himself even more amused at how she was trying to intimidate him. Most fae avoided him and his gaze. But a female, whose head barely reached his shoulders, seemed to be completely unfazed by him.

"No, you may not," she snapped. "Anything you need to say to me can be said perfectly fine from where you're standing."

“Can I at least bring a healer to come check out your injuries?” He eyed the scrapes on her face, the bruise and her drooping wing. Azriel’s chest ached at the sight and anger pulsed under his skin. He wanted to turn around and go rip those males apart limb by limb for laying a hand on her.

“I don’t need your help, shadowsinger,” she spat out.

"Fine," Azriel sighed. "I was sent by the High Lord because there's been reports of someone here causing disarray. I'm going to assume that someone is you."

She shrugged, nonchalantly, her eyes flickering between his own and the shadows swirling around him that wouldn't shut up about how beautiful she was, how brave....They were singing her praise. It confused him. His shadows had never acted like this before.

When she failed to answer, Azriel cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Will you answer my question?”

“Aren’t you the spymaster?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be able to gather intel yourself and not rely on a lowly Illyrian female?”

“A lowly Illyrian female?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at her crass words towards herself.

“Isn’t that how you and all the High Lord’s dogs view us?” Her tone was biting, her eyes filled with hate.

Azriel shifted, at a loss for words. He was used to being met with hostility by the Illyrians, but never usually from the females themselves. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

It was a lousy response, but he truly had no idea what to say. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him and moved from the doorway, grasping the door.

“Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t care enough to do so,” she snapped. “Now, if that is all, you can kindly escort yourself off my property, shadowsinger. Thank you.”

The door slammed in his face a second later

[glitterjay]

do u write poly? cuz since i saw this (https://x.com/baekwoniee/status/1804722513248710738?t=llnKbmNUddMJtFrYH9MFoQ&s=19) i can't stop thinking about being sandwiched between them lolol

can it be a lil suggestive? ☝🏼👁

link!

⭒ poly relationship, bf!jayke, short, suggestive content implied at the end, minors dni

⭒ c's note: i dont mind writing threesomes or ploy relationships, but i cant promise you whatever comes out will be good...

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

being loved by two handsome men at the very same time was thee life. having jay's act of services around and jake's playful and fun personality was the perfect combo and perfect balance.

today's case was having a movie date at home, where you'd watch movies all day with your two boyfriends and enjoy their presence. as jay got some food ready, you and jake tried to set up the living room for the occasion. blankets and pillows where getting tossed on the couch to create a "big nest" as jake called it.

once you were done, you both cuddled up next to each other waiting for jay so you could start your movie marathon. you had settled on watching the marvel series as they were pretty long and they would take some time to go through.

"jay, dude, hurry up! we'll start without you."

"im here, im here. why did i settle up with the most impatient people in the whole world..." he joked, leaving the food he brought from the kitchen in the coffee table.

"because you love us!" you said, scooting closer to jake's side to leave some space for jay. "come here, lets cuddle while we watch."

-

two hours had passed already, and you could tell both men were starting to get bored. jake was starting to yawn very often, and jay was busy scrolling through his phone, ignoring the movie. an idea popped in your head and it was time to start working.

you huffed at jay to get his attention, jake not paying much attention to his surrounding, and you took the phone from his hands. "i thought we were watching a movie, not our phones! get off of it." he chuckled and nodded in defeat, but you were not done just yet. you took his hand and placed it on your thigh, using the excuse that he couldnt move it away or else he's grab his phone again.

to him it was just an innocent way to get him to actually watch the movie, but you knew he'd start moving his hand up and down sometime soon. he always did.

now you turned your attention to jake, who had one arm wrapped around your waist, so you were basically stuck to his side. he was already making direct contact with you, less work to do.

you simply faked a yawn and grabbed the arm that was loosely resting on your hip, bringing it up to rest under your shirt on your tummy. now you had them where you wanted them. you where almost squished between them, having them make direct contact with your body that would soon tempt them into doing more.

"why dont we make our own movie?"

© glitterjay | tumblr

[bellewintersroe]

Lance Stroll x HornerDaughter! BFF Smut.

Ok this is loosely based of an audio linked by @2-fast-2-curious because she’s doing gods work out here with her F1 audio masterlist, I’m not sure if I should link the actual audio I don’t wanna steal anything, but anyway here’s some Lance smut so 18+. warning: explicit content, intoxication, funny drunken arguments, masturbation, unprotected sex, unexpected sex, creampie, oral, admission of feelings? probs not a warning but yolo. I LOVE writing as reader being Horner’s daughter it’s just fun ok. Reader and Lance are besties and have been for a while but they reunite and something clicks between them, anyway enjoy…

Partying it up in Monaco was probably the pinnacle of my life. Nothing could get better than being 22 and dancing on a yacht with all of your closest friends. Promiscuous Girl was blaring through the speakers as the yacht began its way back to dock in the harbour. It was a Saturday night and the expensive town of Monte Carlo was bustling. Vibrant nights exploded through the night sky and vibrations of all kinds of music spread through my body.

“Should you be up there?!” Lance asked, one of my closest friends as he stared up to me on the back of the drivers platform. “No.” I giggled, “c’mon, let’s get you down.” He held his hands out, helping me down off the side. “We’re going back to Jaspers, are you coming?” He questioned as I jumped, a little uneasy on my feet as the boat rocked slightly.

“We’re going back to Jaspers? And not a club?!” I almost burst out laughing, out of everywhere to choose from we were going back to a house party- equivalent to afters? “Yeah, I don’t know why.” Lance shook his head, watching me for a second before scanning around the boat. When he turned away I stole a glimpse before mimicking his action of watching all our friend. The good majority of us had known each other for a good 10+ years, now we were all back in Monaco to celebrate nothing particular, it felt like a school reunion. “Aren’t you glad to be back with everyone?” I then nudged the Canadian who I’d known since being a child. “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. Everything feels normal again.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean…” I faintly muttered, gazing into the distance. “You’re so corny, you know!” I then teased, jabbing his side. “Hey, you asked!” He playfully knocked me back as we engaged in a gentle scuffle. “You’re the one person I hoped wasn’t coming to this party!” He joked as I gasped, “and you’re the one person I want to push overboard!” With a gentle shove back, Lance giggled cheekily, holding my arms still.

“Get your dirty hands off me. I don’t know where they’ve been.” I teased, firmly crossing my arms across my chest. “You don’t even wanna know, miss Horner.”

“You’re right, I don’t… I’m gonna go get a drink before we dock, you coming?” “Sure…”

Soon enough we docked, and the main bulk of us went to Jasper’s house. I mainly lingered around my closest girls, piling into the bathroom, sitting in the bathtub, having deep conversations in the tub one minute and then dancing the next. It was just like how it felt when we were all 16. I’d always eagerly tried to recreate my teenage years, missing the freedom and carefree attitude I always had, so the whole nice was like a free cure for any of my problems. At one point, Jasper and Kiran, butted heads. They were way too drunk, and you just know when their shirts off and their ego’s were inflated, there’d be trouble. “Nah bro, you’re still the same as school.” Jasper waved him off, Kiran frowning, squint growing as he got progressively more angry. Kiran and Jasper went to the same international school in the south of France, they always fought. They’d fight over girls, alcohol, cars, money, and when there was nothing to fight over they’d fight over nothing.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The Italian responded as a few of us gathered, waiting for the entertainment to start. “You’re still a prick mate, you act like a fucking 16 year old.” “Oh, here we go…” Somebody muttered from besides me, I glanced up to see Lance and a smile grew. “What are they fighting over now?”

“Erm, something to do with shoes and alcohol bottles, I don’t even know.” I waved it off. “Nice.” Lance, along with about six more of us stood and watched the argument progress until the men were almost head butting one another.

“Maybe I should stop this now…” Lance comically sighed. “Or maybe I should wait for it to get physical.” Within seconds it got physical. “Oh shit.” Lance flew forwards and others attempted to break up the fight. It was comical, drunken fights always were so dramatic, it made me laugh. I stood there and laughed out loud, I must’ve looked so unhelpful but when masculine men got all fragile and crazy it was funny. The fight caused the party to end, probably at the right time, many people were staying there, but with my family’s house nearby, I thought it would be best just to head back. “Oh you’re leaving?!” My friend Molly exclaimed.

“I’m going to bed.” I yawned, my sobriety taking over and exhausting me. “What? You’re not staying over here?!” She exclaimed. “I was gonna go to my bed.” I was then met with a chorus of complaints pleading me to stay as it would be ‘just like old times’. What I didn’t expect was to be stuffed on a sheet on the floor in a room where the air-con was blasting me to death. I was in my underwear and one of Jasper’s shirts, trying to bunch up as much blanket as possible but Naomi, who I slept besides, rolled over and took them all. After an hour or so the sleep wouldn’t come, so I excused myself (silently) and just stood in the hallway shuddering slightly. I suppose it wasn’t too late to go home, it was nearing 4:30AM and sleep would be non existent, unless I found somebody who actually had a bed to themselves. I turned lightly seeing the door to Lance’s room on the bottom floor open, swiftly I patted down the stairs with a quiet giggle knowing I could bug him enough to sleep in the bed. We used to share all the time when we were younger, so to me it wasn’t such a big deal.

Creeping in, I nudged open the door to see Lance’s face lit up with the reflection of his face. “Hey..” he whispered, a smile growing as he dropped his phone to one side. “Can I come in?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure. Shut the door behind you.” He pushed himself up a little to reveal he was shirtless. Again, no big deal, right? I giggled, closing the door behind me as he patted the bed besides him. “Couldn’t sleep?” He questioned. “No, I was on the floor and Naomi was hogging the covers.” I tucked my legs up under me on the bed, facing him directly. “Unlucky. You cold? Come get under.” The Canadian hushed, budging up as I felt the relief of slipping under the blankets, warm from where he’d been laying.

“Why’re you awake?” I then questioned pulling them all the way up over my shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep. Hey, this is like old times again isn’t it?” He nudged softly, the warm of his arm brushing against the cool of mine with a hiss. “You’re so cold, c’mere.” He wrapped his arm around me, sinking down into the sheets as we borderline cuddled. “Now it’s like old times.” I pointed out as he giggled again. “Oh yeah? We used to do this a lot, didn’t we?” Expect now it felt different. Lance and I were no longer awkward and frigid 16 year olds, he had muscles, I had boobs, there was extra parts pushing against extra parts and it made me feel… different.

“I know, back when we were both frigid.” I whispered knocking into his chest which my arm laid across. Lance let out a laugh a little too loud in return. “We both were weren’t we..” He then sighed as I let out a giggle before a comfortable silence took over us. “This bed is so much comfier.” I muttered, staring into the darkness of the bedroom. Truthfully, there was something a lot more intimate about sharing a bed with Lance all these years later. “You’re a lot comfier than you used to be.” I nuzzled up, my chest pressing up against his side. “Me? Really, why?” “Muscles.” I squeezed at his bicep playfully as he swatted me away when the action must’ve been ticklish. “Yeah well, you’ve got tits now, didn’t you used to be like a waterboard?!” He fired back playfully as I choked out a gasp, attempting to push at him but his hands grasped mine.

“I had small ones, thank you very much!” Lance laughed at my response. “Oh, what the fuck.” He quickly spoke, arm falling back around me and resting softly on my upper back. “What?” I giggled, pushing up. Our faces were super close and for the first time in forever I felt something spark up inside of me. Lance’s smile softened as his eyes roamed over my face before down to my chest.

“Who’s shirt is that?” “My boyfriends.” I lied as Lance shifted quickly. “I’m kidding. It’s Jaspers!” My eyes widened. “Oh.” There was an evident relief on his face and in that moment I felt my knee knock against his leg. “I had no shirt to sleep in, but it’s kinda… uncomfortable.” The shirt was scratchy, it was drowning me and I most definitely couldn’t sleep in it. “Why don’t you take it off?” Lance glanced up and down to my propped up state. His words were quick and I could see the slight worry that twitched in his eye after he answered. “Take it off? Now?” My breath was hitched as the two of us stared back to each other.

“Yeah…” Lance didn’t break eye contact as my lips stretched out into a grin at his seriousness. “What? Shut the fuck up, I’m being serious.” He joked as I smirked down, fiddling with the hem of it.

“But I’m not wearing anything under…” “Oh you’re not?” Lance seemed on edge, eyes constantly dropping down. The peaks of my nipples were pressed up against the fabric and if he looked close I swore he could see the outline of my piercings.

“No…” I whispered gently as his free hand slid forwards, fiddling with the end of my shirt. It seemed to happen in an instant that my top was off and my breasts were exposed. I giggled, covering them slightly as I laid back, Lance propped to the side of me. “Don’t go all shy!” He chuckled. “I’m not, I’m not.” I pushed them together slightly, feeling Lances eyes fixated on them. I knew I was getting turned on, I wondered if he felt the same? There was an undeniable tension between us and I was shocked that we’d actually crossed the barrier of being ‘just friends’. “You’ve got really good tits.” His voice lowered, as I scanned over his body. “Your turn.” Except the only thing he was wearing was his underwear. With a smile, Lance pushed his hands under the hem of his Calvin Kleins, freeing himself but he was hidden under the duvet. “What’re we doing right now?” He quickly laughed to himself as I giggled, arching my back slightly. “Is this weird?” He then muttered, hand disappearing under the covers. “I don’t know, is it?”

“No… what’d you- uh, want me to do?” Lance quietly asked, almost shyly. “I don’t want you to do anything.” I teased, giggling as I glanced down. “You just said take them off!” By the looks of it they were already half off. “I know!” “Fuck it… now I’m fully naked and you’re not!” He pointed out. “You want me to take my underwear off?” My heart was beating rapidly as I laid against the pillow, gazing up to him. His hand brushed against my naked waist, resulting in me swallowing harshly.

“Yeah, I want you to..” his voice was so gentle I barely heard it. I looked down, my hands sliding under the band of my thongs feeling his hand meeting mine and pushing them off, exposing me completely. I felt the blood rush to my core as I squeezed my legs together, looking back up to him with a smile.

“What do you wanna do now?” I lightly asked. “I dunno- you wanna kiss me?” To this I burst out laughing. “Fine! We won’t kiss!” He chuckled, placing a hand on my stomach.

“Wouldn’t that make it weird?” I dumbly asked, becoming lost at the sensation of his large hand sprawled across my stomach and hip bone. “What and this wouldn’t?” He muttered, fingers grazing over my skin as I inhaled deeply.

“No.” I swallowed, glancing down to where Lance’s hand had slipped off me and onto himself. “What’re you having a wank or something?” I teased. “No, I’m just… I’m fucking hard.” He admitted as I felt a blush rise on my face.

“Why?”

“Why? Cos you’re naked and fucking hot as fuck right now.” He spoke as I smiled, “you wanna touch yourself?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Lance borderline whined as I felt his movements begin under the covers. I bit down on my finger, giggling deviously as butterflies erupted in my lower stomach. I didn’t think I’d been this turned on in a long long time- and it was over one of my lifelong friends? I always knew Lance was hot, but not this hot.

“Touch yourself as well, it’s only fair.” He panted out a laugh as my fingers slipped down. The minute I made contact with my clit I felt relief, applying pressure to my throbbing pussy. “Fuck.” Lance uttered, mesmerised as his eyes wandered over me, his jaw slightly hung slack as he jittered as his hand moved a little quicker.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” I snickered, hearing him hum out a laugh. “Can I touch you?” He then questioned, making me slightly nervous. “Yeah.” God, I wanted him to, the room felt red hot with tension. Lance’s hand slid over my tits, giving them a squeeze slightly before moving down to my pussy. He didn’t waste anytime, I was getting wetter by the second, and when his fingers touched me I let out a soft gasp at the sensation. My best friend was touching me so intimately, the more I watched him, the more shocked I was, it felt fucking great, the adrenaline was pumping inside of me and I felt desperate for Lance. I was trying to keep quiet, and also keep my composure, but Lance was too fucking good at this. “I need to taste you, fuck.” He shifted, sliding to the end of the bed as I covered my mouth with my arm, choking out a moan.

Lance was like a fucking god as he ate me out. His mouth was so warm against my pussy and he physically moaned as he licked and sucked over my clit. “Fuck- I can’t believe you’re so good at this.”

“Yeah… you wanna return the favour?” He teased. “Yeah.” I seriously whined. “Yeah?” He kissed my upper pubic bone as I lifted my head, nodding with a gentle breath. Lance switched our positions around, scraping my hair back gently as I smiled, shyly moving forwards.

“Is this weird?” I asked, his cock literally in my hand. “No.” He seemed tense. “Just go slow or I might bust too quick.”

“Really?” I slowly tugged on his member, teasing over the smooth skin as he let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, don’t laugh.” He nudged my shoulder as I giggled, moving down and wrapping my lips around his cock. Hearing Lance moan as I pleasured him with my mouth was something I never expected. It felt so dirty and raunchy, it turned me on even more. The way his arms trembled as he gripped the bed sheets, sliding his fingers through my hair, or when he pleaded for me to slow down.

“Fuck, don’t cum!” I laughed, swiping my thumb against the corner of my mouth. “You’re so fucking good at that, oh my god…” he sounded so turned on, his voice was low and sultry, pulling me by the arms on top of him. “I wanna fuck you, can I fuck you?” He was wide eyes, scanning over my own.

“Yeah.” I was breathless, reaching for his cock as I eased it inside myself, the two of us letting out a sigh in pleasure. It had been so long since anybody had fucked me, and the fact it was Lance made everything feel 10x better.

“Oh my god.” I moaned as I bounced ontop of him. “Oh fuck, baby, bounce on my cock, like that.”

“Lance.” I whined in response as he hummed, holding onto either side of my hips. “You feel so good.” His head tipped back with a moan as I lifted my hips, bouncing on my knees on top of his cock.

“So do you.” I panted, the sound of our skin slapping and the bed creaking filling the room. We continued like that for a few more minutes, Lance pulled me down, our faces inches apart as he fucked into me. “Fuck, I’ve needed this so bad.” He groaned, his hips slapping into mine as I let out an open mouthed moan, his hand sliding up the back of my head.

“Kiss me, fuck y/n, kiss me.” Lance begged as I pressed my lips against his firmly. It felt so good, the kiss was so heated and desperate, it spurred the sex on further.

“Fuck, my legs.” I groaned, “lazy.” Lance teased as I scoffed. “Shut up or I’ll stop.” He smirked, flipping us around as the bed creaked under out movements. There was movement outside the other room, footsteps drawing closer and moving past the room as Lance and I stared back to each other in amusement. “Sh, sh, sh.” He hushed, looking towards the door. I giggled, bucking my hips up playfully.

“They’re going to the bathroom.” He whispered, turning down and laughing, purposefully pinning his hips up against mine to the bed. The movements started again, slowly. I could hear whoever was in the toilet flushing the toilet and the run of the tap, until we heard the bedroom door close again it was a mission to stay quiet. “Fuck me properly now, fuck me.” I pleaded with Lance, wrapping my arms over his shoulder as he spread my legs wider, beginning to thrust into me once again. Our quiet moans filled the room, his cock pushed up deep inside of me as his balls slapped against my skin.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, oh my god.” He laughed as I giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “I wanted you for so long.” He admitted as I let out another moan, muffling it with another kiss. “Fuck me, fuck me.” The sex continued, in doggy, spooning, back in missionary, it felt like we were at it for ages.

“Can you cum like this?” Lance questioned, voice on edge as he held me close. “Not like this.” I admitted, he didn’t hesitate to move down and pleasure me with his mouth again.

It didn’t take long before he was pushing me over the edge, giving me the first ever orgasm from oral ever. I felt like I was in bliss, and after a few more thrusts inside of me, Lance was jerking himself over my stomach and tits, spilling his cum with a bitten back groan.

“Fuck, fuck.” The Canadian man tossed his head back, falling forwards on top of me, kissing me deeply as I hummed against his lips, scraping my hand through his messy hair. “You were so fucking good.” I cooed as he let out a husky hum, continuing to keep his lips against mine.

“So were you. Fuck, I’ve been in love with you for so long…” his words startled me, a warmth spreading through me as I gasped out. “Have you?” He pushed up on top of me, lingering there as he nodded shyly.

“I think- I think I love you too…”

[berrieluv]

cw. squirting, fingering, kitchen sex, unrequited feelings, a bit of angst?, dom remus, remus is a sweetheart.

doctor!Remus Lupin x fem!Reader summary: Remus is hot, and tall and unbelievable good at sex. The fact that he's a pediatrician is just a plus.

Remus Lupin was tall and handsome, his light brown curls falling against his forehead every time he thrusted inside of you.

"Fuck..." You moaned. He was so unbelievable hot. "Oh, God" Remus took your cheeks with his hand and forced you to look at him, with that smirk of his that let you know he was looking for trouble.

"Yeah? This good, baby?" But he knew he didn't even need to ask, because the lewd sounds your pussy made every time he fucked you was enough, you wanted to think no one has ever been this wet before so he would think twice before letting you go "You can't talk, bunny? Did I fucked you dumb?"

"Fuck, you'resohot"

You moaned as fast as you could articulate the words. Remus just laughed at you and kept his movements, throwing himself next to you when your pussy was already full.

"I love filling you up, bunny"

And you smiled stupidly "Never have to worry about using condoms with me..." You stood up with your arm, looking at his dreamy face with his eyes closed "I just love to be filled up"

He smiles and takes a deep breath; "You're the best" He says while standing up from your comfortable bed, leaving you all whinny and pouty "I have to go. I'm late for work" He kisses your forehead and you loose yourself in your mind for a moment, because if this is just sex, why would he share such an intimate kiss with you.

Yeah, a forehead kiss was way more intimate than sex. You could have sex with anyone, it didn't mean anything, sex was just a way to fee our passion. But a forehead kiss, it was a sign of protection and love, it was a way to keep the words inside your mouth while saying at the same time: "I care about you". So why would he kiss you and then just call you only for sex "I'll be back later, that good?" You nod "Or you could go to my apartment. Whatever suits you best"

You nod again and he smiles, this time kissing your lips and finally walking away. He couldn't love you, not like you do love him at least.

It was easy to have sex at Remus' apartment. He would never kick you out, he was too much of a gentleman for that, and if he was in a rush to go at least he would invite you to have breakfast somewhere near where he worked.

You didn't know where it was, what he does, you just know every time he takes you out for food is near the place he works. Then he gives you money for an Uber because is just faster than him taking you all the way there.

And it wasn't like you two were in a relationship either. Lately he allowed you to stay at his place, you thought it was another way of intimacy as well, the soft lip kisses, the forehead kisses and the fact that the receptionist from his building knew you were allow to have the spare key.

So when you say; Sex at Remus' is better. What you really mean is, kitchen sex, bathroom sex, couch sex, hell, even the balcony sex was amazing. Things you couldn't do with roommates but you could definitely do at his apartment.

You wasted no time on taking your clothes off as soon as you heard the door being open, you walked to the kitchen, because well, you felt like doing it on the kitchen.

Remus looks at you once he's finally in and hugs you.

A hug? What were you, a couple? You wish.

"Hi, angel"

He says, and before you could respond he turns your body around so your ass could be against his growing erection. His hands start to work their way through your pussy and his other hand goes straight to your boobs. Because of course they will.

"How was work?"

You ask, knowing there was not going to be an answer. Because Remus and you don't have that kind of relationship. Instead he shushes you with a passionate kiss, leaning you over the kitchen counter and you think a little about how beautiful and clean his kitchen is, you could see yourself living here, really.

Being his pretty housewife, you would even wear an apron with no other clothes above. Yeah, that's exactly the life you picture yourself living, and it didn't seem bad for a bit.

A spank brings you back to reality and Remus takes your leg, you really don't know when he took his trousers off but he was working his way into your already wet pussy.

"You seem a bit distracted..." He comments after starting to move his hips, you respond with a moan, holding yourself to the counter, starting to beg for him to go faster "Just like that, angel. That's how I like my girl, all loud and messy"

He's just thrusting inside of you, you know that, but he holds your hips in such a way that you need to establish yourself. Anyone could do that but, God, not anyone could make it feel like Remus does.

"You wanna say something, baby?" He asks when you start to moan louder. Remus also loved sex at his place, because you were loud and shameless.

Your boobs were jumping against the counter while Remus hand lied now on your back, forcing your cheek against the cold marble.

His thrusts were faster and he had both of your hands against your back held with one of his hands while the other one was trying to make you wetter, as if that was even possible.

You don't even try to think anymore, anything Remus' wanted he would force your body to do, allowing you to just relax and enjoy the pleasure.

"Can you cum for me, pretty girl?" You moan "Can you, angel? My angel?" He mocks.

Every one of his thrusts made your mind simply blow as he fucked you. He freed your hands wasting no time on holding your body up, your back against his chest, angrily taking your face and forcing you to look at him.

"You just look so pretty" He says, smiling "I just need one kiss" And your eyes are glossy from the pleasure and your mind can't catch orders but it doesn't matter. Remus takes your face so your lips can impact against his "Ow, my pretty girl. I know you're long gone. That's fine, I'll take care of you. Just cum for me, alright?" His pace became sloppier and lazy as he felt his orgasm building "What has gotten into you, hum? I usually take a few more out of you before you're like this"

Remus only allowed himself to really groan only when he emptied his load inside of your wet pussy, filling you way more in one orgasm that many of your ex-lovers.

The good thing about Remus is that he may finish first, but he always makes you have the best time. There was two ways it could go, he obliged himself to last long, or he would succumb to his needs, either way he never let you down that easily.

He could go for hours if he wanted, and in your short sex-relationship you've done it against any surface belonging to his home, he made you cum multiple times and he made sure you could see the moon and the starts before cleaning you up to a good sleep.

However, Remus doesn't want to push you too far today, seeing the sensitive space you were now, crying every time he tried to stop this to check on you, poor boy, he was so worried. He didn't know you only wanted to please him.

Remus pulls out of you quickly, and before you could complain his fingers are filling your cum loaded pussy up. He makes you scream with the ferocity he moves them in and out of you, hitting all the right spots, making your back arch against his chest, and if it wasn't for his strong hand holding you, you would've collapsed against the floor.

You moan, loudly and shamelessly, just how Remus liked it. Your head falls into his shoulder and you look exhausted, but Remus can't let you go like this, not without an orgasm at least.

"Remus, Remus please stop, stop that's too much, too much" Your pleads don't seem to make much to him while his lips kiss your temple. "Please, please"

But; please, what?

"You can do it, angel" He says.

You feel a bit dizzy as the pleasure hugs your body completely, forgetting you're still on earth, on Remus' kitchen to be exact. It's an overwhelming sensation it doesn't even feel real but you don't want to stop it, neither do you have the energy to do so.

You feel Remus smirking against your scalp after chuckling at, you? You find the reminds of your energy and autonomy to force your eyes open. You feel Remus' cock hard again against your lower back. The fingers that were once inside you are now in front of your sight, and you open your mouth, hearing Remus' praise as you lick his long, thick fingers.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever done" He says, kissing your head again "You are the hottest thing I've done" He chuckles.

"What?" you mumble against his fingers. Tiredly leaning against Remus, knowing you didn't had it in you to stand.

"The squirt, angel" He pouts, mocking your expression "You didn't notice?" No? Well, you felt wetter than other times once you reached your orgasm, but you would have known. You lazily direct your eyes to the floor, watching the soaked drawers and the white floor shining more than it usually does.

"I soaked your kitchen" You pout and Remus does too, smiling a seconds later at you.

"Yeah, we'll get them change, angel. Don't worry" Who's we "You didn't realized you squirted?" You frown, not at the last question but who the fuck was we? "Guess I'll have to do it again, hun? But tonight it's time for a shower"

A shower sounded good, you wanted lots of showers at Remus place. You wanted Remus bed, you wanted your toothbrush next to him and his half-empty cabinets full of your stuff.

By the time you woke up Remus wasn't there. As usual since he got confident enough to let you alone at his apartment. You knew he kissed you goodbye, you felt it like a fever dream all the time, a sensation enough to be felt but not strong enough to wake you up to reality.

You saw Remus' wallet in the bed-side table, personally, you knew better than check it and try to return it to him, at his job, where he doesn't want you. But again, you were delusional, and wouldn't a girlfriend do that job? You had sex with him, you were just one step far from being.

"A pediatrician" You say as soon as you see his card "You have to be fucking kidding me"

Because not only Remus Lupin was tall, handsome, with a stable economy to start a family or take care of the house for you to live comfortable enough, incredible good at sex, he was also good with kids.

And you could've live it there, you found out something, doesn't mean you have to see it with your own eyes.

That's why you were definitely not walking to his job. And by the time you could think better of it you were already knocking on the yellow door with a silver plate scripted with "Dr. Lupin".

"Hey, Y/N?" He says as soon as he sees your small figure – but compared to him who wouldn't be –. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot your wallet" You say, extending the leather square to him, and he smiled softly.

"Thank you, Y/N"

You couldn't help but feel disappointment, because alone you were never Y/N. You were his angel, his pretty girl, his baby. And now you were just, ugh, you never hated your name more.

"Um, this is... your job. Cool, cool, cool"

"It's just a job" He chuckles "I don't want you to feel different about anything, alright?" He again kisses your forehead "See you tonight?"

"Yeah, sure" You quickly answer "I was thinking maybe we could... You know, go out?"

"Sure, go out"

"Like, like in a date" You dig deeper into your words "Like people who, you know, like each other?"

"Oh, Y/N" He says. And he says it with such pity you want to cry and disappear and erase this moment from your memory. "I don't like relationships. They're not my thing. I told you this"

He did "Yes, but..." I just thought I could make you change your mind. But you don't say that "But I like you, I thought it would be fun"

Fun? You thought it would be amazing, you thought it would be Cornelia Street except it would just be the place he'll take you out for dinner. You thought it would be Begin Again but this was The Story of Us and Happiness all over again in your love life.

"Sorry"

You bite your lip trying to hold the tears and nod. Excusing yourself from his consulting room and walking the worst walk of shame, trying to hide your face from literal toddlers and their moms.

Already planning in your mind how you would drown yourself in misery. And how you would get the strength to ignore Remus' calls, if he calls.

Trying to scape Remus was really similar to that movie, Mission Impossible, the one with Tom Cruise. Because who would tell that getting sexually involve with someone who's not directly in your friend group, but knows many of your friends, would be a bad idea?

Definitely no one.

"Y/N?"

You panic when you hear that velvet voice, so calm and with just the right amount of happiness he always sounds. You look at him, completely frozen and your legs start walking the opposite direction without you realizing it.

Marlene stops you the moment he sees you, watching Remus walk to you and you escaping like a little kid would do when they did something bad.

"What's wrong?"

You push her into the closet and nock the two of you inside, shushing her the moment she opens her mouth and the blonde woman can't be any more confused and regretting her life, because she didn't want to ever, ever, get involved with Remus romantic life, and here she was.

"Y/N? Listen, I know you're here. I'm sorry, right? I'm only here because I knew you would be here. This is totally not my thing..."

"He's lying" Marlene says, a playful grin on her face "Men are such liars, angel. Don't listen to him"

You frown at the pet-name and look at the door.

"Hi, Marlene" He says.

"Hi, Remus"

"Y/N?" you pout and look at your friend. She just shrugs and begs for you to let her go, and you finally open the door to see Remus handsome face, his hair messy for a doctor and his face recently shaved.

"Don't do this, Remus" You plead, watching as Marlene walks away with a thumbs up not sure if it's for him or you. "You can't come back now thinking i will be just waiting for you, you know?"

"No, I really want to be with you" He chuckles but your lower lip jolts.

"I don't want to be your sex toy, Remus" in a really low voice, and if he wasn't so obsessed with you he would never hear it "I'm sorry, it's late"

"Well, I had to try at least" He smiles and walks closer to you, kissing your forehead "I'm really sorry it took me so long to realize that I... like you too"

"Don't do that. You're trying to play with my head" You say, getting defensive of the kicked puppy look he was giving you "Well, you need to fuck me first for you to accomplish that"

This time you say it loud, and the whole party seemed to stay silent for that bit, Remus felt his cheeks turning pink, and he didn't know why, clearly he was the one who fucked the most among his friends.

He was in med school, for God sakes. You don't make it out of there sane without tons of sex.

"Angel, can we talk in private?"

"No" You yell in a low voice "No, Remus, we can't. And you can't call me that either. What am I supposed to think? That out of nowhere you want a serious relationship now? With me? That you want to make it work?"

Remus feels the need to stop your verbal vomit with a kiss, and he does, because it feels like the right time, the building up to a big romantic moment the girls always want. But not in the context where you were standing.

A kiss like that felt sexual. It didn't feel intimate and tender as a forehead kiss, it felt desperate, hungry, he wanted your body more than he wanted you.

"Please, leave me alone"

You murmur, pushing him away from you and trying to walk out of his sight but you can't, your heart doesn't allow it, you want to be with him. He broke your heart so this shouldn't be this hard but it was.

He stood there, not moving, just waiting for you to do something, not wanting to leave you alone but also wanting to respect your space, and your wishes.

You look at him in defeat, crossing your arms and he smiles. Your legs make their way to him again and you stand in front of him, impossibly tall, impossibly handsome, just him.

"You like me?" He nods, not sure of what to say "Like really, really like me?"

"I'm utterly obsessed with you"

"Then kiss me"

You murmur, and he's not sure if he should because the last one ended with you mad at him but you were there, looking so pretty, shiny eyes due to the tears and the lights of the party giving you a different aura from the one he always sees you under. He takes your face and kisses your lips, it's the same kiss as the last one but he doesn't feel sure. He feels scared that he may ruin this and that you would run away from him and that somehow makes you feel sure of your choice.

Remus lets you rest your head on his chest and you turn your face to look at him, he smiles and kisses your forehead while hugging you even harder right now than he usually does after sex.

"Thank you?" You chuckle and you nod, making fun of him for the first time "Don't laugh at me, you little vicious angel"

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by formula1, olliebearman, mckennagraceful and 80,944 others

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user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

liked by aubreyyang

-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

oh

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

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