#do not feel like you need to match the length lmao

[mambosfive]

@stapcs ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

she played her part well –– she had done for as long as she could remember. rita was just a simple bar manager, or so the world was meant to believe. granted, mambo number five was in a category of its own when it came to the sorts of services you could find there. winding corridors, private rooms, all hidden away from the general club atmosphere that most visitors to the bar came to know. you had to know where to look, when it came to mambo's.

granted, it was rita's office that held the most secrets. plans hidden with books, others right in plain sight, the details of some of most notorious crime' in the city right in the place where they were thought up –– not that she got any of the credit. perhaps she liked it that way. gave her more time to think.

but this wasn't a thinking day for rita. no, this was a playing the part day, spent on the floor of the club, overseeing tasks such as inventory, as any unsuspecting patron might expect at this time of the day. it was quiet, only a couple of staff, with a few of their well known customers slinking off to back rooms, either to meet with one of their dancers or engage in some other sort of illegal activity. the deals made within those walls were enough to make your toes curl. she didn't like to think on how many breaking news stories had started right where she stood.

"can i help you?" she asked, clipboard coming to rest on top of the bar surface in front of her. "i hope you don't mind me asking, we're just in the middle of a bit of a clear out, so you might not get the five star service you might have heard about." a charming smile and a laugh followed, in true rita style. she'd perfected that, over the years. "i don't think i've seen you in here before. first time visiting mambo's? we're a lot more lively in the night time, i can assure you."

[fyrewalks]

It's a bad idea, he thinks when he catches Hangman's eye across the Hard Deck and there's a sparkle of something more. It's a bad idea, he thinks when they're quiet in the backseat of the uber, neither wanting to ruin the anticipation with pointless small talk. It's a bad idea, he thinks when his fingers start on the buttons of Seresin's annoyingly tight button-up once safely inside his temporary accommodation - except then Seresin's, Jake's, tongue is down his throat, and really, Bob isn't thinking at all, anymore.

As he's lying there, sweaty and sated, half drowsing, Jake's arm across his belly like he simply forgot Bob's there and is too tired to adjust, it's easy to rationalize the gravity of the situation away. Tomorrow, they'll all scatter back to their postings as if the detachment never happened. He'll go back to the Eagles, Jake to the Vigilantes; they didn't cross paths before at Lemoore, and there's no reason for them to now.

Bob is no stranger to one-night stands, temporary bits of fun. He knows the routine, but when caught attempting to make a quiet exit the next morning, he can't muster up the usual excuses or goodbyes. What's he supposed to say - thanks for the fuck, see you never?

Except, as it turns out, whatever rational thinking he employed that night, wasn't all that thought out. Back with the Eagles, it's harder to avoid Hangman than he assumed. Bob dodges him in hangars, at bars and hangouts Nat dutifully drags him out to. He absolutely does not think about how Jake kisses, or moves, or the way he tastes. Absolutely not. And just when Bob thinks he's got a handle on the worst of his intrusive, betraying thoughts, the orders come - they're all being recalled to Top Gun for the official formation of the Dagger Squad in a month's time.

A week into tense briefings, all of them frustrated and annoyed by the endless paperwork and ground time, Bob thinks himself foolish to think he struggled at all in Lemoore. At least then, Hangman had given him a wide berth too. Now, often stuck in the same room for hours at a time, Hangman's usual taunts feel sharper. If anyone's caught on to how he's singled Bob out, no one voices their suspicions. At one point he worries Natasha's caught on to something, but when she raises her eyebrows at Bob, he mutters something about Hangman being Hangman and that seems to satisfy any curiosity.

And then, Bob has the misfortune of finding himself alone in the locker room after a few miles on the treadmill. If the way Hangman corners him is any indication, he'd guess it's purposeful. Bob very carefully keeps his eyes on the next set of lockers, just to the right of Hangman's face.

"What - miss an insult or two in the classroom," he snarks, surprising himself. Admittedly, it's a little easier when Natasha is in the cockpit with him. Bob takes a breath, his eyes flicking to Hangman's eyes, his lips. Bob refocuses his gaze. "Don't you think it's a little obvious?" If it's not curiosity, it'll be a joke - one that skirts too close to the truth. After all, navy pilots are known for their crude humor. Bob knows himself; he'll struggle to shrug it off. // @a1truist

[aerynwrites]

It's About The Chase

Halsin x Fem!Reader

A/N: FINALLY finished this halsin pic I've been working on for the past like month lmao. a huge shout out to @princessbatears @hdlynnslibraryand @maybegefor being the pushes I needed to finish it! I hope you all enjoy! <3

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT! Hunter/Prey Kink, halsin is chasing reader through the forest lol, P in V sex, cream pie, cock warming, marking, biting, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, slight aftercare, cuddling.

Summary: You and Halsin have been together for sometime now, so when Halsin approaches you and asks you to partake in a Ritual custom of his people to further your relationship...who are you to deny him?

Orange embers add to the number of stars in the night sky before flickering out of existence against the blanket of night.

The fire roars fierce before you; orange, yellow, and red tangling together in a dangerous dance to the euphony of songs around you.  Your heart races, blood thrumming through your veins like a raging river.  The heat from the flames only adds to the heat bubbling beneath your skin, making the fingers dragging across its surface seem startlingly cool in contrast. 

You look down at your friend, Avella, as she drags her fingers down the length of your arm in mesmerizing patterns, leaving a shimmering trail of golden paint in their wake. You watch in fascination as the liquid coats her finger tips, dripping in a glimmering trail down the back of her hand before she moves to retrieve more from the bowl at her feet. 

You’ve only ever bared witness to this ritual once, Halsin wanting you to see it before committing to it with him, and while you remember it being just as intriguing, it feels…different, now. 

Now that it’s happening to you. 

Avella, one of your closest friends, had helped you prepare for the ritual just earlier. The golden paths she is painting now, are a continuation of the ones that snake beneath the simple white dress adorning your body.  

You look across from you to see Halsin garnering the same treatment, except the paint adorning his skin is a crimson red, appropriately matching the tattoos inked into him. The only thing that separates you from one another are the flames, making him flicker in and out of view as the fire laps at each new log added to it. 

But even from this distance you can see the way he looks at you. See the way his eyes darken with hunger. The way his shoulders tense and his fists clench from where they rest at his sides. 

He’s ready to pounce. A predator with his prey in sight but just out of reach. 

At least for now. 

You can feel your breathing speed up,  becoming shallow, chest rising and falling quicker as Avella finishes her artwork and the harmony of songs and drums alike come to a complete stop around you.

One of the elders, a druid you’ve only met on occasion, comes to stand in front of the fire, between you and Halsin. He speaks in an old language, one you don’t understand before slipping back into common. Yet, even then, the words do not reach you. 

The elder speaks eloquently about tonight's ritual, describing everything Halsin had already prepared you for. 

This ritual is a sacred one, that you know. Halsin, like many druids, believed that life, like nature, is a fluid thing. Not to be bound to one person or place or thing in one's life. Yet, this very practice seemed to contradict that very principle. You still had lingering questions, one that Halsin promised would be answered come the end of tonight. 

Because, by the end of the night you would be Halsin’s, and he would be yours. Completely and wholly, under the watchful eye of Silvanus himself, you and Halsin would become one with the natural world he holds so dear, cementing one another as an inseparable part of each other's existence. 

You only realize the elder had ended his prayers by the low blow of a horn, and the steady reverberation of the drums picking up once more. Your eyes dart from where you had been staring off, to your partner across the fire, his brows drawn in slight concern at your hesitance. 

That’s right…you must run. 

And so you do.

Turning on your heel, you take off into the forest behind you, the moss and fallen leaves surprisingly springy beneath your bare feet as you dash deeper into the trees embrace. 

The singing grows louder behind you at the start of your retreat, but as you put distance between yourself and the others, the sounds grow softer, quieter – muffled by nature until the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, the blood rushing in your ears, and the rustle of foliage beneath your feet. 

Only then do you pause, not knowing how far you’ve gone or where you’re even going. It’s then that Halsin’s words echo in your mind, your eyes slipping close as you try to reign in in your excitement, your panic. 

“You mustn’t let your mind get the better of you. It will be dark, unfamiliar, but you know where to go. Find the tree.”

You wring your hands together nervously, worry evident in your features. “What if I can’t find it? What if – what if I fail?”

Halsin smiles softly, reaching out to take your hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

“You will not fail. Even if you cannot find the tree…the oak father will guide you.”

With a deep breath, you open your eyes once more, taking in your surroundings as quickly, but as efficiently as possible. Halsin was right, this place is utterly unfamiliar to you. A forest he’s lived in for most of his life, yet you have never truly seen before. Yet another advantage in his favor. 

Another breath. 

He believes in you, he trusts you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, with one last steadying breath you turn slowly in place – listening, looking, feeling…until you see it. 

It would have been almost impossible to see just moments ago, dark clouds shrouding the moon’s light. But just as you turn, there is a break in the sky, the celestial light making the silvery underbellies of oak leaves that sprout from branches that tower above the rest, glint at you.

“The heart of the forest. That is your goal,” Halsin’s voice rings in your ears again. 

You smile, heart leaping with triumph as you take off at a sprint once more, all while sending up a silent prayer to Silvanus for guiding your way. 

– – – – – – – – – – 

Despite seeming to know the way you need to go, you continuously doubt yourself. The forest all looks the same, the trees too similar, the sounds never changing, and it feels like you’ve not made any progress towards the heart of the forest. 

The branches whip past you, brushing against your face and arms, surely leaving behind evidence of their assault, but you couldn’t care less. Despite the rush of anxiety and primal flight coursing through you, there’s also...a thrill. A thrill like you’ve never felt before. A thrill that makes you giddy as you continue your race. And it only seems to intensify as you hear the distance sounds of a pursuer in the distance. 

The chase has begun.

Without thought, you move faster. Feet digging into the earth beneath you, arms pumping faster, breathing harder. You will succeed. You will not fail. Not tonight.

And once again, as if the Oak Father himself heard your earlier prayers, the forest around you changes for what feels like the first time. Endless trees give way to a small clearing; an iridescent, bubbling stream running through it, separating you from more forest on the other side. 

You come to a pause at the stream's edge, mind racing with what to do. But each second matters. Each breath matters. 

One. 

Your mind races with information that Halsin has told you about his hunts. 

Two.

A branch cracks in the distance as your eyes scan the water. 

Three.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the stream, the water splashing around your ankles. 

Four. 

Tracks…you have to leave tracks. 

Five.

The mud squishes between your toes as you emerge on the other side of the river. One step, another, and another -

Six. 

You hear footsteps now, clear as day as the massive bulk of your partner crashes through the woods. 

Seven. 

Quickly, you dart back into the stream, rushing in the opposite direction of the heart of the forest before moving to crouch behind a large boulder in the water, your dress tugging at you with the movement of the current. 

Eight.

This breath you don’t release, as Halsin burst from the tree line, pausing at the edge of the stream just as you had. 

You watch silently, blood rushing in your ears as you peer around the edge of your hiding place. Halsin is breathing just as hard as you were, and even from here you can see the sheen of sweat adoring his skin, the moonlight reflecting off him. His eyes scan the water before they pause. Quickly, he makes his way through the water, kneeling on the other side where you exited the water. He follows them with his gaze carefully until they disappear back into the water in the opposite direction. From this distance, you can’t be sure, but you think you catch him smiling. 

“Using the water to hide your tracks…” his voice is almost lost to the bubbling stream, but you manage to hear him. “Clever, girl.”

His words send a pang of arousal through you, and you have to cling to the boulder to fight the urge to reveal yourself, but you manage. You stay in place and watch as Halsin stands to his full height once more and takes off jogging upstream, until he’s out of sight within the trees. 

You wait a few moments longer, and then just a moment more before leaving your hiding place and darting out of the water and back into the forest’s sanctuary. You see the towering top of the sacred tree, closer now than you ever hoped, and you know - you know, you’re going to make it. 

And you do. 

Somehow this last push to the end feels quicker than the rest. The forest doesn’t feel endless, time doesn’t feel like it’s dragging on. In fact, the closer you get, it feels as if a warmth flows through you, a calm you haven’t felt since the night started. And as if on cue, you burst from the trees once more into an awe-inspiring sanctuary. 

You understand now, why this place is called the heart of the forest - a huge clearing cut naturally in the middle of this vast place. The air is cooler here, a light breeze rustling the fabric of your simple gown as you come to a stop at the edge of the trees, your breath coming in quick deep breaths as you are finally able to stop running. If just for a moment. 

Your eyes trail over the space, catching instantly on the fireflies dancing through the air, blinking in and out of existence as they fly. With slow reverent steps, you make your way closer to your goal, standing tall and unmoving at the center of the clearing. 

The Sacred Tree. 

It stands silhouetted against the night sky, a looming presence that towers hundreds of feet above you, its base thick and imposing as roots sprawl out in a vast network from its center. 

With as much care and reverence you are able, you pick your way over the roots, trying to memorize every detail of this magnificent place. After a moment you even notice another stream bubbling steadily into a small pool at the base of the tree, sparkling with moonlight and calling to you. 

Soon, you kneel next to the pool, hands dipping into the water, dissipating your reflection on the surface. You lean down, bringing your cupped hands up to your lips as you take small sips. You nearly moan at the cool liquid cascading over your tongue, quenching the intense thirst you didn’t even know you had. It even tastes…sweet, like fresh honeysuckles in spring, or the faint sweetness of honeydew. 

You stay at the edge of the pool for a long few moments, taking slow sips and deep breaths before finally standing back to your feet. As you do, your eyes trail over yourself, astonished to find that the paint adorning you has stayed intact, not even the dirt or branches rubbing it off.  

Your dress is another matter however, the garment showing clear evidence of your traipse through the woods. Tugging at the hem of the piece of cloth, you send a small smile to the tree above you. 

“I suppose it’s a reasonable sacrifice, a dress for…”

For what exactly?

While Halsin had told you the basics of the ritual, and the things that were to come, you can’t help but feel like you still don't understand the cultural importance of this sacred rite. 

And you don’t have time to wonder, for just as you step closer to the tree, the world around you spins uncontrollably as familiar strong arms wrap around you and rough bark meets your back as you are pressed up against the imposing trunk. 

You didn’t even hear him approach, his steps surprisingly silent for a man of his size. But he’s here now - he’s here and wasting no time as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you wherever he can. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he presses you further into the tree behind you, fisting the delicate white fabric of your dress in his need to get impossibly closer to you.

“Halsin-” his name leaves your lips in a gasp, barely able to pull away from him before he’s dominating you once more. 

Your mind cannot even keep pace with what’s happening, Halsin’s presence cutting off any and all logical thought you may have. The only reprieve you get is when his lips leave your own only to leave a trail of messy kiss down your jaw and lower, one of his hands sliding up to cradle your jaw and expose the line of your neck to him as he continues to explore you. 

Blunt teeth nip at the delicate skin of your neck and you can’t stop the whimper that slips past your lips, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he continues his assault. You’re so absorbed in him, in the way he presses against you and mouths at your skin that you don’t even notice his hands as they move to take hold of the gauzy neckline of your dress.

You’re only able to utter a gasp of his name as he tears the thin fabric clean down the center. The threads rip easily under his grip, snapping and popping until it hands In tatter remains on your shoulders. You’re barely able to take in another breath, before calloused palms cradle your cheeks, and for the first time since he’s found you are you able to truly see him.

The sight nearly takes you to your knees. 

He towers over you, pupils blown wide with lust as he drinks you in. His shoulders heave with labored breaths, sweat damp skin glistening in the light of the moon. He looks like a god, cut and carved from stone before you. 

Halsin has always been an attentive lover, and at times you would even describe him as tame. Always doting on you, putting your pleasure first and handling you with the delicacy of a newly blossoming rose petal.

Not now. 

The man that stands before you, clutching you in his hands, fingers pressing into the base of your skull, is nothing more than the beast he always tries to contain. yet, even now you can sense a moment of hesitation in him, restraint. A moment you know won’t last - nor do you want it too. 

“I’ve found you, my heart,” he says, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. “I’ve found you, and I intend to make you mine. Wholly and completely with no one but Silvanus as witness and I…I cannot promise gentleness. Not tonight.”

He didn’t ask, not out right - but you know he’s asking. As much as he wants this - wants you - you know he would back down if you so much as hesitated. He would take his hands from you and walk away and never hold any ill-intent towards you. 

But you want this. You want this more than you ever could have imagined. Halsin unrestrained and untempered…

You want him to devour you.

You nod resolutely, hands sliding up his arms to rest upon his wrists. 

“You’ve found me,” you tell him, voice but a whisper as you squeeze his wrists, inviting him imperceptibly closer. “So, claim your prize.”

The only response Halsin offers is a growl as he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours in a mess of teeth and tongue and you don’t dare refuse him when he pushes past the seam of your lips to explore you further. 

Halsin makes quick work of the remnants of your dress, tugging the tattered fabric from your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Once free from it, you reach up and cling to his shoulders as he divests himself of his own clothing before his hands come to grip at your thighs lifting you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. 

From this position, you can feel the heat of him against your inner thigh, hard and just as eager as you are. A fact he is more than aware of as he brushes up against you, groaning into your mouth as he feels your wetness against him. 

“I knew you would be ready for me,” Halsin says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves to press faint kisses to the skin there. “I could smell you even back at the stream.”

You pause at his words, surprise coloring your pleasure and Halsin laughs, breath warm against your sweat damp skin. 

“Oh, yes,” he whispers, “I knew you were there. placing fake tracks, hiding…”

He presses you further back into the tree, the bark bringing a pleasant sting of pain to the pleasure building in your belly as he lines himself up. 

“Why…” you trail off, words choked out into a whimper as he finally - finally - presses into you, inch by agonizing inch.

Halsin lets out sinful sounds of his own, grunts and sighs that make you quiver in his hold as he continues to fill you until his hips are flush against you own and you feel so full that you might burst. 

“Because,” he breaths, nipping quickly at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, “It’s about the chase. The hunter and his prey-” he grinds his hips into you, eliciting a moan from you that would have made yo blush in any other circumstance. “It’s the catch that makes it worth it.”

Halsin emphasizes his words with one swift movement, pulling out of you before thrusting forward to the hilt once more, as stars burst behind your eyelids. No more words are said as he sets a devastating pace. Anything you do try to say slipping from your mind like warm honey as he drives into you. 

With Halsin, there’s usually build up. He’s a man who loves to play with you, wring out your pleasure in the most torturously pleasurable way he knows how. Tonight, however, there is none of that. And you thank the gods above that you found the chase itself so exhilarating, because even with how ready you were, how eager you are for him - the size of him is bordering on overwhelming. 

Yet you can’t find it in you to truly care. 

All you can do is clutch helplessly at his shoulders and back, nails digging into taut skin as your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to pull him even deeper inside you. 

It feels as if he just started touching you and you can already feel that familiar tug deep in your belly, arousal burning bright as he continues his furious pace. But you also notice a falter in his rhythm, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you assume his own end approaches. 

“Halsin-” his name falls from your lips in a whimper, hands moving to tangle in his hair as he comes back up to claim your lips once more. 

You expect him to acknowledge your silent plea or agree and tell you he’s close too, but you should know to not expect anything tonight. instead, your surroundings blur around you. Your back leaves the rough bark of the tree in a blink and soon, up becomes down and cool moss meets your knees as warm hands meet your back and before you can even take another breath Halsin has you on your hands and knees before him as he presses into you once more. 

You can’t stop the cry that falls from your lips, this position letting Halsin even deeper into you, allowing him to touch places that make it feel like magma runs through your veins. 

“Oh, gods…”  you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers dig helplessly into the soft ground beneath you. 

“No,” Halsin growls, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as he moves to lean over you, surrounding you in him. “There are no gods here, not now.”

His words and the combination of his cock buried so deep inside you at this new angle catapults you over the edge. You come with a cry of Halsin’s name on your tongue. 

Your lover helps you through your high, his thrusts growing more erratic until he too finishes with animalistic grunts as he spills himself inside of you. 

You still struggle for air beneath him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm, that it takes you a moment too long to realize that warm hands are tugging at your hips. A small whine slips past your lips when Halsin pulls himself from you, and it’s then as he rolls you onto your back and leans down to capture your lips in a much more tender kiss than before, that you realize he’s still hard. His release doing nothing to satiate the need coursing through him. 

“I love you, my heart,” Halsin says as he pulls away from you to nose at your temple. “You have given me a gift, this night - a gift I do not think I will ever have words enough to repay you.”

Then, for the first time tonight do you truly seem him. He’s pull away from you slightly, just enough so he is able to look upon your face, and you can seem him clearly. His eyes glisten with emotion, vulnerability and utter devotion swimming in pools of hazel. You take this instant to take your lover in, commit this reverent moment to memory as your eyes flit over his face and lower. From the scars cutting through his brow to his tousled hair. To the paint that adorns him - the paint that now lies muddled against his bronze skin, red mixing with your gold. A visual representation to anyone who sees that you two are bound to one another. 

Your hands slide up his arms, fingers dancing across his shoulder before finally coming to cradle his face - your heart fluttering when he leans into your touch. 

“Then show me,” you whisper, puling him into another searing kiss.

His lips are hot against your own, yet despite the sureness of his movements there’s just a hint of tenderness there. A familiar warmth that encompasses you as he touches you once more. 

His hands are firm against your skin, squeezing and gripping and pulling you tighter to him, but gone is the pure urgency that was just moments ago.  Halsin is all consuming - he always is - but now it’s as if he is taking up every part of your existence. 

Solid arms wrap around you, holding you to him as he slots himself in the cradle of your hips. The familiar scent of him seems to envelop you whole as he presses himself further against you - sandalwood, sage and  moist earth after a spring rain. He breaks away from your lips only to nose at your temple, and you take this moment to breath him in, your hands sliding up his back in an effort to pull him closer. 

Halsin sighs against you, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he shifts his hips, pressing into you once more. He moves to kiss you once again as you take him, swallowing the moans that bubble from your chest until his hips meet yours.

He stops, then, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your own, as he allows you both pauses to bask in one another completely. You, for one, are grateful for the small reprieve, the moment becoming completely overwhelming in a new way. 

You and Halsin have lain together more times than you’re able to count, each time never ceasing to take you to new heights, but this…this feels as if you’re seeing him for the first time - being with him for the first time. 

He holds you to him in a reverence you never thought possible from a man, cradling you with a delicacy that makes your chest tight with emotion. He presses featherlight kisses to your brow and then your lips once more before he finally moves. 

And it’s as if the heavens open up above you. 

Ecstasy burns through your veins with each push and pull of his hips, as if you can feel every vein and ridge of him inside you. He sets a steady pace, but nothing like the hurried fucking he gave you earlier. No…this was slower, more measured, as if he never wants this night to end. 

“I love you.”

The words are a mere whisper against your cheek as Halsin moves, his hips pressing deep into you forcing you into the soft moss beneath you as he tries to mold himself further into you. 

“I love you, my heart,” he says again, voice strained. “I have never felt…” he trails off voice going soft before he picks up again. “I am bound to you, body and soul. And by the Oak Fathers grace I will never be parted from you. Not if…If you’ll have me.”

His words make your heart flutter, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn your head to look at him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair once more. 

“I would have no one else,” you tell him solemnly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”

At your acceptance, your reciprocation of his vow, Halsin shudders in pleasure above you. With one arm still wrapped snugly around you, his other hand trails down, over your hip coming to rest at the back of your knee only to tug it quickly over his hip, changing the angle and allowing him to slide deeper inside you. 

The cry that falls from your lips in nothing short of erotic, his name falling from your lips in a jumbled prayer as his pace speeds up, bring you both closer to the climax you feel burning in your belly. 

Gone are the sounds of nature that greeted you when you first entered this sacred place. Now the only sounds that meet your ears are your lovers groans of pleasure in your ear and the blood raring in your veins. His skin slides against your own, damp with sweat and swirled in gold and red as the paint so delicately applied to you both now mixes together. 

Halsin’s thrusts become erratic, and a wave of golden light washes over him as he ruts against you. He pulls your hips closer to him, and you wrap your legs around him obediently as the hand that was supporting you comes up to cup your jaw, titling your head up and away, presenting the delicate expanse of your throat to him.

You catch the familiar flash of druidic magic in his eyes through your lashes, and you know he’s fighting the beast, holding it back as he lowers his head down, lips brushing the underside of your jaw as he thrusts into you again, harsher this time. 

“You are mine,” he growls, voice octaves lower than his usual deep timbre. 

“Yours,” You relent, voice a whispered plea into the night air. 

The only warning you receive is another harsh thrust of his hips, this one making him reach so deep inside of you that you see stars as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, breaking skin and sending you to another plane of euphoria you’ve never experienced before. Moans and cry of pleasure spill from your lips as you come, nearly sobbing as Halsin follows you over the precipice once again, pressing himself into you fully as he fills you. 

With ears ringing and heart racing, you almost don’t hear the soft call of your name, Halsin’s lips placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and lips, drawing you closer to coherency as gently as he can. 

He has not separated from you - the forest floor still at your back as he presses his weight comfortingly against your front, brushing errant strands of hair from your face.

“I love you,” you finally say, voice raw. 

When you speak, Halsin lifts himself from you slightly, bringing one hadn’t up to stroke at your hair affectionately, eyes brimming with emotions you can’t yet place. 

“And I you,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. 

After a few quiet moments, Halsin takes you into his arms once more and rolls so he is on his back with you resting against his chest, never separating himself from you in the process. 

His heart beats strong beneath your ear, his chest rising and falling in long even breaths, and if it weren’t for his fingers tracing patterns up and down your spine, you’d think he’d fallen asleep. 

Neither of you speak for a long while, using the silence to bask in one another’s presence, your mind still reeling from your experience. the silence is only broken when you hear the faint call of song birds and you see the barely there streaks of grey tinting the horizon beyond the trees. 

You sit up turning your head and wincing at the tinge of pain that accompanies the movement. a hand comes up to touch the spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your suddenly reminded of the mark Halsin left behind. 

His hand comes up to cover your own, calloused fingertips tracing over the bite gently, and you look down to see concern tugging as his brow. 

“I’m sorry, my heart, I lost myself-”

“Will it scar?” You cut him off, turning your hand to lace your fingers with his own. 

Halsin pauses at your question, lips tugging downward. “I can make sure it will not-”

You shake your head, leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, pulling back to stare into familiar hazel eyes. 

“Don’t.” you say. “Leave it. I…like the idea of it. But I…” you trail off, your courage waning. 

Halsin’s other hand comes up to card through your hair, urging you to face him again.

“Speak freely here,” he encourages. 

You nod, sliding one hand up to run your fingers over the spot on his neck that mirrors your own.

“I’d like you to bear a similar mark.”

Halsin smiles, pulling you down to him so your lips are a mere hairsbreadth away.

“You are mine just as much as I am yours, my heart.”

You smile.

You could get used to that. 

[hwanchaesong]

Of glasses and performances

a/n: writing this realquick for my pookie @yzzyhee really just a drabble buT IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS. kind of inspired by this post lmao ✌🏼💀 also hee looks so fucking good in specs tffff literally writing this before i sleep so yeah, pls ignore any mistakes

warnings & genre: idolbf!hee, afab!reader, smut smut smut, public sex, p in v raw etc etc lmao minors dni!!! not proofread ‼️(hee fucking u into oblivion backstage after seeing u in the crowd at his group's concert)

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You saw it. You fucking saw it.

Fighting for the front stage section of their concert is one thing. Obtaining the sexiest outfit to wear is the second thing. But seeing your oh so charming boyfriend up on the platform, performing his heart out and suddenly making eye-contact with him is just... doing things to you.

The blinding lights are not a hindrance for you to truly witness how majestic Lee Heeseung is.

Him in that black outfit, styled hair and that glasses is so fucking flawless. Then you watch him squat near the edge of the stage, his hazel orbs scanning the crowd and he makes eye-contact with you.

Time seemed to have stopped when you noticed a certain glint in his eyes, dark irises scanning your figure and you saw how he tried to hide his smirk, masking it as an expression befitting of their performance.

But you know that once you're hidden from the public, chaos will ensue.

And your instincts are always right.

Once the concert was over, you headed backstage but you were blocked by Heeseung, no words were needed as he dragged you near an empty hallway, making sure that no one is around before he does what he wants.

Pinning your wrists above your head with only one hand, he leans down and lets his breath fan all over your face as his other free hand settles itself on your hips, dangerously creeping inside your scanty dress, "Didn't think you'd wear an outfit that exposes too much skin, baby."

You examine his poorly wiped face, still sweaty probably because he hurried his way out to meet you in the middle instead of making himself more presentable, keen on keeping you alone for himself.

No worries though, he's attractive and gorgeous just the same. The messiness of his appearance just adds to the tingling that you're currently feeling.

"Well," you inclined your head to match the level of his lips, "can't blame me for wanting to look pretty for my very hardworking boyfriend."

That was the end of your short conversation with him, which you believe is the foreplay as you have now found yourself in a rather mind and body bending situation in public.

Hoisted and back flattened against the cemented, cold wall and your lovely dress is bunched up your waist. Panties ripped off and is now currently stashed in your boyfriend's pocket, which you assume he'll use in the future to relieve some frustrations when he's not with you.

Your moans reverberate across the abandoned hallway, music in Heeseung's ears as it triggers him to do more.

Faster, harder, and harsher.

The loud squelching of where the two of you are connected should have been embarrassing for you, but no fucks are given since Heeseung is already giving you all the fucking that you desire.

His thrusts are wild, relentless and undoubtedly, heavenly. The sole reason for each plunge is to send you into utopia.

You can feel his thick cock dragging on your insides, striking your cervix every time he goes in deep, the pulsating vein on the side of his length scratches your drench walls quite wonderfully, causing you to get wetter, probably creating a huge disarray down there.

One particular languid stroke had your back arching on the wall, legs wrapping securely around Heeseung's hips as he hit a delicate, spongy spot inside you.

Jackpot, he thinks, as your insides cling tighter to him like you do at the moment.

A string of curses left him when your nails rake at his nape, gently playing with his hair, eliciting a groan from him as the sensation is feathery yet sensual, a weakness of him that only you can bring out.

"Fuck baby," he rasps, concentrating at the sounds that you're making while he continuously rams into you, "you feel so fucking good. All for me yeah?"

You mewled his name desperately, the knot in your lower belly is getting ready to be snapped, "Yes Hee. I'm yours, all yours f-fuck, you own all of me."

Ah, the things you do to him. If you tried sitting in his brain then you'd be shocked by the images and thoughts that are filled with you, you, and you.

Some are fluffy but most are nasty though you are sure to love it. Of course you will, you're down bad for him just as he is for you.

He wasn't giving you any time to catch your breath as he wasted no time in kissing you, searing and hot, shoving his tongue down your throat that you couldn't help but to submit to him without much of a fight.

His tongue clashes with yours before exploring your mouth, the rhythm of the make-out session matches his pace perfectly, only detaching from you when the need for oxygen arises, leaving you gasping and flushed when a string of saliva

His bruising grip on your thighs loosened a bit as he used his left hand to slide the top of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He watches it bounce along with his thrusts for a solid minute before leaning down to capture a nipple.

Tongue flatting and hardening around your bud, circling and sucking while teasing a bit of nibbles, further adding onto the pleasure that you're receiving.

"A-ah! Heeseung, I-I'm-!" closing your eyes in rapture, tilting your head to the side to give access to your lover when he scoots his face in the crook of your neck, embellishing you with purple and blue spots.

"Close?" he whispers, licking the newly painted marks in his canvas called your skin. His peppery smooches snakes up, reaching your ears as he delicately bites your lobe, "Come for me then, baby. Don't hold back."

You moan loudly, one more. One more push and you're gone.

His palm traces the goosebumps on your thigh, and there it is, his deft fingers playing with your clit is all it took for you to gush all over him. A satisfied smirk on his kissable lips shows itself, then it turns into a sly one when he didn't slow down despite your pleading.

Begging him to take it easier since your high took a toll on your sensitivity, thus the overwhelming rapture that had you shaking in his arms.

He laughs menacingly at your futile requests, giving you a sham apology sealed with a kiss. He then murmurs against your lips, "Didn't you tell me that you're mine?"

You nod your head weakly, and that might be a mistake but at the end of this night, you'll realize that mistakes are options that you just haven't chosen. And not all mistakes are bad.

"Then take what I give you, baby. I haven't cum yet, square up until I'm done with you."

[xxsabitoxx]

My Personal Hashira 🍆 Size Ranking

Warning: if it ain’t obvious, this contains smut lmao — therefore Muichiro is 100% not included in this. We’re talking about 🍆, length, girth, all the fun stuff. So if PPs make you uncomfortable keep on scrolling babes </3

A/N: these low key stress me out cause I feel like people can get pretty defensive over these types of Headcanons. Especially if my own thought differs from yours. Regardless, these are just my personal takes/HCs. My word is not law so do not be upset if my HC does not match yours / don’t feel the need to change how you HC these things to fit my POV. This is why I refrain from describing size in my fics, I want y’all to imagine it in a way that you like lololol

Lastly, idgaf if you see some of this as unrealistic, these are fake, fictional drawings of men, if I wanna give Gyomei a 44ft long 🍆, I can and will (I didn’t but you get the point.) Anyways enjoy my personal thoughts on this matter

1. Himejima Gyomei

Is anyone fucking shocked that this 7’2 (220cm) man is packing the biggest schlong among the male Hashira?

I mean let’s be logical real quick, his dick is as big as the rest of him. This man’s dick is dragging on the floor.

Soft: 11.2

Hard: 12.3

Call it unrealistic idgaf this man is LONG

Girthy too, he’s fucking beefy all over

This man’s dick will feel like he’s shoving his wrist up in there ong bro

It curves downward slightly when hard, I mean shit that thing is heavy, it stands no chance against gravity

2. Uzui Tengen

Again, the man is 6’6 (198cm).

Height comes into play when it comes to our two tank Hashira

Therefore none of you should be surprised that they are the top two

Soft: 9

Hard: 10.3

Your guts are getting rearranged, he knows the length he has but often underestimates how far he can go…

He’s long but doesn’t have a crazy girth to him, which thank fuck it doesn’t take as much prep to take him

He’s pretty straight when hard and manages to flex it and keep it up (he totally does dick tricks & you can’t convince me otherwise)

3. Tomioka Giyu

I’m standing by my “big dick Giyu” head canon. I just know this man is packing a weapon down there

What’s crazy is he wasn’t even aware of how good he had it until he overheard other corps members chatting

Soft: 6.3

Hard: 7.4

He’s got a decent girth and as weird as it may sound, it’s pretty, like really pretty to look at

When hard, it curves upwards and stands at attention which makes him a bit embarrassed

He knows how to use it, because of that he’s pretty confident in that aspect which is wild for him

He will also rearrange your guts unintentionally (or intentionally hehe)

4. Shinazugawa Sanemi

I don’t wanna hear one PEEP from any of you that Sanemi should be above Giyu.

My man is forth on the list but that ain’t mean shit, he’s still got a lot going on down there

Soft: 6

Hard: 7

He’s girthy, will tear you up girth, needs thirty minutes of prep minimum because of how wildly he fucks girth

He sticks straight out, no curve in sight and honestly looks like he defies gravity.

He’s like Tengen, can do dick tricks. But unlike Tengen he doesn’t make that known / show you lmao.

He’ll break your back, he may even hurt you (fully unintentional) if he gets too into it. That thing is fr a weapon

5. Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s fifth on the list but trust me he’s not lacking

He’s second smallest, but he’s not small, if you get what I mean. It’s kinda like how we rank the Hashira weakest to strongest but regardless they are still the strongest in the corps… that make sense?

Soft: 5.8

Hard: 6.8

He curves upwards, very prominent veins running along his shaft (heh, shaft)

Girth wise, he’s about normal. Not too intimidating but def offers you a good stretch, forgoing prep is real bold tbh

He’s a quick learner so he quickly masters how to fuck you

He will strive to go as far as your body will let him, so expect to be bruised / sore

6. Iguro Obanai

My king. He may be “smallest” among the Hashira men, but that doesn’t mean shit.

He’s not self conscious of his dick, he knows how to use it. He’s also pretty content with it’s size

Soft: 5.6

Hard: 6.5

See? You can’t come for me cause he ain’t even SMALL

Obanai’s dick is pretty, too. It curves upwards slightly, since he’s pretty pale, his veins are prominent

He’s got an average girth, he doesn’t need to prep you forever to get you ready. Which works in his favor cause he likes to “punish” you with no prep & going in raw

He can and will abuse your cunt, he’s not satisfied until you genuinely can’t walk without limping for a few days

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🕸🍒 ┊IN THE CAR WASH | Katsuki Bakugou꒱

『♡』 18+, F!reader, handjob, blowjob, mild overstimulation, cum eating, established relationship, you put a finger in his ass 『♡』 aaah this was supposed to be a drabble in tumblr mobile but ended up being a little under 2k. Happy kinktober lmao. -> I was listening to this

The car vibrates, music playing low in the background. Your hand under his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You hum and chew your bottom lip. Cool air blasts through the AC and onto you, he makes a turn and slows down to stop for a red light.

You hit skip on a song and Katsuki frowns a little, turning his head to the side and sticking his tongue out at you. Studs in his ears glisten and his skin glows with the presence of the sunlight.The cycle has a while to go with another two sides set to turn green before yours. A thick hand squeezes your palm as the large man to your left taps his foot to the beat. His lips move slightly as he mimics the words near silently, merely hushed.  

Taking in the image in front of you, you sigh. The black compression shirt highlights every muscle he has. Perked nipples press against the fabric as if they’re begging to be put on display. Your eyes trail down his body for a moment, tongue flicking out to wet pretty lips. Something thick like honey starts to settle in your veins and slowly it begins to cloud your thoughts. 

You bring his hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it and setting it down near the gear shift. He doesn’t pay any mind to it, too preoccupied with watching traffic and listening to music. Nimble fingers slowly reach toward his thigh to slide over the fabric there. 

Katsuki’s tapping stops. His mind halts momentarily, carmine eyes glancing down, before he taps to the rhythm again. A horn blares in the distance and the AC is no match for the way his body is beginning to heat. The faint smell of caramel seeps into your senses and sets you on fire. It makes you bold, whispers little things to you. 

But Katsuki? His mind races and goes over every possibility on the planet of what you have planned. It settles on something innocent. You’re just wanting to rest your hand there, he thinks. 

He is wrong. 

Your fingers trail little circles over dark fabric in repetition, while moving closer to his inner thigh. The music changes and you feel the need to wet your lips again. Katsuki begins to get cotton mouth but he swallows spit down to soothe it.

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right. 

Katsuki thanks his lucky stars that the light turns green with a fuzzy mind. The bottom of his shoe presses on the pedal and the car begins to speed up. He tries not to think too much about your movements. But he his only a man, who’s slowly being put into a trance. 

Lord save me, my drug is my baby. I’ll be using for the rest of my life. 

He swallows again and presses a button on the steering wheel, murmuring lowly to the slowed down song. The blonde beside you seems to be unaffected in your eyes. That just won’t do. He feels your fingers move upwards toward his clothed cock that’s beginning to chub in his pants and lets out a deep sigh. It goes on like that for a while, you brush your palm over him a couple times and feign innocence. And he just keeps driving, seeming unaffected despite your best efforts. 

You glance over at him, his jaw is set and eyes narrow. Tension makes the air thick like the hardening length beneath his belt. You look back at the road, then lean to the side and begin unbuckling his belt. That makes him freeze. His body feels like it’s on fire. 

God knows he’s at your mercy. Forced to drive while you’re toying with him, playing him like a fucking fiddle. He doesn’t even remember where he’s supposed to be going anymore, at some point he just kept driving without thinking. He lets out a slow breath to settle himself when you unzip his pants. 

“Babe.” Katsuki grits, only to hear an innocent hmm? Sound in return. 

He’s going to start leaking soon, cock straining against his boxers. And your start palming lightly at it like the little minx you are. He spots a massive car wash that appears vacant out of the corner of his eye and flicks on the blinker. 

Your hand’s started rubbing and palming at him through his boxers. The head of his cock smears precum on the inside of them, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His hand shakes while turning the AC on full blast, desperate for something to cool him off. Glancing at the mirror, he merges over a few lanes and turns into the car wash. 

When the car pulls in, you remove your hand and blink a little. Katsuki wordlessly grabs his wallet from the center console and shoves his card in, picking the most expensive and extensive wash he can. 

“I thought we were going home..” Your brows furrow, looking around a little. 

“Nope.” He pops the ��p” and pulls in before putting the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. His seat slides back a little to give him some leg room. Large sprayers begin to cover the car in foam and soap. The loud scrubbers going to work.

Katsuki tugs at the waistband of his boxers, setting his cock free. It springs up toward his tummy while slick substance dribbles from the tip of it. He gives it a little stroke as his head falls back, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip. His eyes are half lidded when he looks at you and grunts. 

“Get the fuck over here and suck.”  He reaches a hand under the side of his seat and leans the seat back a little more. You nod and unbuckle the seatbelt. 

Your fingers wrap around him and stroke in a wringing motion. His cock twitches in your hand and he pants. Heat spreads all over both of your bodies and the car wash is so loud you can only hear eachother. His breaths come out in short pants like he’s catching it. 

“Fuck, yeah, like that pretty.” His tanned jaw drops a little when your tongue lays flat against the head. 

You lap at the precum like it’s your favorite thing on the earth to taste. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging at the roots and pushing your head down. Katsuki resists every urge to buck up into your mouth the best he can despite the coil tightly winding in his tummy. But you’re doing so good.

Sucking him like a champ, slurping and making a mess. Spit dribbles down toward his balls but soaks into the waistband of  his boxers. And then you’re sinking down and humming, hand reaching down. He grabs at the side of the car door and braces himself. He can’t keep quiet, letting out long strings of groans and moans. The praise makes your pussy soak through your panties and you think about rubbing your clit for relief. 

“God, take it. Suck my cock, yeah, yeah, shit.” 

That’s all it takes to spur you on. You press a finger near his taint and watch his face scrunch. The car smells like his sweat and those stupid air refresher clips in the vents, leather seats becoming slippery from your fun. Your lips pop off him wetly and you look up to him with such pretty, doey eyes, that he almost cums then. His forearm veins peek out to play as the car door gets squeezed in a death grip. Your lips wrap around the head of his cock and you suck. Hard. Simultaneously you press the finger past the ring of muscle and up to a knuckle. Your hand strokes what you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to focus. 

And just like that the band snaps. Euphoria wracks his body and he fucks up into your mouth, head thrown back as he sings expletives and spills. It seeps from your lips, despite you trying to swallow it all down, but you use a tongue to swipe it up. 

“Oh god, god-” He whimpers out while riding out the high.

Katsuki feels like his entire body is strung high for a moment. His chest heaves and his fingers shake when you pull your mouth off him and give him a quick kiss.Your pussy is soaked and your clit throbs like it has a heartbeat of it own. Sweat has built at the back of his neck and his nipples stay perked. You glance at the lights in the carwash and see there’s still four other things left. Something about scent and bug shield— you don’t know, there’s suds of different colors all over the windows.

You swipe a thumb over his nipple while keeping a finger still in his ass. He whimpers at that and presses his lips into a thin line, gripping your arm so hard it might bruise if he squeezes any tighter. But you persist and stroke his cock with fever.

“I can’t, oh, god baby I can’t it’s-” Katsuki whines out and shakes. His voice goes up in pitch for a moment while desperately trying to hang on to his sanity. You tighten your fingers around him and start pressing the finger inside him upwards. 

His body spasms then goes completely still. Katsuki’s entire body is tight on a string, the only thing keeping him on this god forsaken earth being your pretty hands. Heaven wraps him up in a blanket and makes his chest wrack. Carmine eyes roll back, the hand that was once gripping your forearm now dragging nails down it. Your pussy clenches around nothing and the breath is knocked out of you in awe.

Hot white ropes spill all over your hand. You quickly move the finger out of his asshole and instead use it to anchor you on the seat while you suck the cum off of his cock. It twitches in your hand and mouth with sensitivity. You’re addicted to him, is reactions, his cum— like they’re a drug. 

Lust clouds your mind heavier than it possibly ever has when you look into his half lidded eyes. He’s swallowing your pretty little soul whole and making it a home, making it his. Cum dribbles off the corner of your lip and Katsuki leans forward to lick it off for you. 

His breathing slows and he tosses his head back with a breathy laugh. The car begins to be rinsed and you reach into the console for emergency wipes and toss one on his softening member. He cleans up with a wince and wipes some from your neck while you focus on your hands getting clean. 

“We should come here more.” Katsuki suggests wit a cheeky grin, brow raised and pants now buttoned again. 

“Absolutely. For now.. Let’s get home before I make you pay for another round and eat me out.” You buckle your seatbelt and roll your eyes with a snicker.

You look at him with a fire in your eyes and puffy lips. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles again, this time linking your fingers together before he pulls out of the car wash and heads home.

[zhxngii]

— Submitting

⌗ note ❰❰ This includes all the tall(-ish)/bigger-built men, @ that one post where I mentioned something about yk. maybe i'm just writing this to spite the ones that don't like big subby men lmao. Also! Feel free to insert your faves with these scenarios as well <3

⌗ contents ❰❰ big submissive men; pegging, grinding, riding, oral (reader receiving; strap.), thigh fucking(?), strap is being referred to "cock/shaft/length", kinda messy... there's a lot.

◖Oral

They are in awe at the sight of your strap as they sit obediently between your legs on their knees, looking up at you with those eyes pleading for permission to touch you which you eventually give.

He wastes no time in reaching for your cock, excitedly scooting closer as his hand wraps around your length, a hum of satisfaction being heard from him as he takes you inside his mouth, feeling how heavy it was on his tongue. A shiver runs down their spines as they feel you petting and cooing at them as they take you further inside, eyes staying on yours and glistening in the light upon hearing you praise them.

Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Diluc, Thoma, Kaveh, Itto, Baizhu, Pantalone, Gepard, Dan Heng il, Luocha

They're so needy and pathetic looking once they finally get a taste of your cock, so messy as they eagerly bob their heads, taking your length as deep as they possibly can, sometimes gagging around you. Acting as if they simply just couldn't get enough of your cock, even taking the time to press kisses along your shaft, swirling their tongues around the tip just because.

When I say that they're messy? I mean literally, spit seeping out the corners of their mouths, dripping down their chins, they're so shameless. So shameless that they're not afraid to touch themselves while doing so, desperately hammering their cocks until they're a whiny mess under you, moans becoming more high-pitched the closer they are to their climax.. and to the way you push their heads down further.

Childe, Alhaitham, Ayato, Kaeya, Dottore, Welt Yang, Sampo, Blade, Jing Yuan

◖Grinding

A tint of red appeared on their faces as they felt your strap, flush against their cock, a sudden whimper as they felt your hands wrap around both of your lengths, softly and slowly moving in up and down motions. A hand shooting up to their mouths to conceal their sounds but fails as they feel you thrust just slightly, your cock rubbing so nicely against theirs that it's driving them mad.

Immediately giving up on hiding their moans, they just let it all out. Their heads tilted back as they try to match your movements but is instead met with their body being pushed down onto a surface. Without time to react properly, he blushes even more upon seeing you put his legs over your shoulder, hands instantly finding the sheets, eyes shutting tightly as he feels your cock gliding at such a pace between his thighs, giving such needed friction to his aching cock.

Wriothesley, Zhongli, Itto, Diluc, Thoma, Baizhu, Kaveh, Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Gepard, Luocha

They're fully bare as they sit on your lap, lips latched onto yours needily as they subtly grind themselves against you. Even though they were bigger than you, it didn't necessarily stop them from feeling small in a way right now.

A while slipping past their lips onto yours as they feel your cock against the curve of their ass, your hands firm on their waists to guide their movements. Not to mention that little bit of friction on their hard, leaking cocks as it rubs against your shirt, shamelessly staining it with their arousal. Usually, they'd be embarrassed at making such a mess on your shirt but... it can be excused since you're driving them so crazy right now.

Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya, Dottore, Pantalone, Ayato, Dan Heng il, Sampo, Blade

◖Pegging

When I tell you they're riding you with a passion???? Letting out a whimper at the feel of you stretching them out once they slide down on your length, sluggish hips movements as they grind back and forth to feel how deep you are inside them.

Their breathing picks up once they start off a decent pace, light sound of the back of their thighs and ass smacking against the skin of yours. Their cocks rubbing against your shirt in a faster manner, bouncing in time with their pace. Nails digging into your shoulders as you thrust in time with them, a choked mewl in the shell of your ear upon feeling you spreading their ass cheeks apart.

Wriothesley, Childe, Kaeya, Ayato, Alhaitham, Pantalone, Dottore, Sampo, Blade, Dan Heng il

He prefers to be lying on the bed rather than riding you, since it was a bit embarrassing in his eyes for some reason but oh how he loved seeing you on top of him.

Despite mentioning being embarrassed, oh how he wasn't shy in the slightest while spreading his legs wide for you, making sure that you could see how he's properly prepared himself for you, your cock.

He's already panting and shivering so cutely under you once you pushed inside him, his back arching off the bed, wanting more of your touch as your lips found his chest, teasing his sensitive peaks with your tongue and teeth. His hands grasp the sheets underneath as your hips repeatedly smack against him, a string of 'thank you's and pleadings for you not to stop coming from his lips.

Neuvillette, Zhongli, Itto, Diluc, Thoma, Kaveh, Baizhu, Welt Yang, Gepard, Luocha, Jing Yuan

[ham-st4r]

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.4 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

☎️ Pairing: heeseung + fem reader!

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, pet names, cursing.

Genre: PSO (phone sex operator) heeseung

Summary: I think most of you get it by now lmao didn’t write this well but whatever :/

Number of words: 1,905k

Find your way around!

You chewed on your lip nervously as you contemplated his offer, your better judgment going out the window when you felt just how wet your panties had gotten from seeing his body.

You immediately FaceTimed him, and it barely got a chance to ring before he answered the call. And when he did, you were faced with something you didn't expect, at least not so soon.

"Hi, angel," he moans softly. The only thing in the frame is his cock, his very big thick, and veiny cock.

You gasped at the sight, heart already pounding in your chest with nerves and excitement, and he wasn't lying when he said that it wasn't as big as he could get.

You stare silently in awe, watching as his fingers squeeze the lower part of his shaft, his thumb rubbing out the clear, sticky precum from his tip. "Wow," you say absentmindedly, forgetting you were on the phone with him until you hear him softly chuckle on the other end, and your face immediately flushes with embarrassment.

"Told you," he says teasingly while you're still internally dying with embarrassment cause you didn't even say hi to him before you started ogling his cock, but in your defense, he's the one that decided to answer his phone in the most unconventional way.

"I didn't know it'd be that big," you say in amazement.

He twitched involuntarily at your words, a soft moan muffled into the speaker as you and him both watched on while he spread the precum all over his cock, making it shiny and slick, aiding his hand to run up and down smoothly. "All for your eyes," he responds flirtatiously, pumping his cock achingly slow, another drip of precum spilling from the head. "Fuck” he whispers, repeating the same actions as before, stroking his length up and down, his arousal heightening at the thought of you watching him touch himself on video call. "Angel, are you touching yourself too?"

Since you had FaceTimed him, your screen was pitch black, much to his dissatisfaction because he was dying to see you the moment he heard your shy, timid voice the first night you called him, he just knew your face would match your pretty voice.

"N-no," you revert back to your shy demeanor. Texting him was easy, but talking to him wasn't so easy.

"Oh angel, not this again." he changes his tone, going back to the one he always used to break you out of your little apprehensive shell. "We've already done this so many times."

"Only three," you mutter.

"Good to know I'm not the only one counting." you could hear the smirk in his voice, making you tuck into yourself, feeling shyer by the minute. "But angel, it's just me, you know me," he whispers. "I always satisfy you, right? Always talk to you nice and make you feel good," he moans softly, dragging his thumb from his base to tip, encouraging you to please yourself the same way.

"Yes," you whisper, slowly picking up your phone and revealing the short skirt that was covering just below your core, giving him the perfect view of your thighs.

"So good for me, angel." The words alone make you clench around nothing, and you can't help but rub your thighs together to release the built-up tension between them. "Now, lift your skirt up a little higher. Can you do that for me?" He gulped down harshly. Just the sight of your thighs turning him on. Even the slightest touch felt like it'd make him cum, but he continued to fondle himself, hand slithering down to cup his balls and give his cock, which was leaking in desperation a much-needed break.

When he saw your hand hesitate, he didn't push you any further cause the last thing he wanted was for you to do something you didn't want, but before he could even stop you, your skirt was around your waist, your white panties on display for his and your eyes only. "Is that good?" You say barely above a whisper.

He could have cum to the sound of your voice alone. "Fuck yes, that's so good, so perfect" he tugged on his balls softly, hand trailing to his cock cause he couldn't help but stroke it to the sight of your panties. "Now show me how you do it," he hissed as his thumb glided across his sensitive tip. "Show me how you please yourself, angel."

You don't know what came over you, but the moment you heard his voice all deep and husky instructing you what to do, you couldn't help yourself, especially since you've been turned on for so long. You just needed to feel something already, and the sight of his cock was not helping your situation.

You hastily lifted your hips, slipping your panties down your thighs, showing your pussy to him for the first time.

Everything was happening so fast he couldn't hardly believe what he was seeing right now. "Oh my fuck” he groans, fisting his cock desperately, heavy breaths falling from his parted lips as his brows furrow and the heavy feeling in his abdomen intensifies. "You're so fucking pretty, my angel" he throws his head back, chest rising and falling as he bites on his lip, trying his hardest not to cum so soon, but the sight of your pussy made it really hard not to.

"Thank you," You said it so low, but he heard it loud and clear, his cock throbbing and twitching with every move of his hand as he listened to your sweet voice.

"Angel, I can't hold it much longer" he slowed the pace of his hand, letting go of his cock as it throbbed uncontrollably, and he almost came untouched.

You moaned softly, hands slowly slipping between your legs, fingers dancing along your glistening folds. "Ethan," you whimper, his name desperately, walls already clenching around nothing as you massage your clit.

"Fuck, I wanna feel you so bad" he took a deep breath, eyes hazed over with arousal as he teased his cock, edging himself for at least the third time.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, speeding up the movement of your fingers as you circled your swollen clit in quick circular motions. "I'm so wet for you, Ethan," you breathe out, a finger slipping inside along with a second one following just moments later as you started pumping your tight, wet hole.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. He was trying so hard not to cum first, but it was getting harder and harder, especially with the way you were talking to him.

"Mmh Ethan," you boldly pull your fingers out of your hole, a string of wetness connecting your fingers to your core. "Want your cock in me so bad fingers aren't big enough," you whine as you spread your slick arousal over your clit, rubbing it faster as your thighs tense from the pleasure.

He was losing his mind. The pleasure was almost tortuous with how long he's been holding out, but he couldn't bring himself to cum just yet. He wanted this feeling to last forever. "Yeah? Need my big cock filling you up, angel?"

"Yes," you moan, hips rising off your bed as your orgasm builds more by the second.

"Me too, need my cock in you. Just wanna feel your soaked pussy wrapping around my cock. Need to feel that warm little cunt squeezing on me," he groans, abs tensing with every mouth-watering stroke.

"Yes, Ethan fuck, I want you. Need you in me, stretching me open fucking me so deep," you say with absolutely no filter.

Apparently, his hand had a mind of its own cause the moment those words reached his ears. He couldn't control the quick pace his hand worked at to bring him closer to cumming. "Fuck angel, I'd fill you up so well fuck you so deep, stuff you with cum” Loud breathy whines soon turn into desperate moans just seconds later, and he can't hold off any longer. He needs to cum to you. His moans were enough to have you close to letting go. "Angel, please tell me you're close."

"So close, Ethan." You squeezed your thighs together, your fingers moving at the speed of light to coax an orgasm out of you.

"Angel cum for me, please. Need your cum so bad," he pleads before he sucks in a breath, hand quickly slipping up and down his precum-soaked shaft.

The wet sounds both your bodies made had your cheeks feeling hot. The sight of his veiny hand stroking himself off was all you needed to let go, and with a string of moans mixed with his name, you were creaming for him in just seconds. "Cumming, Ethan," you whine, walls spasming harshly as you let go, toes curling as you indulge in pleasure with him cumming right after you.

"M-me fucking too," he grunts, rubbing out the first rope of seed. "Oh shit fuck, angel feels so good" he continues pumping out all of his thick milky cum as it covers his fist and runs down his shaft, some of it leaking to his tight balls.

You chant his name over and over. The image of him cumming just made your orgasm feel ten times more intense.

"Cumming so much for you," he pants as weaker spurts of cum shoot out until it turns into a few dribbles spilling all over his fist as he jerks his overly sensitive cock squeezing the head and milking himself for every last drop he has to give you. "Angel," he groans, body shuddering as he covers his cock in cum, stroking out the last few bits of his orgasm.

You both go silent except for all the deep, heavy breaths and quiet moans.

"Oh my goodness," he laughs breathlessly, trying to put what he just experienced into words.

"What?" You giggled shyly, fingers running over your mound, the dim light in your room highlighting the sheen of your slick, and he couldn't help but lick his dry lips from the enticing visual.

"That was fucking amazing, that's what," he chuckles. "Wow, that felt so good. I've never cum so much before," he admits.

"Oh my gosh," you turned to your side, grabbing your blanket to hide yourself, feeling all shy once again.

"Oh my gosh is right," he teases. "Look at all this" he pans the screen back showing his lean upper body that was completely covered in his cum, and he was right. It was indeed a lot, you couldn’t help but think of how it’d feel inside you. "Wish it was inside you instead, angel. I'd loved to watch it dripping out of your cute little hole."

You try to hold back a moan from his words, and you can’t ignore the feeling of arousal growing in the pit of your stomach once again. And even though you literally just came, you still wanted more. "Ethan," you whisper, a tingle between your legs already making its presence known.

"Yeah, angel?" He answers like he's completely unaware of what he's doing to you.

"Stop," you mumble, and he can't help but smirk as he watches you rubbing your thighs together not so discreetly.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything" he swipes up a puddle of his cum, running it along his semi-hard cock.

You breathe shakily, a drop of arousal leaking from your hole just from his teasing alone. "Ethan," you cave, instantly moaning his name as he rubs over his tip, circling his thick pink cock head.

"Mmh fuck, you want it too, don't you?" He asks, cock hardening right in front of your eyes. "Wanna see me make myself feel good again, angel?"

You respond by pulling your sheet back, your hand gliding between your legs. "Yes, Ethan," you say quietly.

It looks like you were both in for a very, very long night.

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback! -🐹

Permanent taglist🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

Just a call away taglist🔖 @heeseungshim @rayofsunshineeee @fakeuwus @heesquared @skzenhalove sorry if I missed you:/

[t1red-twilight]

soft peter headcannons

summary: might cause cavities

content/warnings: gn!reader, andrew!peter, fluffffff

word count: 0.4k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

- peter is not that much of an outspoken guy (outside of spidersona, lmao)

- this is mirrored in how he loves you

- he’s super gentle. he kisses you very gently, holds you gently, isn’t super rough at all

- ushy gushy mushy loser make outs

- he loves going on little outings with you

- whether that’s a dinner reservation, or coffee while you sit in silence doing copious amounts of homework.

- he always pays, but he does so very quietly. you don’t notice most of the time

- “you already paid? good god peter. i have money, you know” (jokingly, of course)

- you might as well be an rn with the amount of times you’ve patched him up and disinfected his wounds

- your first aid kit has expanded to be like a cabinet full of anything that you may need at a moment’s notice

- he got you matching necklaces for christmas one year

- he wears his every day.

- when someone asks him about it, he gets all giddy and tells them all about you

- “its a matching necklace with my partner! y’know they actually-”

- he's not super big on pda

- you asked him once about this, and he had told you that he didn’t want to ‘commodify’ your relationship. he wanted to keep that part private and just to yourselves

- showers together </3

- before you move in together, showers together had become so commonplace that he took pictures of your shampoo and body wash and stuff and just kinda bought them for his place

- will just hold you in the shower for an unprecedented amount of time

- full length version of that one here

- CANDID PHOTOS AND VIDEOS

- petey boy loves his camera and will take pictures of you whenever he feels prompted

- in the beginning you would point out when he would take pictures, but now you’re just used to it.

- think ‘dead wife montage’ from the beginning of a movie (minus the deceased part, i suppose)

- lowkey gives the best hugs

- he’ll hold the back of your head and tuck his face into your neck and just squeeze

- he teases you semi-regularly

- he’s super playful with you and likes to show his affection that way

- your morning routine is memorized at this point

- sometimes you don’t even to talk to each other, you just naturally know your way around each other super well

- he’s super domestic, actually

- loves making dinner together, reading the same books and talking about them, movie marathons (followed by over analyzing them, of course)

- if you’re in college, he’ll help you with your homework

- he’s very good at explaining things

- rewards you with little smooches

- puts his glasses on you

- your closets have molded into one massive super closet

- you wear each other’s t-shirts and hoodies all the time

- buys you little trinkets

- concluding thoughts: soft is peter’s middle name. he so loves to be around you and he loves even more that you love being around him.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.

but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.

also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....

ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.

[bunnyksj]

The Perfect Girl - MYG x Reader

Summary: Yoongi makes sure his pretty girl feels even prettier in his lovely red rope <3 

Author’s Note: fuck it yoongi smut lol, my first fic yay !! sorry if its short or not written very well, i'm getting used to it lol, ASLO thanks for all ur requests i'm working on them rn >_< i was listening to this song while writing this teehee :3

TAGS: smut duh, short and sweet, established relationship, PWP, bondage, possessiveness, bro hits it raw (pls wrap the willy), he calls you his slut lol, dom/sub themes, sub!reader, creampies, cunnilingus, VERY slight dumbification, like if you squint lmao.

WORD COUNT: 1k 

Yoongi has always adored you. His perfect, sweet girl. He hates seeing your pretty face scrunched up in a frown, tired from working your damn ass off. It pained him to see you come home everyday, your hand running through your hair, hearing your angry rants about the stupid fucks you worked with. You looked  much better like this. Your pleading eyes gazing up into his, spread out on your bed, hands tied to the headboard and legs tied apart, open and ready for him. The dark crimson hue of the rope matches perfectly with your complexion, he picked it out just for you. 

“So fucking perfect baby…” 

He growls, his dark eyes roaming over your body. His hands brush across your jaw, pressing down on your bottom lip, his own roughly meeting yours. Such a little slut you were, getting him all worked up. He slowly crawled over you, his hand reaching out to grab your tied ones, slowly running his hands over the thick rope. You whined as he traced two fingers over your leaking slit, caressing and worshiping your pretty pussy, sinking them in to open you up.  

“Such a good girl..gonna make you feel so good…so full. Just open you up for me baby..” 

You nodded softly, whimpering as his fingers continued to work open your cunt. His eyes focused on the way your slick covered his fingers and leaked onto the sheets, moaning softly at the sight. 

“Fuck…I need to be inside you baby..need to fuck you, make you feel so full..do you want it baby? Tell me..” 

“Please…” You cried, bucking your hips as best you could. “Wanna feel you….want you to fill me up…please..” 

He flashes a soft smile, leaning closer to you, his cockhead rubbing against your puffy folds, leaking precum. He trails kisses down your neck, softly biting and licking up to your ear, whispering darkly. 

“That’s it baby…” 

He pushes into your body, and you gasp. His thick length stretches you open, nice and wide, filling you to the brim. He soothingly runs his hands over your stomach. When you’ve adjusted he begins to move his hips, slamming into yours, rubbing right up against your sweet spot. His hands grip your waist, lifting up your hips, tugging at the ties on your lower legs, as he rams into your body. He moves one of his hands to softly trace over your nipple, pinching it softly, before he leans down to nip it gently. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He growls, obsessed with the feeling of your body against his. “My fucking slut…this is what you wanted right…don't gotta think about nothing else now. Just let me make you feel good, okay?” 

You whine, your back arching and eyes rolling back, whining desperately. The restraints of the rope limiting your eager movements, controlling the urge to fuck yourself back onto him. Making you feel completely under his control. 

“Yoongi….so full..” 

He smirks into your neck. “I know, sweet baby. Feels good doesn't it…” 

“Yes~!” 

You cry, your bodies crashing and bouncing in sync together, sweat forming on both of your brows. He leans down to steal you in a passionate kiss, his tongue roaming your mouth possessively, pulling away with a smirk, his tongue running over his top teeth, as he continues ramming his hips into yours, claiming every inch of your delicate body. 

“F-fuck..gonna fucking cum…gonna fill my slut up. Tell me you want it baby…” 

“Please…wanna cum. I wanna…feel you..fill me up..so fucking good…Yoongi…please!” 

Who was he to deny his baby? Especially since your little cunt made him feel so damn good. He admires the way your legs shake and your body bucks up underneath his rope, your tight cunt clenching around him. 

He moans lowly into your ear, filling you up with his thick seed. You whine out, bucking up as you clench around him, cumming around him. He pulls out slowly, his cum leaks out onto the sheets. He rests on his knees, his hands coming behind your back, gripping your ass as he pulls your body closer to his face, as best he can. He licks and bites at your thighs, leaving a pretty trail of hickeys towards your leaking core. He worships your pretty pussy, licking and suckling over your clit and inside your needy hole. 

“So sweet and pretty, my little slut. You love this don't you?” 

“Mhm…!” You whine, overstimulated, soft gasps escaping your wet lips. 

He continues to eat you out, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration, moaning softly at the feeling of your combined fluids. He slips his fingers back into you, stretching your already used hole. You whine, your hands pulling against the firm restraints, whimpering in pleasure. 

“Yoongi..feels so good…” 

“I know, sweet girl. So fucking pretty for me. Just keep letting me take care of you.” 

You throw your head back, your eyes clouding with lust , soft tears of pleasure and overstimulation run down your cheeks as you cum. His tongue doesn't stop probing at your pussy, making sure you ride out your orgasm. 

“So fucking sexy…” He says, his voice husky. He pulls away from your pussy, his lips wet, smiling softly as he leans in to kiss you softly.  

“You okay, baby?” He asks, reaching up to remove the rope keeping your hands secure. 

“Yeah..” You reply, softly, your voice soft and strained from your cries of pleasure. “I'm okay..” 

“I’m glad.” He says, softly smiling, as he removes the rope from around your legs. You lie back, sighing. Your body is exhausted, but satisfied. He snakes his hands around your waist, holding you close to his chest, stroking your hair as you fall into a peaceful sleep. His eyes filled with admiration and love for you. 

Yoongi always took such good care of you. This was how he liked to see you, his  pretty girl, sleeping soundly with a sweet smile on your lips, all your stress gone. What more could he want? 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

[inserts Starscream next to Hashtag-] Seriously, its so hard getting a good view of their bunker, and there's never a screenshot of Star at their place so i can only manifest lmao

But yeah! Starscream is now amidst the Malto family and oh boy is this era of the fic complex to write oml. This chapter certainly matched the previous in length, and i feel like that might become a pattern with tryna wrap up these types of interactions/scenes.

Starscream is full of so much hekin anxiety dude, but this time he actually does get a bit of assistance!

Previous Chapter: The Illusion of Freedom

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Bee's Good Guy Crash Course

Chapter 9: Settling Into Circumstance

Finally. 

After an absurd amount of kliks being knocked around the blasted box the bots had apparently needed to throw him in, they reached their destination. Signaled by the gradual slowing of momentum, paired with a collection of conversation, and the trailer door beginning to be pulled open. Starscream was not going to allow either of those femmes to wrestle him out of his predicament, he needed some dignity. So, he maneuvered himself as closely to the entrance as he could to prepare his exit. 

The effort was extremely uncomfortable, but he didn’t care, as long as he got out of there with at least a scrap of his pride intact. As soon as Elita-1 became fully visible, he shoved her aside with one servo while pushing off from the edge of the trailer with the other. “Out of my way!” He’d almost stumbled into a faceplate full of dirt, but instead ducked into a haphazard roll with an involuntary yelp. Not exactly as graceful as he would hope. Starscream’s wings fluttered and twitched in relief from finally being able to move, although it perhaps too could reflect his lingering embarrassment. He quickly picked himself up and dusted his servos with an air of disinterest. “I will never understand the choice to travel by way of wheels.” 

Arcee had the audacity to laugh. “Aww, someone’s cranky.” 

He glared at her, up until he noticed Elita-1 staring him down in turn. A rather malicious grin came upon her faceplate as she approached him. “Have fun at con daycare. Don’t make me come pick you up early.” She hit her shoulder against his as she forced herself past. “C’mon Cee.” Arcee shrugged and they made their oddly hasty retreat, as if they had something better to do.

Starscream flapped his servo in a mocking gesture as he muttered their words in a perfect imitation of what they sounded like. Then flinched to rigid attention when the Prime called his designation. Who was followed by the bug trailing behind him with a pouty squint to his optics. 

“Starscream. Will you follow us to the barn please?” The Prime was apparently quite fond of phrasing his orders as if they were requests. 

“You talk as if I have a choice in the matter.” Starscream tossed his servo at the absurdity before making his way by their side.

“Tough Screamer. We aren’t exactly thrilled about this either.” Bumblebee kept pace if only to point a digit at Starscream to display his clear frustration at the seeker’s intrusion on his human hideout. “But Optimus is trusting me with this assignment–so just know that we’re not here to mess around. This is very serious.” 

“I’m sure he’s aware, Bumblebee.” The Prime was standing right at Starscream’s wing opposite to the bug. Great. Boxed in between two bots to be chaperoned away to a different wooden box. He was thrilled. 

So much so in fact that he began to ignore them in favor of scanning his surroundings. They looked to be in a patch of wilderness cleared out for an organic farm of some sort. Beside the “barn” was assumedly where the humans took residence. The Malto’s human femme guardian, he couldn’t quite recall her designation, was loitering at the entrance. Talking with Megatron. 

Starscream stopped walking. 

What were they conspiring about over there? That human was the leader of their odd family if he remembered correctly. Was that the “Dorothy” Megatron had referenced in the brig? The buckethead already had an inside agent with full control over the operation! She’d report any measly thing Starscream would do–to him. Of course they would put Megatron in charge of this little scheme of theirs. They were probably discussing all of what he should be notified about. Starscream could vent incorrectly. Or tip over one of those fences. Or get one of their designations wrong. Or not stand right. Talk too much. Or not enough. What other things might he be able to do wrong? Megatron would surely be sent to rip his wings off if he didn’t behave how they wanted. But Starscream didn’t know how these mechs thought he was supposed to act! Even when he’d thought he’d known how to navigate the Decepticons, he always had found a way to anger Megatron! 

Primus, he was doomed.

“Are you alright?”

Starscream jerked and shuttered his optics. “W-what?”

It was the Prime. Had they been trying to get his attention and realized he had started to ignore them? Scrap–he’d been ignoring them! And Megatron had certainly seen him shove the femme aside earlier… He was so, so fragged.

“I asked if you’re alright.” The Prime repeated, and Bumblebee was looking at him weird.

Megatron was looking at him.

“YES–never better–in here, you said? So sorry for the delay.” Starscream was trying his oh so innocent tone on the mechs who hadn’t given a single slag back at the Titan; but hey, maybe it’d work this time. He quickly ducked inside the door, and only the bug followed him. He supposed the Prime was breaking away to meet up with Megatron and that Dorothy human. To report Starscream's obvious insubordination no doubt.

He hated it here already.

Red lightning flickered between his wings, and the cracks running from his optics began to burn. When had those gotten there? He suddenly became very aware of how flammable this structure was. 

“You know, I zapped myself with one of the chaos clouds once to beat Breakdown. How come I didn’t get some perma-buff? What, ‘cause I didn’t slap the whole artifact itself on my arm?” Bumblebee complained casually as he hovered his ped above a particular portion of the floor. 

“Trust me, you don’t want this curse.” Starscream absentmindedly responded in a far away whisper. 

“Riiiight. Well, get ready for the drop.”

“The wha– AAh!” The ground beneath his peds pulled apart in a smooth yet abrupt motion that tripped him off his peds and into the opening. Apparently that was what the bug had been up to. He stumbled down the stairs until he fell on his tailpipe with a metallic thunk, which made Bumblebee burst out laughing. Starscream’s wings flicked and his optics flickered red. “Don’t laugh at me! You did that on purpose, you slagging glitch!” 

“Pff– I did warn you, fly boy. But, yeah. Mmmaybe a little bit.” The damn bug looked so smug as his doors fluttered with lingering amusement. “And make sure to watch your language ‘round the kids will ya? Already have to worry about human curse words as is.”

Starscream growled with a roll of his optics, “No promises,” and shakily stood to follow him down the short, newly visible hallway. It quickly opened up into an artificial cavern, which looked like a rudimentary undercity. Well, an extremely small one in comparison to Cybertron’s. And with far too many silly nicknacks strewn about with questionable use. Even so, at least he actually wasn’t going to be staying in the horrible shack above them. And the Terrans apparently did have their own stylized residence that wasn’t falling apart. Perhaps that is why they actually liked their humans. Although a reliance on the creatures would always prove precarious regardless. 

“Here comes his highness.” Bumblebee announced flatly like it was some form of satire, as he entered in front of Starscream to join the others. There were so many of them. That dinobot brat, the avian beastformer, the three wheeler, Sprite’s twin, Hashtag, and those two blasted human twerps. They were all staring at him with varying levels of contempt or apprehension. 

Starscream’s optics flitted across the crowd and hesitated far longer than he should have as his vocalizer betrayed him. “Uh, yes… right, hello.” That displayed too much anxiety, try again. He straightened his posture to exude more confidence and attempted a friendly smile that might have looked a bit more sinister than he intended. “I’m sure you all are absolutely ecstatic to be graced with my presence. So, what redemption inducing activity do we have on the agenda for today?” He couldn’t help but focus his gaze upon Hashtag, who looked too uncomfortably tense. Starscream approached the group carefully with one servo behind him, and acted as though he didn’t notice. 

The human femme brat–it was Mo, he remembered–crossed her arms. “We’re just settling in right now.”

Her brother, Robb something, seemed to finish her thought as he stepped in front of her defensively. “Yeah. Hold your horses Decepticreep.” 

Starscream looked down at him with a twinge of confusion and annoyance. What on Cybertron was a horse? And why in this context would he need to hold them? Regardless, he forcefully kept a smile on his faceplate as the others continued with their own comments. 

The dinobot trotted up with a hunger in his optics that made Starscream inadvertently centihic away from him. “If he tries anything, I can bite ‘im! I’m good at that–”

Bee patted his head with a fond grin, “Cool your core there J.B., remember, a good scout needs to be patient.” Yes, conspire their bloodlust right in front of him why don’t they. Certainly feeling the love around here.

The three wheeler Trash–no, Thrash–stepped up beside the dinobot, “Optimus wants us to give you a chance, Starscream, but don’t think for a second that we’ll fall for any of your sweet talk or poor me con business.”

Starscream put a servo to his chassis in faux surprise at such an accusation. “I would never dream of doing such a thing! I agreed to y–our glorious leader’s generous offer, in a true aspiration towards change!”

“...Not just to get out of the brig?” Hashtag asked skeptically with a tipped servo. 

Starscream’s optic twitched red for a split nano-klik. “Of course not! Our conversation really made me realize my wrong doings, my dear Hashtag.” When he tried to step closer to her, Spitfire’s red clone Twitch inserted herself between them. 

“Give her space Starscream.” The little drone had a stern glare that reminded him of the scowl Sprite so often gave him in the Titan. “Whatever reason you wanna give us, you’ll have to prove it.” The rest of them nodded in agreement.

Except the beastformer–Nightshade was the designation, Starscream was nailing this–who interjected with an effort to diffuse the tension. They raised a servo and put it on Hashtag’s shoulder, while looking at Starscream with a strange…indifference, in their optics. “Come now siblings, let us engage in more friendly conversation. For instance, we can display the room we constructed for our new house guest!” They broke away to begin walking toward a corner extending from one of the structures.

“A room, you say? How exciting.” Starscream’s vocalizer slipped a twinge of sarcasm, although he could admit he did harbor some surprise at the idea. They were providing him with his own whole in the wall where he could potentially keep things from them in? Why would they trust such a thing? There was certainly something sinister lurking within this ruse of hospitality. 

He began to follow them, with Bumblebee doing the same, while the others lingered a bit further behind. Whispers prodded at Starscream’s audials, but those were of no use to him. Let them scheme or complain all they want. He was used to bots talking behind his back.

“I do hope you like it.” Nightshade said earnestly as they gestured a servo in an invitation for Starscream to enter, while they stood to the side. “I did not have as much reference in terms of personability as I did my siblings. So, the decor is primarily influenced by us having a bit of fun with it, admittedly.”

The door was actually constructed perfectly for Starscream’s height. He hesitantly took a step inside with a servo gripping the doorframe, in case a forcefield decided to shut him in immediately. There was a berth fixed against the corner wall, with a couple odd panels that could be distinguished across it. One even seemed like there was an attempt at hiding it with the odd array of colorful, plush squares littering the berth. The walls were painted in accordance with Starscream's own colors, although tainted by a horrendous assortment of human transformers propaganda. Including one that was an offensive illustration of him plastered to a “hang in there” poster. The black ceiling speckled with glowing star decals, barely made up for it. Even if they weren’t arranged to resemble favorable constellations as one would expect from such an effort. The only attempt he could make out was a string lined in a way that vaguely resembled a valve wrench. Although the strangest addition was a human sized lamp that could resemble Bumblebee placed in a corner. Which was backdropped by a sign that read in bold letters: “No evil allowed” with an X’ed out Decepticon emblem. How subtle. 

“So…what do you think?” Nightshade asked hopefully after a stint of silence. 

“They didn’t rig the place to explode, the kids actually tried to put some thought into this thing. So how about maybe a thank you, or something?” Bumblebee had become far too close to Starscream’s wings, and was obviously gearing to shove him inside to make a point. 

Starscream forced himself to release the doorframe from his hold to gain some distance from the looming mech, and made his way over to a different poster. The least disgusting of the bunch, which displayed three familiar seekers soaring through the sky with a burning city below. “Yes, well, it is certainly far more lively than my most recent arrangements.” A groveling thank you at such a ridiculous thing, seemed hardly appropriate. Still, he should probably sound more enthused than that to appease them. “And I appreciate that so much, my sweet little Terran friend!” He tipped his helm to the side with a grin aimed toward Nightshade and ignoring the bug. Then dropped it as soon as he turned away from them again, although still made certain to control his tone. “I see you all have quite the humor about you.” He commented in a vague gesture towards one of the more absurd posters displaying a Decepticon defeat. They’d obviously gone for some acute air of irony in their approach. 

“Ah yes, the others did enjoy adding a couple playful jabs, as one could say, when it came to the posters.” Nightshade shrugged with a grin at the memory. “The stars were my idea. Do you like them? I simply assumed, with star being in your name and all, that it might be something that could appeal to you.”

Starscream could simply say that he did, with some exuberant air of elation. It wouldn’t be a complete lie, after all, the stars were indeed the room’s best feature. Yet his curiosity got the better of him as he hesitated, glancing back at them discreetly. “Why do you care whether I like it?” The whole thing was rather excessive despite their clear disdain for his presence. Why had they bothered? 

“I want to make certain that I did a satisfactory job in making you feel welcome.” Nightshade fiddled with their servo’s anxiously. “This is a rather… odd situation we have come upon. I wish it to go well.”

“That so?” Starscream brought his servos behind him, turning to fully face the Terran again with a smile. “I assure you, your addition trumps all others! Well, except perhaps that poster displaying Megatron getting blasted across a ravine.” As he gestured to it, Starscream threw his ped backward to knock the Bumblebee lamp to the floor with a satisfying clunk. “That is certainly my type of humor.” He succeeded in distracting the Terran from his petty action, yet not the bug, who glared at him from the sideline. Good. He flashed him a sparring glance and a smirk before smoothly shifting attention back to Nightshade, approaching the door again to make his exit. “You and your siblings did a wonderful job, Nightshade.”

The Terran lit up at the praise and clapped their servos together. “I am glad! Perhaps as we all get better acquainted in the effort at becoming allies, we can add upon it with your own input! I promise to not take offense to any changes you wish to make.”

Starscream came up beside the Terran, then began to trace the perimeter of the cavern as he was followed. The other children seemed to have taken to their own perches while still keeping watch of his movements. Did they really have nothing else explicitly planned? The loosely structured nature laid before him made Starscream uneasy. 

“You seem more hopeful than the others.” He began while entertaining his optics with every little detail of his surroundings. “Does… Hashtag share such a sentiment?” Her focus seemed to only be hard locked with whatever was on her datapad. Perhaps it was foolish of him to yearn for some sort of connection with the kid now. She too did think him worse than Megatron, after all…

“Yes. I believe she does.” Nightshade responded decisively with a nod. “Although if I were to disclose further, I fear it would cross a line of privacy for her feelings on the matter.”

“You can’t expect her to be jumping with joy right after you blatantly threatened her back at the brig.” Bumblebee added snarkily as he continued to be a diligent little shadow. “Get a grip on reality, why don’tcha.” 

As if Starscream wasn’t already quite aware. As if he didn’t remember. As if the damned bug thought he was stupid. Why did these bots keep acting as though he couldn’t understand the situation they’ve thrusted upon him? Did they really think so low of his competency? Starscream had a perfect grip on reality! His processor never deleted things without his knowledge. Or bent his perception in any way. He knew exactly what was happening–

Starscream in-vented sharply as the crimson lightning sent a surge through his frame that shot pain through his spark, and stopped him in his tracks. He felt a sudden urge to purge his tank–which had apparently obtained a higher energon level at some point–as the cracks from his optics burned. Why had it flared up so much?! Nightshade had given him a positive response hadn’t they? Frag the bug, he needed to focus on what the kid said. Which was…?

That, maybe, Hashtag didn’t hate him after all. Right? That was good.

But he still couldn’t move.

Quintus’ curse was intent on imbueding him with an intense desire to strangle that Autobrat until his smartaft voice box broke. Or whip around and snap at him with a verbal assault that would no doubt lead to a larger altercation. But he knew he couldn’t. Even as it was increasingly difficult to discern the difference between the curse’s power over his processor, or if it actually was what he wanted to do. 

When the bug decided to kneel down in some attempt at gaining his attention, Starscream couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was too close. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” Starscream threw his servo at Bumblebee, which the lightning empowered to send them both stumbling backwards. Starscream gripped his helm and furiously struggled to will the blasted power to stop shaking every centihic of his frame, and force it back into whatever crevice it’d made for itself. “J-Just–GIVE me a nano-klik to– AUGH COME ON!” He needed control. If he couldn’t even trust his own frame to work with him–

“Dude, Starscream, buddy, you need to chill– just sit down and uh…take deep breaths or something?” Bumblebee sounded as though he were trying to help, but all he seemed to be able to do was state the obvious.

“Don’t you think I’m trying, you slagging fool!? This is your fault! I am NOT delusional, or crazy, or any of those things you idiots want to think!” Starscream growled while throwing his servos around wildly in his sudden burst of anger. The others were coming upon them after having sprung to their peds at his outburst. For once, a large crowd of optics on him was the last thing he wanted. This was bad. If Megatron wasn’t going to be sent to blast him into next week, he certainly was now. They’d stick him with that needle again. He needed to get this blasted power under control. But it just kept cycling in on itself. He felt tired. Yet overcharged all at once. 

Bumblebee put his servos up in some form of surrender but his vocalizer betrayed his own frustration, “How is it my fault??”

“Let me try!” It was Hashtag. “Okay, there’s a 5 point countdown grounding thing I found.” She knelt down a couple hics away as she held up her servos. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Starscream stared at her with confusion addled with frustration as his optics flickered, but managed to answer, “...Six.”

“What color’s my paint?”

“Violet.”

“What about yours?”

“Red…blue, yellow–” This seemed stupid.

“Good. How about four things you can feel right now?”

The burning in his spark was slowly beginning to subside. Starscream intentionally scraped his servo down his faceplate to distinctly connect the sensation in his processor. He couldn’t name those things, could he? Not the lingering pain in his patched wing. Or the crick in his knee joint. Those things would surely elicit an awkward reaction.

After his silence, Hashtag continued on with her strange strategy. “What about three things you can hear? Like my voice right now.”

“I suppose…Bumblebee's incessant tapping of his ped. Or perhaps the fact that those lights over there are emitting a ridiculous affront to music.”

Hashtag laughed at his apparent audacity, “Hey, that’s our LED stereo and that music is awesome! I think you could grow to appreciate the glory that is Hatsune Miku. She’s kinda like us! I mean, in a way…”

“What is the point of this…?” Starscream’s wings clicked back into their neutral position as the last traces of lightning retreated from them, and he straightened his posture.

“Well, he stopped tweaking out, so I guess it worked.” Thrash noted with an air of surprise, “Nice work sis.”

Hashtag grinned with a bit of pride as she put her servos on her hips, and kept her focus on Starscream. “To get ya out of your head! See? You don’t have that weird red junk all over you anymore.”

Starscream blinked and realized that he did in fact feel far calmer than he had just moments before. He looked down at his servo and tested the workings of his now only slightly shaking digits. “Hm…” He hummed with the intent of adding something further, but became transfixed with the strangeness of the whole interaction. Thus only continued to blankly stare at his servo, for a long, arduous stint of silence before he found the words. “Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”

“No problem.” Hashtag had a rather sorrowful look in her optics as she brought her servos up to hug her frame again. What was that about?

Starscream narrowed his optics at the group. “Don’t tell Megatron about this.” He phrased it as a stern warning, despite knowing his inability to make threats at the moment.

“Still afraid of ol’ Megs there Screamer?” Bumblebee had a quirk of amusement on his faceplate, even as there was that odd, pitying expression lingering behind it as he crossed his arms. 

Starscream scoffed, but moved on. Any topic but that. He could deal with it at a time that decidedly wasn’t now. “What is this Miku you speak of Hashtag? Perhaps you could attempt to convince me.”

Hashtag’s attention perked and she bounced in place, “Oh that is SUCH the rabbit hole–” She whipped out her datapad and ushered him to follow her to some sort of seating area. “Get ready to be absolutely dazzled by the sickest lore and the most bangin’ of bops!”

Starscream followed and sat by her side as the crowd began to find their own places again. “That could be questionable, but I suppose that is what you will be attempting to convert me into believing.” He grinned at her in a way that encouraged a challenge. “Try me.”

After a surprisingly long and passionate presentation; he couldn’t say that he was wholly convinced of why this Hatsune Miku character deserved to be on such a pedestal with millions of mindless followers. Although he could admit that some of the messages were rather intriguing. And some of the music, not half bad. He might even consider a servoful of them borderline good. Particularly that “Rolling Girl” one. 

Perhaps between Hashtag and that Nightshade Terran, Starscream might actually be able to stay sane in the Autobot’s newest prison. At least there was some semblance of room to move. At least he wouldn’t be alone. 

He could focus on the rest later.

[cursivebloodlines]

"I know. I know, me too," Zoe responded earnestly, running a hand through his hair comfortingly. She was taken aback by the question, even if she should have seen it coming, really. Letting her hand fall down then, she deeply considered her next response. Of course, she was all 'we should talk things out' until the conversation topic reverted back to her. It was a completely normal thing for him to ask and deep down, Zoe knew she could tell Eric anything. But what good would it do in the end? It wouldn't change what's already been done. And to top it all off, he was already not in the best of places, his mind reeling with a lot. Dumping all of her crap on him was a cruel thing to burden him with. That's what she told herself anyway, to make herself feel better about avoiding talking about it. "It means... exactly that," she said, plain and simple, as though she was saying something obvious such as 'the sky is blue'. Not meeting his eyes as she spoke, though. A momentary silence settled then, and Zoe fidgeted a little, taking a moment to clear her throat before peering back at him with apprehension. "It doesn't matter anymore. Besides, we're meant to be focusing on you. Aren't we?" She added, a hint of a smile tracing her lips, a silent plea to just... take her word for it. Hoping he would take it for now. As far as she was concerned, there was a time and a place for this and that wasn't here and now. (In her case, usually, the time was never and the place was nowhere... but Eric didn't need to know that.

The whole situation was a mess. She knew that. It would take a toll on any normal person, that was for sure. But as she liked to remind herself - and him - that they had each other. They were in this together. Completely. All in. And that was enough. "Fine, fineee, you're right," she surrendered with a quiet laugh. Unlike her to be caving in so easily but he did have a point. Even as much as she hated to admit it, she did like reassurance. A lot. Especially when she knew it was authentic; from him. Zoe was just...not the best at communicating when she needed that. A simple act may have solved a lot of problems in the past if she just asked for what she needed whenever she needed it.

But that was her fatal flaw in the end. She wasn't good at asking. Instead, she excelled at jumping to conclusions in her own warped, damaged mind; always convincing herself people thought the worst of her when all she was trying to do was survive and exist and make it through life one day at a time. And getting defensive because of it.

"I can't be the only one who thinks that. I know I'm not. Besides, you're not a mind reader! How can you possibly know whether or not everyone else thinks you're crazy? Over seven billion people on this planet... that's a lot of people who think you're crazy..." Zoe retorted, another laugh escaping her, stroking his cheek lovingly, just appreciating this quiet moment.

Until of course, she did was she always did best -- ruin the moment. In that reckless brain of hers, the small jokes never lasted for long. Maybe it was a consequence of everything. It was a lot to grasp her mind around, and at that moment she was completely torn. Torn between wanting to get out and being in the open. The fact Eric even suggested it, a road trip, meant everything to her. It was all she wanted - for fresh air, to breathe. But now it was like a switch has been flicked, changing her mind within an instant because she once again was assuming the worst. Assuming that Eric (Eric!! Of all people!!) would purposely say something to hurt her. About to storm out of the room, it was his words that stopped her in her tracks. Was he being for real? Or was he acting clueless on purpose to rile her up even more? That didn't sound right in the slightest. Other people, maybe. But not him. Either way, it was simply impossible for her to calm her short fuse.

Zoe whipped around to face him, not having realised he was standing directly behind her. "What's wrong? What's wrong?! Really I- ugh!" She huffed in frustration, taking a step back to create a bit more space between them. "This isn't about the road trip or the stupid fucking pizza!" The words were flying out a mile a minute, unable to restrain herself. "Why did you have to say it like that? Before I run off?" Zoe said the latter part in a pathetic attempt at impersonating him, his voice, flinging her hands around imitating air quotes. "Before I run off... again. Like...like before." She paused then, giving herself a second to try and swallow the lump forming in her throat, her voice starting to waver. "I thought we were past that by now. Or are you just going to keep reminding me of that one mistake and rub it in my face for the rest of our lives? Have I got to spend my whole life making up for it?!"

Eric listened attentively, and her words dripped with sincerity. He couldn't help but believe her. Part of him wanted to protest, be realistic once more, but he was exhausted. He just didn't have the energy to fight it. Stil, his curiosity was piqued. What did she mean by that, that she'd dealt with much worse? "I believe you, I feel better just with you around." He debated asking, was this the right time? There might not be another time though. "What does that mean, that you've dealt with much worse?"

A small smile came quickly to his lips as she leaned into his touch. Seeing her like this was breaking his heart. This is when he saw just how bad things have gotten, how much this situation had placed on them. "Don't lie to me, we both need reassurance...we're navigating a lot." His hands still cupping her face, Eric leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Only you think I'm not crazy," he almost teased, his forehead leaning against hers. He hoped his plan was good, it was a start and if this outing went well, hopefully they could find other times to step outside. The last thing he wanted to do was keep her captive.

Eric couldn't help but notice the lack of reaction at the mention of his parents. Sure, it was a complicated relationship, but the bond still had to mean something. He wondered if her relationship with her parents had been more complex. It was embarrassing to admit that he didn't know much about them. If he was remembering correctly, Zoe had once mentioned they both passed. Perhaps, he should consider that - letting his parents metaphorically die. He had done it some time ago, but situations like these, where their lives were at risk...it made it impossible to ignore. "Yes, that's what I needed to hear...thank you love."

Her smile faded and his mind quickly came up with possible answers, why the change in attitude. Was it the road trip mention, she didn't want to go with him? It was a big ask after all. Asking her to leave everything, just for him. His own smile left his lips, "what's wrong? Did I say something? We don't...we don't have to go. It is a big ask, I don't know what I was thinking." Eric quickly stood up, right behind her. It was a matter of time, that he'd say something and upset her. But he didn't think that his suggestion was the thing to do it. Eric couldn't help but feel heartache. "Hey, come on..what's wrong? We can forget it, the whole roadtrip thing. I will figure something else out. Everything was okay..what about the pizza?"

[papaya-047]

Hi!!

This is my first time asking something but could you do a Ron weasley x reader where they both are Quidditch players maybe different houses even!!

and they have fun in the quidditch closet! (fluff or smut whatever you want!!)

The most smut i will do is PG-13 lmao, we are a family friendly blog over here. Am I good at writing anything remotely smutty? No. so this what you get. 

This was going to be the worst practice ever, you've been begging for friendly matches to stop since you got on the team but they never were quite friendly. The last friendly game was against Slytherin and they did not hold back. You walked out of that practice with a black eye and a sprained wrist. At least this was just for fun, and since having fun was one of two reasons you wanted to do quidditch in the first place you try to make the best of it. Especially since the other reason is on the team you're playing against. 

Hurrying out of your dorm you stumble your way to the quidditch field, struggling to lug your equipment around the campus. “Need a hand?” A deep voice spoke over your head. Ron.

“I’m fine.” you said, your broom in one hand and an overstuffed duffle in the other, all dragging behind you. 

“Clearly,” the sarcasm in his voice was obvious. Without warning the bag was lifted out of your hand and you were free to hold your broom without it touching the floor. 

“You know if you keep dragging it like that you're doing to damage the bristles on the broom.” 

You laugh, “what's that gonna do? Make it less aerodynamic?” you ask sarcastically.

“Yes,” he said shortly. “Or you know what you should probably keep dragging it, it'll make it easier to beat you.”

“Please you don't need the help, I don’t try at these things.” Trying to keep up with Rons strides proved to be a bit of a challenge. He was walking at a lethargic speed but the length of his steps were worth 3 of yours. 

“That's too bad I was looking forward to playing you,” he said through a smile. You felt your face grow hot. “And a friendly game means you won’t kick my ass.”

You laughed, “what makes you think I would kick your ass at all?” 

“Your track record,” you looked at him confused. “Do you really not remember? First year? And Second, third and fourth?” You shook your head. “Well I guess the trauma seared it into my memory,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “oh don't be dramatic. I never did anything that bad.” 

Still smiling, Ron looked down at you for the first time since you started walking, “No, just tackled me a lot.” 

“In first year? When I was learning how to fly? You still remember that?” you shouted mortified as the flood of embarrassment came rushing back. 

“When your crush lands on top of you, your 11 year old boy brain tends to think about it a lot.” he laughed.

“You had a crush on me?” 

“Wasn't it obvious? I nearly failed every class we had together because I was so busy staring at you.”

You tried your best to remember your first year classes, but any of Rons “obvious” behavior was not something your first year self ever picked up on, “I can safely say I didn't notice.”

“Why did you think I needed so much help in every subject?” 

“You're an idiot?” you asked through a muted laugh.

“No, I just spent every class paying attention to you instead of the material. So when you practically obsess over someone and they continuously struggle to balance on a broom, you hope to be put in a position that you might end up with said person on top of…” his voice tapered off. Cheeks red, refusing to make eye contact. He clearly didn't mean for that word vomit to come out, but up until he stopped talking you assumed those feelings had stopped after the first year, but now you're not so sure. 

“So what about second, third and fourth year?” you tried to move the conversation along wanting to casually move past what Ron just said, he was clearly embarrassed and you didn't want to make things worse. 

The two of you reached the quidditch field, the sight of fluttering robes and the distant echoes of laughter filling the air. Ron scratched his head, and avoided your gaze.  "Well, second year was all about the dueling club," he began, trying to regain composure. "Remember when I was petrified? You visited me in the hospital wing. I was so out of it and used to being tackled that I thought you were going to hex me." 

You chuckled at the memory. "As if I would hex you. Besides, I couldn't resist visiting the famous Ron Weasley,” you put on a mocking tone, “you were always up to something.”

“I still am.” he mumbled under his breath. Clearing his throat “in third year I convinced myself you hated me and fourth year, well I spilt my drink on you at the yule ball so I was certain you hated me.” 

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Oh my god,. How could I forget?” the Yule ball was a bottle of embarrassment you did not want to revisit. No one asked to go with you and the moment you thought a certain ginger was going to ask you to dance he spilled his drink all over you, “You know I stole that robe from professor sprout?”

Ron stopped in his place, “That was Sprout’s?” he raised his voice in shock.

“Yep,” you chuckled, “Do you even remember what it looks like?” 

“Of course I do!” he exclaimed, before calming himself down, “Although in my memory it’s covered in fruit punch.” Ron continued walking to bring your stuff over to where your team was setting up. You noticed how much slower he’d gotten, it was much easier to keep up. 

“I technically didn't steal it, I just borrowed it and had my dormmate alter it a bit.”

“Well they did a bloody good job, you looked hot.” Ron said before he could stop himself, “I-I mean,” he stuttered, “you looked good.” changing his tone.

You smirked at Ron stopping in the middle of the field. "Hot, huh?" you teased, enjoying the rosy tint that crept across Ron's cheeks.

Ron stumbled over his words, "No, not hot. Definitely not hot." trying to backtrack. Your face fell slightly, making him panic even more. “Not that you're not hot! You’re so hot it's crazy!”

Suddenly, in the midst of their walk, Ron tripped over a loose cobblestone and by instinct grabbed you for balance. But instead of regaining his footing, the unexpected momentum sent both of you tumbling forward.

As you crashed to the ground, and somehow you found yourself sprawled on top of Ron, his laughter echoing yours in the crisp air. "You definitely need balance training,” you quipped through laughter, but he wasn't laughing. Your duffle had been flung above his head, and his hands had instinctively grasped for you, firmly planted around your waist, and for a moment, you both lay there, catching your breath and sharing a moment of sheer hilarity.

Your laughter subsided, replaced by silence as you gazed into each other's eyes. “Just like old times, eh?” You tried to lighten the tension. He didn't reply, lost in your eyes seemingly unable to speak. “Ron? Are you oka-”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted. Rushing the words as if he had been building up the courage to speak. 

“On the field?” Ron shot up, nearly shoving you off of him. He quickly picked up your things and tried to avoid eye contact. This time he picked up your broom as well and we was off to your team's changing rooms to drop your things off. This time his pace was far from lethargic, he may as well have been running, that would be the only way you could ever keep up with him. “Ron?” you shouted as you jogged after him trying to catch up.  

Once you got to the changing rooms your team whispered at the sight of gryffindors keeper in their rooms. “Here you go,” dropping your things on the side and rushing out. You grabbed his arm. He was red and looking anywhere but your eyes. Your team began filling out the room to begin warming up as they called you to hurry and get dressed. 

You dragged Ron further into the room, “Listen Ron-”

“You don't need to say it, I'm sorry. It was an accident and it'll never happen again. The last thing I ever want to do is make you uncomfortable.” he was rambling, “and you can ignore what i said, i saw a pretty girl on top of me and i wasn't thinking. Not that I think you're pretty! Not that you're not pretty! Oh god-” you crashed your lips into his, an effective way to shut him up. He was tense with surprise before melting into the kiss as you pulled him closer by his shirt, his hand cupped your face, his arm wrapped around your waist drawing you in. He turned you, pinning you against the wall as his kiss deepened. His knee rose up to rest between your legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

The whistle blew outside, pulling you away from the kiss as you hear your captain shouting your name. You sigh disappointedly. You turn back to Ron, who was staring at you, you giggled nervously, “what?”

“I take it back, I think you're very pretty.” You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. 

[bldhrry]

The Brute and The Scholar

Chapter Ten | The Story of Us Cassian x Fem!Reader Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Series Masterlist | General Masterlist

word count: 10.4k

warnings: alcohol, cursing (i think? i can't remember and i don't feel like reading through it again lmao), mention of sex

author's note: this has been done for a bit but i didn't have time to finish it. chapter eleven is almost done so that will be posted soon. the semester starts next week so i won't have as much time to work on this but i will def try! this chapter is a bit of a filler chapter and next one too but things will pick up again. lmk what you think :)

Nobody was expected to work the day after Starfall which you were grateful for.

You had told your mother everything only after omitting what had happened initially on the balcony.  She didn’t say anything.  Instead she just listened and looked at you with an unreadable expression, her eyes shaded with an emotion you couldn’t name.

Your mother knew this would come.  As someone who had a mate for almost six hundred years she recognized the signs.  Cassian’s consistent presence was the first sign; he was always searching for you even when you weren’t supposed to be working.  He’d come to the door and ask to see you, using the excuse that it was for work but he never brought any materials with him.  But she entertained him and revealed your location.  Perhaps it was meddling but Cassian was nice and even if her suspicions were wrong he was a good friend to you and she knew how desperately you needed that.

She understood your reaction to the bond and she knew where your rejection stemmed from.  It wasn’t a rejection of Cassian but a rejection of allowing yourself to have anything good in your life.  You blamed yourself for your father’s death, something she wished she could take from you.  It wasn’t your fault.  Neither of you were a match for Hybern’s forces.  But no reassurance from her helped the guilt you felt, so you’ve lived since that day secluded into yourself.  You declined invitations to go out with your friends and did what you thought was expected of you which was finish school to attend college and get a job.  You denied yourself any form of enjoyment and it hurt her to see and she did try to encourage you but you were smooth with your excuse that you didn’t have time or didn’t want to but she saw through the lies but knew better than to press the issue.

“Will you speak with him?”  Your mother asked timidly as you helped her clean the dishes from lunch.

“There’s nothing else left to say.”

“And work?”

“My personal life and professional life are separate.  I’m sure he,” you cleared your throat at the mention of Cassian and continued.  “I’m sure he’s the same way.”  You gave your mother a reassuring smile and continued to dry the plate in your hands.

Your mother let out a sad, quiet sigh and watched you methodically dry and put away the plates and cups.  You were so detached and your ability to do so was something you had carefully crafted over the years and no amount of coaxing talks from both your mother and father would bring you out of your shell.  

It didn’t make sense that you were this way.  Your mother and father were patient and understanding parents and incredibly attentive so your aversion to their touch and attempts at open and honest conversations was concerning.  Had they done something wrong?  They had discussed it at lengths but you’d always been like that since the moment you were born.  So quiet and observant and you never cried; it stressed your mother out because babies were supposed to be loud but you never were.  You kept to yourself, always entertained by playing on the floor with your toys, never expressing any want for company; when she forced a friend upon you when you first started school you had begged your mother to send her home.  But as you got older and especially after the death of your father it got worse and you constantly lived behind a mask.  Your mother had learned that you would come to her when you were ready so she waited and you did but not as often as she would have liked.

You laid down after lunch and sleep took you quickly, the exertion of crying and feeling leaving you exhausted.  But being unconscious was worse than being conscious because you dreamed of Cassian.  You didn’t dream of what had happened, but you dreamed of a time you two had lunch, months ago.  

You were seated by the window of an almost empty restaurant.  Cassian was talking about growing up with Rhysand and Azriel and then about how annoying Nesta was and you listened intently and watched him even more so.  

He spoke with his hands and in between stories he’d take a bite of his food and you watched that too.  His bites were enormous filling his entire mouth and yet he still tried to speak through the food and you gave him a look of disgust.

“You’re stuck up.”  He had joked after swallowing and downing an entire class of water and you just huffed at him and looked out the window.

“Do you chew your food?”  You asked after a moment of silence and Cassian was holding his sandwich in the air with his mouth open, ready to take another bite.

“What?”

“Do you chew?”  You turned your head to look at him and tilted your head.  “You don’t seem to chew.”

He looked flabbergasted.  “I chew my food.”  

“I’ve never seen it.  It looks like you just stuff your face and swallow.  Do you even taste it?”

Cassian laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and placed his hand on his stomach.  “What kind of fucking question is that?”

You frowned at him, not appreciating the way he was not taking you seriously.

“It’s a valid question.  You have no table manners; you’re like some brute that was raised by wolves.  You eat every meal like it’s your first.”  It was true.  He was a messy eater with crumbs all over the table and bits of sauce on the corners of his mouth and if he was in a rush sometimes it’d get on his chin.  You hated it and resisted the urge to wipe his face clean.

Cassian’s eyes were bright as the sun entering the window shone on them, brightening the green and brown that swirled in them today.  Normally you saw gold too but not today for some reason.

“Sorry not everyone is some scholar who read about table manners to pass the time.”  He said, using air quotations.

He took a bite and stared at you, showing you that he did in fact chew his food.  

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, fighting back a smile.

You woke up with the sound of Cassian’s laughter echoing in your head.

You’d slept for longer than you intended as it was now almost four in the morning.  You sat up in your bed and rubbed your face.  You had a massive headache and your body ached and that’s when you noticed that your bed was wet and so were your thighs and you realized you’d started your cycle.

“My fucking gods,” and your groan turned into a whine as pain shot through you when you stood up.

Your gut stirred as you changed your clothes and sheets but you ignored it.  The feeling intensified as you felt a tug and a greeting floated through your head, the voice barely intelligible.  You ignored it again.

Are you okay?  The voice was clearer now and it was raspy with sleep.

You gave it no response.

Stop ignoring me. I just want to know you’re okay.  He sounded agitated and sure enough annoyance flowered in your chest.

You took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose.  I’m fine,.  The annoyance turned into gratitude.

Good. A moment of silence and you thought he’d left but then he spoke again.  Why are you in pain?

You frowned.  I’m not.

I can feel it Y/N.

You sucked your teeth and now it was your turn to be aggravated and you should’ve ignored him and allowed the silence to reiterate your rejection but you found yourself responding anyway.  I slept funny.

Did you sleep well, though?

You yanked the sheet over the corner of your mattress and cracked your jaw.  You wanted him to leave you alone like he had the entire day.  You wanted him to just go back to sleep or go back to whatever he was doing and forget about this ridiculous form of communication that was now open to you both.

Did you hear me?

You fluffed the comforter and huffed.  Impossible not to.

Cassian laughed and the sound sent a tingle down your spine and you rolled your head side to side to get rid of the feeling.  But your true emotion seeped through and you cursed yourself for caving for something so miniscule and you cursed yourself even more for the fact that you knew Cassian could feel it.  You loved his laugh.  It was always so hearty, making his entire body shake with the sound like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.  You would hide your smile every time he’d laugh at something you’d say; you felt proud to make him smile so wide.

There she is, Cassian purred and you winced at the way it sent shockwaves through your body.

You were fighting so hard to not feel anything and it was agonizing.  The part you were playing was exhausting but so necessary to keep you and him safe.  He didn’t realize it but you were doing him a favor, saving him from yourself.

You closed your side of the bond quickly, not giving him a chance to feel the glow that was cracking through your walls.

You didn’t go to work the next day or the day after or the day after that.

Your cycle was tearing you apart and the pain and flow were unbearable.  Feyre hadn’t cared when you told her and she told you to take as much time as you needed and part of her wondered if you were avoiding Cassian but your pale face told her you were telling the truth.

Cassian waited for you every morning at the front door of the River House waiting to see you round the bend and walk up the path but you never did.

Feyre found him leaning against the window of the foyer on the second day and she walked up to him and bumped his side.

“She’s not coming.”  She told him.  Her tone was soft, sympathetic even.  She could only imagine just how difficult this was for him.

“She’s still sick?”  He asked and Feyre hummed in response.  He snorted but kept looking just in case you did appear.  He didn’t want to miss it.

“She really is.  Should’ve seen her the other day, I’m surprised she made it here.”

Cassian’s eyes shot down to look at his friend and panic spread in his chest.  “Is she okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Feyre waved her hand, waving away his concern. “Give her a week or so and she’ll be fine.”

Cassian couldn’t understand how she was so sure you’d overcome your sickness so soon and he wondered what she knew that he didn’t.

“Have you spoken to her since that night?”

“The night after but that was it.  She woke me up, by accident I think, and I tried to talk with her but she didn’t really seem to want to and then she just stopped.”  Cassian shrugged.  “I think she went to sleep.”

He knew you hadn’t.  You had shut yourself off with so much vigor that he knew you’d done it on purpose but it helped him to think that maybe you hadn’t and maybe there was a chance that you two could come out of this together.

Feyre nodded like she was deep in thought.  “She’ll be back.”  She gave him a smile and squeezed his arm and left, leaving him to monitor the front lawn.

The next day, when you didn’t show up again, Cassian started to grow impatient.  You’d not shown up for work before with a cold in late Fall and a migraine last month and that period of time during your training sessions.  But you’d never been gone for this long.

“I’m gonna head out.”  Cassian announced, getting up from his seat in Rhysand’s office.  

The entire Inner Court, minus you, were gathered for a meeting to discuss the war camps.  The conversation had dulled down and everyone was just having meaningless conversations about upcoming plans and what they were going to have for dinner.

“Where?”  Mor asked with a skeptical tone.

“Out.”

“You going for lunch?  I’m kind of hungry.”  She twirled her blonde hair around her finger.

“Yeah, me too.”  Lucien echoed and Elain nodded her head beside him.

“I’m just going out.”  He gave everyone an appeasing smile and headed for the door.

Amren snorted from her perch by the window.  “He better leave that girl alone.  I really think she would take his head if he keeps bothering her.”

Cassian stopped to pick up the soup you liked and flowers that were the same color as the walls in your room and headed for your house.

He’d tugged on the bond everyday, giving you time to respond but you never did.  It was discouraging and upsetting and overall saddening and he missed you.  He missed you so much it was unfathomable and it made him lazy, doing nothing but waiting for time to pass until you spoke to him again.

The curtains were drawn when he approached your front door which was unusual as they were usually open by now as it was almost noon.  Nevertheless, Cassian knocked on the door and took a step back, waiting for it to open and praying to all that was Holy that he’d finally break the streak of not seeing you.

The knock on the door didn’t wake you up but rather it was Mittens, who was sleeping in her bed near the fireplace, when she started quaking and ran for the door.

You’d fallen asleep on the couch earlier that morning after reading a few pages of a book Nesta had given you.  Another romance novel that nearly had you kicking your feet and giggling as the main characters finally confessed their feelings after nearly four hundred pages of a slow burn romance filled with pining and yearning that was strictly forbidden.

You groaned and stretched before getting up, gripping the armrest for support.  Mittens circled you, continuing her incessant quaking and you hushed her and waved her away.

Wrapping your arms around yourself you headed for the door and opened it without a second thought and you were genuinely surprised to see Cassian standing there, his signature smile plastered on his face holding flowers in one hand and a brown bag in the other.

You stared at him and slowly blinked and when you realized he was actually on your doorstep with an expectant look on his face you frowned.

“What?”

“I heard you were sick.  I wanted to come and check on you.”

“Well, you’ve checked and I’m fine.”  You started to shut the door but his voice stopped you.

“Are you hungry?  I brought soup.”  He lifted the bag for proof and you sighed.

“I’m not, but thanks though.”

“You sure?  It’s the soup you like from O’Brien’s.”  He gave you a weak smile and outstretched his arm that was holding the bag.

“I’m fine, Cassian,” you huffed and before you could shut the door there was the quick rhythm of padding feet and Mittens ran out the door, quacking all the way.

Cassian jumped back and the duck ran down the path aiming for the grass where she began to pick at it.

“Godsdamnit,” you muttered and rushed out, brushing past Cassian who quickly followed after setting the items he was holding on your doorstep.

“Mittens, come here.”  You snapped and pointed at the ground at your feet but the duck waddled away in defiance and you followed her.  “For the love of the fucking Mother,” you muttered as you reached for her but she ran off again and headed towards Cassian.

“Can you grab her please?”  You asked with a twinge of desperation.  You were in so much pain and too tired for Mittens’ antics.

He chuckled and knelt down and Mittens observed him, giving him a few quacks and he stroked the top of her head.  Unbeknownst to him that was her favorite spot to be pet and she started to wiggle her backside in appreciation.

You sighed, moving your hair out of your face as you bent over and picked her up, groaning as you straightened yourself.  You were feeling faint and while the air was cool the sun was not and its heat was making you nauseous.

Cassian got up and resumed stroking Mittens and smiled to himself.  “I’ve never seen her before.”

You moved away from him and headed towards the door.  “She normally stays in the garden unless she wants to come inside.”

“Wants to?”  He laughed behind you and you shot him a look.

“Yes.  She has free will.  We don’t keep her out in the garden for convenience.  She goes when she wants and comes when she wants.”

He grinned at your tone and as he bent down to pick up the flowers and soup he tugged on the bond, caressing it slightly.

There she is.

Your steps faltered slightly at the feeling but you composed yourself as you walked back into the house and you were shocked again to see Cassian follow you inside and kicked the door closed.

“You cannot just come in here uninvited.”  You declared as you watched him shut the door with his foot.

He looked at you bewildered and then he blushed and gave you a sheepish smile.  “Force of habit.”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted Mittens in your arms.  “Get out.”

Cassian wanted to protest and insist on ensuring that you ate and had everything you needed.  But he knew that was the last thing he should do and if he was going to succeed in winning you back he had to be patient and calm.

“Do you want the stuff I brought you?”

Your eyes narrowed at his outstretched hands and then at the flowers and the brown takeout bag and you clicked your tongue.  “No,” you started, turning away from him to put Mittens back in her bed.  “Take it with you and shut the door on your way out.”

His arms fell and you both felt the bond shiver in your chest, a sense of dread creeping through it.

“Please?”

“Cassian, please.  Don’t start with me.  Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”  You placed your hand on your forehead and took a deep breath.  You were feeling more sick with each passing minute and Cassian’s presence, ever so overwhelming, was not helping.

“I’ll just put it in the kitchen and you can-”

You cut him off and put your hand in the air.  “Cassian for fu-”  You stopped and put your hand out to steady yourself but with nothing to hold on to you stumbled, nearly tripping over your feet.

“Woah,”  Cassian rushed towards you, throwing the flowers and bag on the coffee table.  He grabbed your hands and held you upright, immediately rubbing his thumbs atop your hands.  “Hey,” he breathed out and cupped your cheek to make you look at him and when you did your eyes were unfocused and you swayed slightly.  “What’s going on?”

You hummed and closed your eyes, trying to reorient yourself but your head was spinning and your stomach was flipping and you were hot all over.

“I have to throw up,” you finally announced.

Cassian spent the next ten minutes holding your hair as you emptied your stomach into the toilet.  He had rubbed your back in the beginning but you jerked away and muttered a ‘fuck off’ so now he just held your hair from a distance and waited.  

You spit into the toilet and slumped down beside it, exhausted and sore and Cassian placed his hands gently on your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Get out of my house.”

He snorted.  “When you’re not dying, sure.”

You groaned.  You needed him gone and far away from you even if it was the last thing you wanted.  “I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure, sweetheart.”

He helped you up and you flushed the toilet and jerked away from him.  He let you, watching you the entire time.

“Leave.”  You called over your shoulder as you made your way to the couch.

He followed diligently.  “Will you eat before I leave?”

“You don’t get to make requests in my home.”

He frowned; he wanted to persist that you ate to ensure you didn’t get sick again.  He knew how stubborn you were and he knew you wouldn’t eat unless prompted because of your frequent tendency of forgetting.  He’d seen you go an entire day without eating and when he finally mentioned it you gave him a look of surprise, telling him that you hadn’t even thought about it.  He worried about it at first but soon realized it wasn’t anything malicious and that you genuinely would forget.  He’d never seen anything like it but again he’d never met anyone like you.

He sighed through his nose and ignored you as he opened the bag and pulled out the containers: one for you and one for him.  You favored the vegetable cream soup and always cleared your bowl when you had it, humming the entire time and sometimes even rocking in your seat.  You hated restaurants and braved it for the sake of everyone else but O’Briens was the only place you would willingly eat at.

“Why don’t you fucking listen to me?”  You muttered, sitting down and wrapping a blanket around yourself.

He didn’t respond.  Instead Cassian just pushed the container towards you and took a seat at the edge of the table.  He glanced between you and the container expectantly.

You scoffed and looked at him with wide eyes.  “You are out of your fucking mind.  I said leave.”

“You are being a lot meaner than usual,” he mused, prying the lid off and waving away that heat that rose out of it.

You didn’t respond.  You couldn’t stop staring at him.  You could barely register his audacity and it angered you to your core.  But you also couldn’t help but notice how good he looked today.  He recently shaved and his aftershave was strong, making you flare your nostrils in a weak attempt to smell it even more.  He wore a tight fitting black shirt and a hooded flannel lined with soft, puffy fabric.  His hair was a mess per usual and you assumed it was from the wind as he flew from the House of Wind to the River House and then from his walk to your house.  Despite its tousled look it was still marvelous because somehow it looked like it was done on purpose.

“What’s wrong with you anyway?”  He asked nonchalantly, not looking at you.

“I’m sick.”

“With what?”

“Oh my gods.”  You laughed and ran your hand through your hair.

I can’t believe you, you shot through the bond as you were too lost for verbal remark.

He grinned over the rim of the container.  I’m glad you haven’t forgotten about this.

You gasped, your aggravation turning into fury and as you two stared at each other and his gaze softened and he tilted his head, considering you in this gods awful state you were in.  You looked like you hadn’t left your bed in days, which you hadn’t.  Your hair was all over the place and you had tucked it behind your ears, trying to make it presentable.  You wore an oversized shirt and pants and if he looked close enough, which he tried not to, you weren’t wearing a bra and your breasts were much larger than they usually were.  You had bags under your eyes and he noticed that every time you shifted on the couch you winced like it pained you to move just one centimeter.  Despite it all you looked beautiful, radiant even.

“You’re antagonizing me.”  You meant to say it with a harsh tone but it came out weak, like you were sad.  And you were sad.  Distance from him was horrible and you felt more lonely than you usually did.  

He gave you a sad smile and forgot that he was supposed to be treading lightly.  “I don’t mean to.  It’s just that I love-”  

“Please don’t,” you interrupted him and Cassian’s face fell, like you had stabbed him where it hurt the most.

Cassian averted his gaze in shame.  “Sorry.”

“Not everybody wants this and you need to realize that.  It’s best to just ignore it and forget about it and just move on.  I’m sure there’s somebody else.”  You hoped you sounded convincing.  You’d practice the speech over and over in your head, wanting to make sure that when the time finally came where you would tell him you wouldn’t break.  The first few times you’d thought about it you had started crying, your body’s natural instinct fighting against your decision to reject it all.

This made him look up at you so quickly that he nearly fell off the table.  Were you serious right now?  Were you seriously trying to encourage him and maybe even you to find other people?  His chest heaved up and down as he studied your earnest expression.

“You can’t be fucking serious, Y/N.”

You licked your lips and swallowed, studying a painting on the wall behind him.  “I am.  I think that given we’re at odds with each other we should just,” you moved your hands in a parting motion.  “Move forward with our lives.”

“Enough.”  He snarled and he saw you shrink into the couch.  Cassian tried to regain control of himself again, reminding himself that this was just as hard for you as it was for him and maybe even more so; that the feelings you were experiencing and the reactions you were having were not your fault and were completely valid in feeling it all and you needed time and he needed to give you that.  You clearly were not the emotional type and it was evident that you were career focused, something he admired about you.  You didn’t seem to bend easily to attention, ignoring Eris and Tarquin’s advances.  You mainly did it because you didn’t notice it but also because there was no reason to; you were working and that was your main priority.  Everything else was secondary.  But he found that hard to do, hard to rationalize, when you sat in front of him giving him a rehearsed speech.

He didn’t respond.  He had nothing to say that wouldn’t result in you screaming and crying at him like you had the other night.  You would beseech him to the ends of the world if he told you that he wouldn’t give up and that he was yours even if you weren’t his.

He tugged on the bond and you jerked in your seat.  He reminded you that the bond was there, that he was there and it and he weren’t going anywhere.  He would never and that is something he had decided when he met you.  He couldn’t even remember the last female he had looked at or been with because you consumed his every waking thought to the point you were starting to replace any and all memories of things that weren’t about you.

“Eat the fucking soup please.”  He finally said at last as he picked up his container again and took a swing and to his surprise you listened.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep and Cassian didn’t mean to stay until the sun set in the sky and your mother came home from work.

He had thought about leaving once your breathing became deep and your head was rolled to the side but he figured he should clean up before he did so you didn’t have to so he threw away the containers and placed the flowers in an empty vase he saw on the kitchen counter.

Then he noticed how your neck was at an awkward angle and he figured he should get you more comfortable before he left so he coaxed you awake, his hand on your cheek like he’d done the night of Starfall.  Your eyes fluttered open but they were heavy with sleep and they barely registered it was him there.  But you did lean into his hand and sighed, nuzzling into it making Cassian’s chest warm.  He told you your neck would hurt if you didn’t lay down properly and without a word you shimmed down the couch until your head was laid on the pillow and you fell asleep again.

Then Cassian remembered how sick you’d been before and he thought it was possible that you would be sick again so he decided to stay until your mother came back so you’d have someone with you and then he would leave.

So there he sat on an armchair by the back sliding door, watching you sleep.  He watched the rise and fall of your chest and how in the past six hours you hadn’t moved from your side or moved your arms from their tucked in position.  He thought it was weird how still you were when you were asleep and he remembered when you laid asleep next to him months ago when you were in whatever hole you’d crawled into and how you did the side thing: asleep on your side with your arms and legs tucked in.

Mittens stayed in her bed which he also thought was odd because the ducks he’d seen were active and loud and left droppings indiscriminately but she was almost like a dog, staying close to her master.  Her head was tucked under her wing and every now and then she’d make a noise like she was dreaming before settling down again.

When your mother approached the front door, Mittens was quick to get up and make her way to the door, letting out quiet quacks.  She hovered around the door as it cracked open and he saw your mother’s foot shooing her away.  When she came in she jumped slightly at Cassian and he gave her an apologetic smile.

“Cassian,”  she smiled back, hanging her purse on the hooks by the door.  “You’re here.”

He laughed through your nose and his eyes drifted to your figure.  “I hadn’t seen her in a few days.  Just wanted to check in.”

She hummed quietly and eyed him and then at you.  She was surprised you had let him in with how persistent you’d been that you wanted nothing to do with him and the bond.  She didn’t say that though; she kept that information to herself and instead she asked how you were.

“Sick earlier.  Was worried about leaving her alone in case it happened again.”  He admitted, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

“She gets like this every time.  She’ll be fine.”  She padded to you and placed her hand on the top of your head and then on your forehead.

She wanted to ask about the bond and if you two had spoken about it and maybe even offer him some consolation because it was evident that he was lost as his eyes were nearly vacant as he looked at you.  The only emotion your mother could see was a devastating look of longing.  But she wouldn’t betray you and your decision; she would defend and support you regardless and if this was not what you wanted then she wouldn’t get in the way of that.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”  Your mother’s appreciation had a double meaning and Cassian picked up on it and he looked at her with glistening eyes.

“Always.”  And then he left, making his way home with tears streaming down his face.

“So,”  Raquel popped the spoon out of her mouth, “he’s your mate?”

You nodded, stirring your coffee absentmindedly.

You’d brave a lunch date with her when she came that morning, bounding up the cobblestone path.  You were feeling better with only a small ache in your abdomen and lower back.

“How did it happen?”

You blushed and ducked your head.  “We were together.”

“Like together, together?”  She grinned.

“Not…necessarily.”  

She smirked and let out a laugh.  “You’ve finally bloomed.  Everyone is going to be so ecstatic to hear this.”

You groaned.  “We didn’t do it.”  She raised an eyebrow.  “We, you know,” you huffed.  “Did something else.”

“Oh,” she stretched the word out as she realized.  “You or him?  Hand or mouth?”

“Stop,” you whined and covered your face.  “I do not want to talk about it.”

“I haven’t had sex in months!  Let me live vicariously through you.”

“I would rather if you didn’t.”

She shrugged.  “He is hot as shit.  Was he good?”

“Oh my gods Raquel.”

“He looks like he’d be good.  Big too I’d assumed with how big his wings are.  That’s a thing you know, bigger the wings bigger he is down there.”

You let out a high pitched noise from your throat.  You were so embarrassed at the admittance of what you’d done and her constant stream of questions for details was bringing back the memories of that night.  Regret flooded your bloodstream and you kept your face covered.

“Stop.”  You begged, looking at her through your fingers.

She giggled and crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.  It was funny to poke fun at you and see how shy you would get about these topics.  You’d always been like that and her and the rest of the group assumed that was why you’d never done it or anything else for that matter.  The real truth was that you’d never liked anyone, never found anyone attractive or appealing until you met Cassian.

“Fine,” she threw her hands up in defeat.  “Are you considering changing your mind about him and the bond?”

“No.”  You shook your head.  “It’s decided; better that way, anyway.”

“For who?”  Her tone had an accusatory cadence and you glared at her.

“Everybody.”

She scoffed.  “There’s nothing wrong with feeling.”  Her voice grew softer and she gave you a sympathetic look.  “You don’t have to separate yourself from what is natural.”

You set your jaw and flared your nostrils, looking away at the rolling hills in the distance.  “It’s better this way,” you reiterated and she sighed.

Always so methodical, so aloof.  Raquel had envied it at first because she was emotional and quick to anger, ready for a fight even if it wasn’t her own.  But you were always calm, calculating every scenario and gauging the proper response to them but then her envy turned to pity because she saw just how much you distanced yourself from your feelings.  They extended not just to stressful situations but to personal matters, matters that should’ve excited you but you seemed to deny yourself the slightest bit of joy.  Avoiding advances and admiration from the males at school with the excuse that you didn’t have time for it and when your father died you didn’t even cry, opting to stay in a catatonic like state.  At first it was because you saw no reason to dwell on your emotions mainly because you simply didn’t feel them like everybody else.  You were odd in that way, not being able to understand why people felt joy and sadness in some situations when you would feel indifferent to them.  You would feel lost in group settings until you figured out how to pretend and learned when everyone was excited or upset about something.  Soon that distance grew when your father died and it was done on purpose, a punishment for what you’d done.

“He seems kind, though.  Attentive.”  She recalled the day she had seen you and how Cassian had watched the entire time with a silent question in his eyes and she didn’t miss the way you gave him a nonverbal confirmation that you were fine or the way he nodded and returned to the conversation.  That was interesting, she remembered thinking and she became excited at the prospect that you had finally dismantled your mental walls for somebody.  But you hadn’t.  Instead you stood behind them and considered taking them down but you were too scared too and Raquel saw that, how scared you were.  

“Y/N!”  Feyre yelled across the city square and you looked up, giving her a smile and wave.

She held Nyx’s and Rhysand’s hands as the trio made their way over and you stood up to greet them and stopped at the gate of the restaurant’s patio.  You tried to look pleasant but this was the last interaction you wanted to have.  Part of you would have rather dealt with Cassian than Feyre and Rhysand who very much knew what had happened on the balcony; he had even witnessed it and you felt embarrassed all over again.

“Hey guys.”  You breathed out and gave Nyx an additional wave and he beamed up at you.  You avoided Rhysand’s stare, giving him a polite nod, your eyes downcasted.  You felt awkward and ashamed and was sure if given the chance to be alone with you he would fire you.  You hoped if you pretended it didn’t happen then he would too and everyone could move on from the unfortunate incident.

“I’m so glad I saw you.  We’re having a party tonight if you and your friend are interested in coming.”  Feyre spoke, breaking you out of your downward spiral of shame.

Your mouth formed an ‘O’ shape at her invitation and you turned to look at Raquel, silently begging for her to make an excuse as to why neither of you could attend.  But Raquel gave you a wide smile that indicated she was going to do something incredibly cruel.

“I don’t mind.  I have no plans tonight.”

You suppressed a whine and turned around.  “Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Great!  It starts at six.”  She announced and you nodded, thanking her for the information.

You glared at Raquel as you sat down. “What’s your problem?”

She shrugged.  “I wanna meet the guy.”

You didn’t want to admit the fact you were expecting Cassian to show up and walk you to the house.  You also didn’t want to admit the disappointment you felt when he never did.

You and Raquel got ready in your room much like you and the rest of your friend group would do when you were in school with incessant chatter about nothing and everything, the swap of clothes, and the occasional argument about something that would be forgotten minutes later.  It was no different now as she sat on your bed applying makeup and you sat at your desk fixing your hair.

“So,” Raquel started, a mascara wand in her hand.  “What are they like?”

By they she meant the Inner Court and you sighed inwardly.  She had been asking about your newfound coworkers and friends all day and there was only so much information you could give.

“Rhysand is observant, chooses his words carefully but put him with the other males and he gets loud and obnoxious.  Feyre is pleasant and funny.  Elain is quiet but surprising; she’s a seer though so she’s kind of weird.  Lucien is annoying but really smart.  Azriel is off putting but definitely the nicest one.  Amren, you would like, has attitude for days but it’s always directed and deserved.  Mor is just fun and super friendly.”  You fluffed your hair to give it volume and parted it, getting up to grab your makeup bag.

“And Cassian?”

Your grip on the bag fumbled slightly but you recovered quickly and turned from her to sit back down.  You shrugged nonchalantly and gave no response.

“You let him finger you, you have to know him at least a little bit.”

Your chest caved and your face grew hot.  “Shut up.”

She laughed loudly, rummaging through her own makeup bag.  “Always such a prude.”  You ignored the remark and she spoke again.  “Do you like him?”  

“I’m not talking about it,” you said with a pop of your lips as you finished applying your lipgloss.

“It’ll help.”  She crossed her legs as she sat on your bed and looked at you with her chin in her hands.

You snorted.  “What are you?  A psychologist?”

“Almost.”  She grinned.  “I just think if you talked about it then you could figure out why you’re feeling like that about him being your mate.”

You grew cold at the categorizing.  No longer a colleague or friend, he was now your mate.

“I know why and it’s because I don’t want to.  I don’t think I need to explain myself any further.”

She sighed and considered you as you attempted to be relaxed about the entire situation but she knew your tells and you were displaying every single one of them.  She wished she could say she was surprised that this was your reaction, but this was how you reacted to everything.  Normal emotions were foreign to you and you thought yourself too mature to succumb to thoughts and feelings of infatuation and the obsession that came with being in love.  It didn’t help that you truly did not understand those types of emotions and if you had then maybe you could’ve met someone and had some amount of experiences by now.  But advances made towards you always failed because of direct rejection or sheer obliviousness at the situation.  You never picked up on those things and it was evident when you missed opportunities where it was socially acceptable to express sympathy for someone; instead you’d question them and their actions leading up to their problem and their reaction, judging them for being too emotional.

“Is he a bad person?”  Raquel finally asked and she saw your demeanor soften.

“No.”  You shook your head, the need to defend Cassian surging through you.  “He’s really nice.  Kind and patient.  Considerate, even.”  You felt the bond flicker, coming to life in your gut. Every mention or thought of him woke it up and it seemed to search for him as it slithered around leaving golden flakes in its wake that made you feel alive and fulfilled in a way you’d never been before.

The walk to the house was shorter than other times because you and Raquel had not stopped talking the entire time.  Slightly tipsy after stopping for a drink your arms were looped together and you walked in tandem, revisiting memories from high school and sharing whatever updates you had from the rest of your friends.

Kristyn had moved to Hewn City with her husband.  They’d married right after high school and you had disapproved of it so much you almost didn’t attend the wedding.  You had argued with her about your decision to commit herself to an awful person and even worse partner.  But she did it anyway and according to her mother who spoke to your mother often, she was pregnant with her third child.  You had always been at odds with her for being so male obsessed.  She was constantly seeking validation through others, particularly males, especially males who were not nice to her.

Myra was at the Day Court, still learning her seer capabilities.  She became one shortly after she started puberty and it had been difficult with episodes occurring randomly that would immobilize her for days.  It got better as she got older but she thought it was best to learn about it and how to use it properly.  She rarely visited, however, always claiming to be busy studying and attending her apprenticeship.  You had always had a softer spot for her.  She was sensitive but not in the way that made her weak but in the way that it was evident she carried so much emotional weight by knowing things you all could never know.

Paula was mated and lived in a small village on the outskirts of Velaris.  She had met him through her then boyfriend, her mate being his cousin.  It was an entire ordeal and she ended up running away with him when her parents disapproved of him because he didn’t come from a good family or had a lot of money.  She never visited.  Your relationship with her was indifferent but she was the only one out of the group that you preferred to be with because, like you, she was okay with simple things and sitting in silence.

Diana became a Priestess after high school and never looked back.  She moved to the Winter Court where she became an acolyte and quickly graduated to becoming a Priestess.  She also never visited.  It was no surprise she chose that life; she’d always been more spiritual than you all and more reserved than you were.  You knew Priestess could have a regular life outside of their devotion but Diana decided to follow the religion more closely, opting for a life of solitude with the Mother, Cauldron and the Forces That Be as her only company.  You liked her, obviously, and she was intelligent so conversations were never dull and it helped having another voice of reason in the group to deter the rest from reckless behavior.

Raquel shifted her purse on her shoulder and sighed and you gave her a look.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, my bag is just heavy.”

You looked at it and then at her.  “What did you bring?”

She smirked at you and patted the bag.  “My camera. Don’t think I forgot our tradition.”

You stopped short at the door and gave her an exasperated look.  “Please don’t.  Not here at least.”

She hit your arm softly.  “Come on, Y/N!  I need to make your birthday vlog.”

“You can literally do it at any other time.”

She clicked her tongue.  “Doesn’t work like that, dear.”  Then she bounded up the steps to the house and let herself in.

Despite her passion to be a healer, Raquel loved to save any memories she could.  She saved pictures and receipts and created scrapbooks and one day she came to school with a camera that could record and take pictures so she could capture your group’s life whether it be school or personal issues or when you all went out.  Her favorite thing was to create a video for your birthdays by filming someone in particular and allowing them and the group to participate in confessionals as she called it.

You hated it because it was embarrassing to be reminded of ridiculous moments like arguments or when you were inebriated but she did it anyway and at the end of the day it was funny to watch the past year of your lives and watch everyone grow up together.

“This place is huge,” Raquel breathed out, spinning in a circle.

“Yeah.”  You let out a chuckle and took your coat off.  “Let’s go.  I’m sure everyone is in the living room.”

You were late because Raquel insisted on getting a drink before going.  You stopped at the only bar in the city that would allow underage drinking.  It was run by the same owner as when you were teenagers and he gave you free drinks while he inquired about your lives post high school.  It had been years since you’d been there; you had to have been seventeen when you had last come.  Then the attack happened and nobody saw you for a year until you healed and it took you another year to go to college; you were lucky to have finished in three years instead of the normal four so you weren’t too behind your peers.

When you were with your friends you were a completely different person.  More confident and joyful even, soaking in their energy and making it your own.  Their presence was supportive and they never walked on eggshells around you when wanting to do something or talking about something that you normally would have objected to.  They were going to do it with or without you so you went where they did in fear of missing out and surprisingly you enjoyed it.

“You’re late!”  Mor declared as you entered the room and you blushed, ducking your head.

“That’s my fault,” Raquel announced.  “I convinced her to go get a drink and it took us longer than expected.”

“Ah,”  Mor nodded her head.  “Didn’t think you went to bars, Y/N.”

You gave her a blank stare.  “I go out.”

“Not with us,” she retorted and you just rolled your eyes.  It was true you didn’t because you believed it would be too embarrassing.  You were a messy drunk and did not want anyone to see that.  More importantly you did not know everyone, only knowing them for a few months and did not want to intrude on their dynamic outside of work.

“We should while I’m here!”  Raquel suggested.  “We’re really fun.”

“We?”  Lucien raised an eyebrow at you and you threw your hands up in annoyance.

“I go out.  I’ve gone out.  I have a life.”  You defended yourself.  You sat down on the couch and crossed your arms and Raquel sat beside you, throwing her leg over yours.

Lucien raised his glass to you.  “If you insist.”

You just glared at him.  

You scanned the room quickly and noticed Azriel and Cassian were not there and for the sake of your nerves you hoped neither of them did.  But they were coming, at least Cassian was, because as you accepted a drink from Feyre and began to talk with Amren and Raquel the bond became tighter announcing his presence and soon enough he and Azriel appeared in the doorway clad in their armor and all seven siphons blazing.

It was like the air was sucked out of your body when you looked at him.  He was incredible; beautiful and gorgeous and perfectly made.  His armor fit him well, accentuating every muscle of his body and the siphons were your favorite part because they gave him an aura of strength like you’ve never seen before; their red glow complimented his skin and dark features and you couldn’t explain it but it made him look so right.  Your mouth was dry and you knew your jaw had slacked but you couldn’t, no you didn’t, have the strength to pull yourself together.

To your surprise he didn’t look at you as he made his way to Rhysand.  His face was hard and his jaw was tight, eyes dark and you could tell he was furious about something.  Azriel stood by the door, hiding in his shadows, and that’s when you noticed the blood on his hands and dirt in between his fingers.  You looked at Cassian and his hands looked the same and there was even mud in his hair.

He whispered something to Rhysand who glanced at Feyre and then nodded to Cassian and got up and they left the room silently.

The rest of the room was still watching the interaction, concern riddled on their faces.  But your face was not concerned about whatever had happened for it just expressed the most intense desire for your mate.

Raquel nudged you and you turned slowly, not taking your eyes off the door.

“I love this lovesick look you’ve got going on.”  She smirked and the faelights illuminated her brown eyes to show a playful glint to them.

You scowled and took a hearty sip of your drink.

You were still seated next to Raquel when Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand came back.  Cassian had cleaned up, shedding his armor aside from the two siphons on his hands and a pair of black slacks and a red button up with a few of the buttons undone in an attempt to air out his seething aggravation.

Windhaven and the rest of the camps had been given orders a year ago to begin the training of eligible females and the orders had been pushed back with the excuse of the Rite, the weather, and everything else on the gods’ green planet.  It was yet another meeting with Devlon where he ran him and Azriel in circles about why the females had not been put in the training rotation.

The discussion had gone from clipped words to raising voices until fists were being raised and blows were being landed.  It had gotten nasty and incredibly bloody and Cassian and Azriel were genuinely surprised to see that they hadn’t killed anyone but they were pleased to be told that a few would need weeks, maybe even months, of recovery.

Cassian couldn’t help but stop short when he came back to the room.  He’d never seen you so relaxed and beaming with joy.  Your head was thrown so far back in laughter that it was nearly touching Nesta’s shoulder and she was wiping her eyes from how hard she was laughing as well.  Your cheeks were glowing brightly and the light being emitted from the fireplace only enhanced the look.  You looked like you had been planted in front of him from another universe, a universe where nothing bothered or worried you.  In that universe you were always smiling and your dimples were as deep as the deepest cavern in the world.  Cassian lingered by the door and watched you, as your eyes shifted from face to face and you responded back in the same volume as the one who spoke before you.  

“And guess what she did while the whole thing was on fire?”  Raquel yelled out, waving her arms in emphasis.  The group around you howled and you giggled.

A smile ghosted Cassian’s face as he took a seat across the room for you.  “I thought if I covered it, it would go away!”  He watched you rub your chest and your smile falter slightly, indirectly acknowledging his presence.

Raquel nearly spit out her drink as she raised her hand in the air.  “Well let's go back!  What did you cover it with?”

“In my defense,” you poked her.  “I didn’t know cloth would make it worse.”

Cassian leaned over to Lucien who watched the group quietly.  “What are they talking about?”

Lucien snorted a laugh.  “Raquel and Y/N’s friends tried cooking and one of them, they both say different names, set it on fire and it looks like Y/N had the bright idea to put it out with a kitchen towel.”

Cassian clicked his tongue and leaned back in his seat.  All of the females were surrounding you with Nesta and Feyre beside you and Mor and Amren and Elain on Raquel’s side.

“They’ve been there since you guys left,” Lucien whispered as he poured himself, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand a drink.  “Tried getting in on the fun, but,” he sighed and got comfortable in his seat.  “I couldn’t keep up and they didn’t think I was funny.”

Azriel smirked slightly and Rhysand leaned against the fireplace.  “You?  Not funny?”  Rhysand tsked Lucien jokingly.

“Let me get the camera!”  Raquel shouted and it was immediately followed by your denial.

“No,” you groaned out and swatted at her hands as they rifled through her bag.  “Not here.”

“Especially here.  We’re having fun!”

Nesta and Feyre leaned over your shoulder and you sank into Nesta, letting her have a closer look as Raquel pulled out a camera from her purse and powered it on.  She aimed it at you and you blushed, ducking your head and covering your face pleading with her to stop.

“Come on,” Raquel drawled, adjusting the settings.

“What’s the camera for?”  Mor pipped up and Raquel shot her a grin.

“Her birthday.”

The declaration let out a chorus of ‘when’s your birthday?’ and Cassian watched you shift in your seat.

“It’s not even close.”

“Close?  It’s next month.”  You shot Raquel a look who didn’t seem to notice and the rest of the females erupted in chaos.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”  Feyre gasped.

“Do you have anything planned?”  Elain asked.

More questions came flooding inquiring about what you liked and what you wanted for your birthday and if they could plan something for you.  You sank into your seat and Nesta just wrapped an arm around you to keep you in place.

“Please!”  You let out a stressed laugh and waved your arms around.  “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Cassian realized he never did know your birthday.  He’d always assumed it was the Fall for some reason but not so late in Spring and so close to Summer.  The soft glow he’d seen earlier was now a deep shade of red as you drowned in the embarrassment of being the center of attention.  Your eyes glanced around the room in hopes of avoiding the questions and they landed on Cassian and your eyes widening slightly and your lips parted.  You looked like you were going to say something with the way you raised your hand slightly but you quickly tucked that hand under your thigh and turned your attention back to Raquel who got the camera working and shouted for you to pose and smile.  It took you what seemed like ages to take your eyes off his face but you did and suddenly you were the female he was watching before you took note of him but the tension in your shoulders told him it was just a mask.

You leaned into Feyre and Nesta who put their heads on your shoulder and you raised your leg as you turned your head to smile, flashing your teeth at the camera.  You laughed as the lens shuttered and then Raquel turned around and stretched out her arm and took another with all the females behind her.

“Let me see!”  Mor demanded, grabbing for the camera and Raquel passed it to her and you all surrounded it and laughed at the poses you all had made.

“That one is good.”  Elain pointed at the screen and Cassian watched you nod and complement the middle Archeron sister’s dress and the way the light caught it just right in the photo.

Watching you from afar was captivating and it fulfilled every one of his senses but it was also incredibly difficult.  Cassian wanted to be seated beside you and hear your laugh rumble through him and feel the way your smile seared him straight to the core.  He’d never seen you like this before.  Albeit earlier it was better; you were looser and more chirpy.  Now, you were a more subdued version since you’d look at him but regardless you were a different version of yourself tonight.  It was all Raquel.  She included you in the conversation with an inviting look in her eyes and kept a hand on you at all times.  This he could tell was what kept you in the loop and grounded in reality.  He’d notice how other times you got easily overwhelmed by so many conversing at once and so many topics being discussed and it was easy for you to fade in the background until something piqued your interest or you were asked a question.  Here, you listened to everything and commented on it too and you hadn’t shown the slightest evidence of boredom, annoyance, or anxiety.  It must’ve helped to have a friend at your side, he thought.

The realization struck Cassian harder than he thought it would and he felt the glass he was holding shake in his hand.  Had none of the Court been a good friend to you?  Had he not been a good friend to you?  No amount of dinners or after work socializing had gotten you this happy with a constant stream of giggles and cheeks so big from smiling he knew they’d be hurting sooner or later.  It might’ve been selfish to wonder this and feel sorry for himself for not being who you needed him to be.  But he did.  He wished he had been more for you because it was obvious you were lacking something and to watch you tonight it was obvious you were lacking friends.  Friendship; real, genuine friendship.  He thought he’d offer that but to what extent?  Friendship that turned into longing glances and forbidden touches and now a mating bond that has torn you two apart?  That wasn’t enough.  He hadn’t done enough.

You shifted in your seat, glancing at him again and he hadn’t looked away yet.  His gaze was fixated on you and not in a way that was hard or hungry but in a way that seemed to be deep in thought, considering you in this room surrounded by friends.  It seemed like he was looking at you for the first time or maybe even viewing you in a new light.

“I think,” Mor spoke slowly, her words slightly slurring together.  “We should go out tonight.”

“Oh,” Amren breathed out and tipped her glass towards the blonde.  “I think you’re onto something, girl.”

Raquel looked at you with a questioning look and you grimaced slightly.  You were not in the mood for any more of this.  You were tired and already a fourth glass of wine had been nestled in your hands by Feyre which you accepted because who were you to say no to a pleasant distraction from Cassian’s ever loomed presence in the room and deep within you?

You looked at the clock and then at Raquel, signaling it was late but Raquel just tilted her head and her eyes pleaded with you.  Raquel was the fun one, never saying no and going to a bar with a group that seemed to be on the wavelength and who also seemed like they would pick up the tab was not an opportunity she wanted to pass down.  You regrettably resigned to her puppy dog-like brown eyes and gave her a soft smile.

“Settled!”  Feyre shouted and looked over at the group of males who seemed incredibly lonely in their corner of the room.  “Are you guys coming with?”

“I don’t think we have a choice, Feyre darling.”  Rhysand responded and the rest simply nodded.  There was no way in Hell that they would let you all go out alone.

Cassian was the only one who didn’t seem to mind the extended invitation to inadvertently spend more time with you.

taglist: @thecraziestcrayon | @rcarbo1 | @azrielsshadows42 | @faridathefairy

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "lovers once a year" (dbf!joel miller)

hello to you, tiny people on my phone. reaching the end of this semester has thrown me onto a motherfucking rollercoaster. if i even think about the amount of finals i have to sit for, i'm afraid i'll tear up. so here i am, drifting away from real-life responsibilities </3 still working on this dbf!joel fic cause i haven't had much time to write lately, but i'm trying not to be too hard on myself. i really like how it's coming along. i'm close to finishing, though i'm not going to promise a specific posting date because i never seem to manage it LMAO

anyway, thank you to @elflutter @joelsdagger and @ovaryacted for tagging me!!!

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend. For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the affectionate type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length. Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state. Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree. Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing seemed to throw him off. Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

AND

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another promise he won’t keep.

tagging: @lubdubology @zloshy @princessanglophile @cavillscurls @guiltyasdave @tightjeansjavi @mrsmando - so sorry if you've already been tagged :( - and anybody else who feels like doing it!