#like towards the final two hours i just kept turning to my friend like

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Simon hated the tapping out ceremony. Ever since he first had to partake in one, he despised it. With no family and very few friends, he was usually the last on the field, waiting until one of his superiors would tap him out. But he couldn’t skip them either.

So there he was. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of soldiers lined up in neat little rows, standing at attention while they waited for their loved ones. And they came quickly. One soldier after the other was tapped out by their parents, siblings, spouse, and sometimes even children. But he stayed still, watching the happy reunions out of the corner of his eyes. Watching the tears and hugs and kisses. He envied the others; he was jealous of what they had, and he didn’t. But Simon had always been good at following orders, so he didn’t move, barely even blinked as he was surrounded by happiness, while he drowned in his own sorrow.

After an hour, there was only one other soldier left. Simon had barely interacted with him, but he knew his face. And just when Simon thought he wouldn’t be the only one without someone to tap him out this time, a crowd of eight people moved toward the soldier. At the front was an older-looking woman, her brown hair streaked with grey and lines on her face, indicating her age. Around her were people of all ages and genders.

“My son!” The woman let out a sob as she finally threw her arms around the soldier’s neck, causing the man to chuckle, as he hugged her back. “I missed you too, mama.”

One by one, he talked to the people surrounding him, hugged them, and kissed them. Simon couldn’t help but watch, bile rising in his throat as jealousy threatened to overtake him. And as he watched, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the soldier’s stead. Surrounded by a happy, loud, and loving family. People who were happy to see him. Nowadays, the only people he could call family were the guys from the 141, and they were away on a mission. Still, in his mind, the scene played out. His mother, smiling, rushing toward him. Followed by his brother and his wife, carrying his nephew.

The daydream was interrupted by someone walking toward him. He expected it to be his superior, there to finally release him from the nightmare. But it wasn’t.

A young woman took timid steps in his direction. Her eyes, bright but filled with sadness. Not her own sadness, though, it was sadness she felt for him. He didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t blink. She came to a stop in front of him, gazing up with a frown.

“Is someone coming?” Simon hesitated before giving an almost invisible shake of his head. She gasped, it was quiet and he barely heard it, but he felt it. In every bone, he felt her sadness and the sorrow she carried for him. Slowly, as if not to startle him, she lifted her hand, until it was inches away from his chest. “Is…is this okay?” When he gave a slight nod, she gently pressed her hand against his chest, finally tapping him out.

A breath he didn’t realize he had been holding escaped him as he finally turned to properly look at the woman. She was still gazing up at him, a soft smile now replacing the frown on her face.

“Thank you.” She nodded in response before glancing back at her family. When she looked back at Simon, she looked determined. “We’re going out to eat dinner if you’d like to join us?” Simon was about to decline when someone called out to him.

“Oi! Ghost!” He looked up and saw the soldier, now facing him, an arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. “Let’s go; my mom says dinner’s on us!” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and started walking toward the car park, his entire family in tow. Simon kept looking after him until a soft, small hand slipped into his own. He glanced down and found the woman smiling up at him.

“Come, my mom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” And with those words, the woman gently led him to follow her family.

A/N: This will be a two-parter. I hope you liked it!

[comediakaidanovsky]

man, i’m still kinda in awe of how mid DoN was, and how much the audience sucked

(though still have to give them some cred for coming alive for jade v taya v kris, and the turtleneck chants)

[sukunasweetheart]

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna...

warnings!!! dark content, noncon breeding, dubcon, sukuna ties your hands together, baby trapping, toxic, possessive and jealous sukuna, manipulative tendencies and mentions of violence (not towards reader), oral (f!receiving)

divider by @/saradika-graphics

3.8k words

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who'd always coax you into fucking him bareback without a condom because he swears it feels better...

being so sweet, seducing you into letting him hit it raw, doing whatever it takes to put you in a good mood, get you hot and bothered so you can't deny him for long, swearing that he'd pull out, and that you'd have nothing to worry about...

but scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who never kept his word. he'd fuck you silly and cum deep into your womb, even though he promised he wouldn't. you wanted to stop him, but you were feeling too good in the moment to fight him off. when you confront him about it afterwards, he simply tells you "my bad, sweetheart. i didn't mean to, but you just felt too good..."

he gets high off the feeling of cumming inside you.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who secretly wished he could fuck you pregnant with his seed. but you told him you didn't want a baby, which he disappoints him, though he may not show it. he wants to see your belly swell up with his child, and to suck on your sweet milk when your tits start leaking. fuck, just the thought of it had made him get hard.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't take you seriously when you broke it off with him. you could see it in his eyes sometimes, the way he seemed eerily quiet when your pregnancy tests turned out with only one line. you felt glad you'd taken those birth control pills behind his back. but you decided enough was enough. you loved him, but you just didn't want to have a child with him.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't even seem phased by the break up. he believed he could coax you back to him again, given with some time. you are his, and nothing will change that. when he sees you around, he shamelessly flirts with you and tries to convince you to come back to him, telling you that he misses you dearly. there are times when he almost succeeds, only because you do miss him sometimes too.

a few weeks into the break up, you truthfully, begin to feel a little sexually frustrated. you don't recall having such a high sex drive before getting with sukuna, but he seems to have permanently altered your body, the way he used to pleasure you so good...

you gather some friends and head into a club, and try to forget about him.

at the club, you re-familiarise yourself with the smell of alcohol in the air, the music that hurts your eardrums, and the crowd of people all around you, wherever you went. it's been a while since you've been here, because you had been with sukuna for over two years now.

an hour or two passes, and you've gotten yourself fairly tipsy at the bar now.

you sync yourself up with the music, but a familiar figure catches your attention from the second floor of the club, afar. it's sukuna. but he's not looking at you.

he's standing with his ex-girlfriend - the one that had gotten hysterical with you after she'd found out about your relationship with him. your mood plummets, for some reason.

you're the one that broke up with him. it shouldn't matter what he's up to after that. liar. you told me you missed me. you try to ignore him, and continue drinking yourself drunk, the edges of your vision already swimming.

sukuna's at the club, only because a friend of his snitched on you and told him that you were out here somewhere. he didn't think he'd meet yorozu, out of everyone it could've been.

"hi, ryo. i heard you'd finally broken up with that girl?" she asks sweetly, standing as close to him as possible.

sukuna gives her a deadpan stare.

"broken up? says who?"

"well, everyone. don't tell me you're pathetically clinging onto her now? that's not like you."

"i'm not you. now get lost, i'm busy."

yorozu grabs his hand, stopping him from walking away.

"wait! i just wanna tell you..."

she continues talking, but his attention has already drifted elsewhere, as his eyes pan toward the crowd downstairs. now...where are you? when he does manage to find you in the crowd downstairs, he doesn't like what he sees. that's an understatement. he hates it.

you're swaying your hips with some other bastard, making out with him on the dance floor.

"damn- you're so fuckin' hot," the stranger chuckles against the shell of your ear, your arms around his neck.

"am i really?" you respond giggling, clearly intoxicated.

"yeah, you are... why don't you come home with me?"

"hmmm? sure, why not? 'm single now, anyway," you mumble, your feet now beginning to stumble. you're starting to miss him again.

"broke up with your boyfriend, did you? poor thing."

"i'll help you feel better." the man grins and helps you walk outside of the club.

on his way out however, he bumps into someone of a large frame. he's all tatted up, and his gaze is holding a mean glare as he stares down at him. he holds out his hand to him, like he's asking for something.

"hand her over, and i won't beat you to death."

oh. he must be the ex. that was enough for the man to quietly place your body into sukuna's arms and exit the club.

tch, he's as spineless as he looks.

sukuna handles your limp body with care, your breath pungent with the smell of alcohol. he's irritated to no end right now, and a vein is bulging from his forehead, but he safely carries you to his car.

outside, the man thinks he's clear of danger, and decides he's had enough for the night. but, someone's heavy arm comes down around his shoulders suddenly.

"hey. you're the one that played it too close with sukuna's girl? how unlucky of you," a man with a scar on his lip talks nonchalantly.

he gets dragged into a nearby alleyway.

"don't take it personally. i got paid to do this."

the man shrieks as he gets beaten to a pulp, just enough so it hurts like hell, but not enough to kill him. sukuna likes to keep his word.

meanwhile... you're taken to your own home. he found the keys to your house in your purse. sukuna tucks you into your own bed, and even dresses you into your own pajamas. and then...

he just leaves.

-

the next morning - you don't remember a thing. you're left feeling confused, wondering how you managed to get home and how you were even sober enough to get yourself dressed. the only thing you can recall is seeing sukuna with his ex, and then making out with some random guy on the dance floor. everything else is blacked out.

you ask your friends, but they were also too busy getting wasted to know what happened to you. but you feel fine physically, so you brush the incident off.

now the only thing bothering you... sukuna hasn't contacted you again ever since you witnessed him and yorozu talking. so he must've gone back to her. that makes you feel... irritated. upset. sad, even. even though you wanted to break things off first.

you slowly start getting back to your normal daily life again, although with a heavy heart. only change is, that you can't seem to find your birth control pills, wherever you last put them. you contemplate for a moment, wondering whether you should buy a new pack, but you end up shrugging it off, knowing that you won't really need them in the meantime anyway...

you're trying to get back into what life was like before you met sukuna. falling back into bad diet habits, staring at your phone, going back and forth between unblocking and blocking sukuna's number - wondering if he's texted you again in the meantime - but of course, there is nothing new.

he may have had his toxic traits, but you knew he loved you a lot... he cooked you wonderful meals and spoiled you with gifts and knew how to make you orgasm until you couldn't speak. and he was tender with you, even though he teased you a lot.

and now, you're back to using toys to satisfy yourself... it's always like this! you start thinking about him and your hand begins to wander down - you can only hope that you'll eventually lose these feelings soon.

you decide to head out and go on a shopping spree alone, to distract yourself from your thoughts and maybe lift your spirits up.

spending a lot of money for yourself always feels nice. you're buying a lot of cute clothes, accessories and food, jumping between shop to shop. the sun sets rather quickly, and by now, you're at your final stop, mulling over whether this expensive, but beautiful bracelet and necklace set is worth buying. your impulse gets the better of you and you ask for it to be packaged for you.

you reach for your wallet to pay with your card, but someone's familiar voice rings out beside you as he approaches.

"i'll pay for the set." sukuna already has his credit card out, and is handing it to the store clerk, using a tone that makes him difficult to question.

"...sukuna?" you say quizzically, his name slipping from your lips without thinking.

the clerk scans his card, and your items are already paid for.

"what are you doing here..." you ask him, with mixed feelings running around in the pit of your stomach.

"missed me?" he asks with a smirk, very naturally taking your multiple shopping bags from your hand. "i just happened to be in the area."

you're not sure if you believe him. just when you're about to ask him something again, he guides you out of the store with his hand on your shoulder.

"i thought you got back with your ex," you say, taking your bags back from his hand. "i'm sure she'll be upset if she sees you here with me."

"what? where did you get that nonsense from?" he seems genuinely confused.

"i saw you at the club, by coincidence. you were talking with her."

oh... he didn't realise you'd noticed him back there.

"oh, sweetheart... that was a coincidence. i wasn't planning on meeting her. did you really believe that i'd get back with that woman?"

you shouldn't be feeling relieved to such an extent... but your shoulders loosen up after hearing that.

"well... you stopped contacting me after i last saw you with her. of course i'd start believing it."

"oh? i thought you had my number blocked. were you anticipating my texts? you missed me, after all." sukuna leans in closer to you, smiling cockily.

you should have just kept your mouth shut...

"i'll take you home. you have a lot of luggage, no?" sukuna offers, taking your bags back from your hand.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you know you're supposed to decline here. but you let your feelings get the best of you... and end up letting him lead you to his car.

he was supposed to just quickly drop you off home.

"you have a lot of stuff. i'll help you carry it home," sukuna gave his excuse, with something more sly hiding in his eyes. you know exactly what he wants. but when he insists so strongly, you can't deny him. like the fool you are.

you unlock your door and he comes inside to put your bags down on the floor at the entrance. and as you had expected, he doesn't leave right away. instead, he looks down at you with a coy smile, while you return the gaze with a more standoffish one. the tension feels thick and heavy as neither of you speak for a moment.

"well? i'm sure you didn't let me in without knowing my intentions..." sukuna moves forward and closer to you, hands very naturally finding their way to your waist.

he leans down slowly and offers you a brief kiss, a very light and short one, like he's testing the waters. he scans your face for your response. your lips feel all tingly. and all he sees is that you're not pushing him away.

"we shouldn't..." you whisper, but your resolve is too weak. you can't tell him to go away, much less kick him out of your home.

"i know."

in truth, he doesn't really. why should he be separate from you? you belong to him. he pulls you in for a deeper kiss. and you just let it happen.

and, lord, he smells and tastes divine. there's a reason why you always forgave him despite his scummy behaviour when it came to using protection. though you ended up breaking him off, you wonder if it'll be different if you give him another chance.

he wastes no time in lifting you into his arms like you weigh nothing, and heads off to your bedroom, before you can change your mind. you comply, holding onto his strong embrace weakly, having missed this kind of treatment.

when you're laid onto your own bed, sukuna smirks again as he cages you between his arms.

"you're being so obedient. must've regretted breaking up with me-?"

pulling him in with a hand to the back of his neck, you shut him up with another demanding kiss, not letting him speak for long. sukuna groans as you slip your tongue into him, initiating something messier than what the both of you were doing before.

he's quick to unzip your skirt and side it off, along with your panties. in desperation, he doesn't take the time to fully get you naked and instead, pushes your shirt and bra up to fondle your jutting breasts. sukuna then peels his own jacket and shirt off.

"spread your legs for me, sweetheart. i'll spoil you tonight."

you part your legs slowly - and he sees that you're already glistening with slick. bringing his face down, he aims straight for your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it entirely. your back arches as you gasp, the warm and wet feeling being so arousing like nothing else in this world.

you feel the tip of his tongue flicker up and down your clitoris in a mesmerising rhythm - knowing exactly what you want, and need to reach your orgasm. and the way he sucks on you with the correct amount of pressure, while making the lewdest noises, forcing your hips to stutter uncontrollably against his mouth, with the way it feels so mind numbing, is just too much in its own way.

you let your erotic moans ring out, because you know he loves it when you show him how good you're feeling - and your hands can't help but hold onto his hair from the intense pleasure, which he never seem to flinch from.

the first orgasm hits you like a truck, with the way you're left breathless and gasping for air as your legs reflexively try to close up - sukuna has to hold them apart with his strong grip as he continues tonguing you even as you're cumming, your cunt thrumming against his lips.

"o-ooh- fuck-! sukuna!" you plead, your blank gaze meeting the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, hips jolting without restraint.

when he does eventually show mercy and remove his mouth from your poor aching clit, you're already on the brink of sobbing, your legs down to your toes feeling all prickly from the overstimulation. your mind is in a haze.

so much so, that you didn't realise that he had bound your wrists to the bed frame until he was already done with it.

"wha- sukuna...? why're you tying me up-?" you question, still a little out of it from your last orgasm.

"shh, love. it's not like this is the first time...relax," sukuna comforts you, caressing your face. you can't help the small uneasiness from growing in your stomach. he suddenly gives your clit a light slap. it startles you a bit, and you gasp.

"you're so pretty. do you know that?"

you see your own reflection in his ringed eyes. your heart races, and you don't know if it's because you're flustered or terrified.

"i just wanna..."

his cock aches in his pants.

he never finishes his sentence. instead, he just offers you a soft, yet sloppy kiss.

sukuna frees his erection, and sighs in relief. it's all messy and leaky with precum. he lines it up against your wet and puckering cunt. you won't deny that you want it...

"sukuna... condom..." you remind him gently, getting slightly nervous from the way he's rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

"... 'm sorry sweetheart. i don't think i can do that."

he pushes his hips in one go, and you're left gasping from the sudden intrusion. you're immediately pushed into a mating press.

sukuna groans from how he immediately feels your wet walls sucking him in, your slick making his cock glisten as he thrusts in and out. he's missed this so, so much.

"fuck- sukuna! you can't- oh my g-god..." your hands tug at your bindings as you try and resist your moans from coming out of your throat, but the way his dick satisfies your cunt is otherworldly, his tip kissing your cervix, over and over again.

"that's it, baby... just enjoy yourself," he urges you on, getting breathless from his own fast pace, cock pulsating inside of you in excitement. god, you always drive him crazy.

still, in the back of your mind you still have a sliver of trust in this man. foolishly so. surely he'll pull out at the last second. surely he won't cum inside you in this situation. it's been a while since you stopped being on the pill.

your bed creaks from how roughly sukuna pounds your pussy, all while groaning with such shamelessness, only caring about the pleasure that is found from the warmth and wetness of your puckering hole.

"fuuck... fuck! to think you were gonna let some other bastard do this to you..." he growls under his breath, brows furrowing. you don't hear him. he remembers his original motive for all of this. to remind you who you truly belonged to.

"ooh-! sukuna! you're being too rough..." you whine, feeling the pressure of an incoming orgasm already building in your abdomen.

he only grips your hips harder, looking down at you with a toothy smile. his dick aches so badly. he's endured through so much patience just for this moment.

your mind goes blank as you forget about the fact that he's not wearing a condom, drool spilling out the side of your mouth from the pleasure you feel as his girthy dick drills in and out of you, a squelching noise happening everytime he sinks himself in. there's the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your ass. and also the friction from his pants, that he hasn't bothered to fully take off. the juices from your cunt has dampened them, but sukuna couldn't care less right now.

"sweetheart... my love... take- taking me s-so well..." sukuna groans, panting and words slurred. despite the deeply affectionate words, his hips move like an animal. you can't do anything but moan and cry.

sukuna feels himself getting high again. there's just something about you... god, he's so pussydrunk he can't even think properly. only the thought of breeding you is on his mind. make you his, completely. to see your belly get bigger from his seed... a powerful thrum goes to his cock and he shudders again.

he has to make it take, this time.

"i'm gonna cum," he tells you breathlessly, knowing you won't be able to stop him, this time around.

"sukuna!... wait," you protest, weakly tugging at your binds again, but you can't say anything more than that, as his lips come down onto yours, silencing you effectively. he tongue kisses you roughly, desperate and messy as you can feel his laboured breaths on you.

and the final thrust that he gives, where he pushes his dick in so deeply, tip meeting your cervix, sends you into another trembling orgasm. sukuna groans deeply against your mouth as he cums, hips stuttering against yours, eyes shut tightly as he savours you completely. you take your lips off of his, and try to say, "stop...! no- pull out," but he stops you with another kiss.

you sob, because it's over. but you're also sobbing because it feels so good.

sukuna's deep kiss trails down to the crook of your neck.

"you can't tell me to pull out... when your cunt is... seducing my cock like this..." he shivers between phrases, mumbling against your neck, mind all hazy from the way you pulse around him from your orgasm, milking his dick as spurt after spurt of his seed shoots straight into your womb.

you can't even say anything back to him - you're coming off your high as he empties his balls into you, letting out more than usual. you're done for.

"i hate you," you sob.

"i know you don't really mean that. you can't live without me," sukuna tells you, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead afterwards.

"and the same applies to me. i'll never let anyone else have you."

he begins to litter kisses down again, until he reaches your chest, while his cock is still inside you. his soft lips caress your tits, and then he begins to lather his tongue around your stiffened nipples, making you feel good again, even through the tears.

the night is far from over.

sukuna becomes much more gentle and soft after the first time, opting for slower but deeper thrusts this time around, adding plenty of little kisses in between as well, "loving" you with everything he has. you have no choice but to accept all of him, as he cums inside of you over and over again.

his cock is in its own haven, being trapped in your gummy walls without rest. and at some point, sukuna's even released your wrists, and now you're willingly making love to him with your arms around his neck, coping with the thought that resisting doesn't even matter anymore - it's already too late, and you're tired of trying to fight back.

you can't count how many times he's dumped his load into you, how many times he's said "i can't get enough of you," how many times you've kissed him back when he kisses you.

and when he finally does eventually pull out, his semen oozes out of you in a disgusting amount. you're spent, and completely exhausted. you can't help your heavy eyelids from closing up, and the last thing you hear is his soft voice.

"goodnight, sweetheart. i'll take care of everything, from now on. i promise."

he holds you so closely and lovingly that you believe him.

Masterlist

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi! Can I request 4. Using each other’s phones without supervision with Lando? I think it would be really funny and cute 🧡

Crazy Ex ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

4. using each other's phones without supervision

↺ ln x reader ・❥・

↺ fluff + humour ・❥・

masterlist ☾☼

lando was on stream with max f and ginge. like he usually was. y/n had learned early on in their relationship that if lando was "busy", it either meant that he was on stream, or he was sleeping, or he was quite literally in his race car, ready to go out onto the track.

y/n's finals had just gotten over (thank fuck for that) and now she was catching up on all her unread books with a gin and tonic in her hand. she was dressed comfortably in lando's tshirt and a pair of shorts. he had cuddled her up in a fluffy blanket to make sure that she was comfortable, but she knew he didn't want to be disturbed, and the best way to keep her occupied was to drown her in blankets with a book (or books).

y/n had lost track of time as she read through the gripping, swoon-worthy romance. only when her stomach grumbled did she realise that it was well after eight. digging her phone out from the mess of blankets, y/n looked for their usual order. frowning when she couldn't see the past orders on the app, y/n sighed, leaving her cocoon as she stood up and entered lando's gaming room.

"why do i keep dying?" lando screamed at the screen. y/n held back a laugh, as she was sure his friends were as well.

she looked around the room for his phone. there weren't a lot of places where he could have kept it in the room, so she gently tapped lando on his shoulder and he abruptly stopped screaming as he turned to look at her.

"oh, hey, babe! whatcha doin' here?" lando asked with a huge smile on his face.

y/n smiled at his sudden mood shift and softly said, "i need your phone."

"oh sure, baby, one sec," he said, as he looked around his table and found his table from under the pile of food packets and energy drinks cans.

"there you go, love," he said, as he handed her the phone and then turned back to the game.

y/n pressed a kiss on lando's head before exiting the room. she was already unlocking his phone and opening the delivery app. scrolling through, she found their past orders and quickly ordered food for the two of them.

settling back into her pile of blankets, she had lost the motivation to read further. the only thing going on in her head was food, so instead, she opted to scroll on tiktok. unlocking lando's phone again, she quickly found the app and began scrolling. her food was going to take thirty minutes, and she knew doom scrolling was the best way to pass the time.

max f's texts were ruining her doom scrolling, though. he texted every few seconds, and after she read the first message that only said "muppet", she knew it was going to be about something stupid. she was not bothered enough to move or let lando know. he was on stream anyways.

an hour later, y/n had eaten her dinner, watching a show on lando's phone, and was just beginning to settle into her book again when lando's voice rang through the apartment.

"babe? can you come here please?"

sighing, y/n picked up her tiramisu and walked towards his gaming room. lando smiled and extended his hand towards her, which she gratefully took. pulling her towards him, she settled on his lap, sitting sideways.

lando's hands were gripping her thighs and her waist, making sure that she wouldn't fall.

"what's up?" she asked.

"has max been calling me?" lando asked. he looked amused.

y/n took a bite of her tiramisu. "i think so? he started texting you like a crazy ex partner, and then i started watching a show so your phone switched to dnd,"

"yeah, but my calls would have gone through if his phone was on dnd, y/n!" max's said from the stream.

y/n clicked her tongue, feeding lando a bite of her tiramisu, "no, it didn't. if it had, i would've picked up, max,"

"so, you're telling me that i'm not in lando's list of callers when he's on dnd?" max asked, shocked.

ginge was laughing in the background.

"wait, you can do that?" lando asked.

"lan, you set it up yourself. your parents, your siblings, carlos, oscar, daniel, max verstappen, andrea, will, zak, and i are in that list. you added it yourself." you said, still too focused on your almost finished tiramisu.

max was screaming, and lando was laughing. you hadn't said anything wrong. it was the truth. you were there when lando had set it up.

lando was giving excuses to max, and max was refusing to acknowledge any of them.

"hold on, hold on, guys," ginge said, shutting the two up.

"what?" max was still mad.

"y/n, you had his phone with you for an hour and you didn't do anything?" ginge asked.

"i doom scrolled on tiktok and then watched a show on netflix." you said.

"you know, most girlfriends, when they have their boyfriend's phone unsupervised, they would read through their chats to see if there's a crazy ex or something," max said.

y/n nodded, "he does have a crazy ex. you, max. you blew up his phone more than i ever have. you were already in the stream, why blow up his phone?"

lando laughed, his shrieking laugh that you loved so much. "oh, i love you,"

"i know,"

"i got locked out of the house and i needed lando to get me the spare set of keys!" max exclaimed, laughing.

"keep a rock outside your door with the key. that'll help." she said, deadpanned.

the three boys erupted in laughter again. the chat was going crazy. but, all y/n could think was that her tiramisu was over and she still wanted more.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

hey! im so sorry it took me so much time to write this! my mid semester exams are going on! i hope you like this! i am also drinking a gin and tonic right now, and i also miss my tiramisu. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 🎃

you prepare luke’s make-up for halloween night

warnings: just pure sexual tension 🫦

₊˚⊹♡

"You´ll be taking care of me, little Red Hood?" Luke asked, sitting down on the wooden chair placed in the middle of the room at cabin eleven.

Your silk red skirt brushed the back of your thighs as you turned around, cleaning the last bit of face paint from a thin brush. "I will, Mr. Castellan" you joked.

The cabin is packed, like most of the time, but today was for a different reason. A bunch of Hermes´ boys were getting their make up done by you and your sisters, the reason? Halloween night. It was kind of a tradition for the Aphrodite cabin to help out with the costumes for the big party. And as much as a pain it is to help all the campers, you couldn´t deny that it was fun to pick out what your friends should be dressing out as for tonight and then doing their makeup to match the costume, and right now, it was time to help the worst breed; the boys.

They were men, therefore, they were basic, they´ve all decided to dress up as skeletons.

Soft pop music was playing inside the cabin as you felt a faint smell of cherries and hot chocolate. It was a comforting yet fun place to be at right now, like a beauty salon, but chill and without the white lights and burning chemical smells. More of your sisters were currently taking care of some other boys´ make up, painting their faces in black and white scary features that would barely make them look human at night, and now, it was Luke´s turn.

Luke´s face was already quite chiseled, like those marble Greek statues. You stepped back a second to take a good look at his face; sharp features, big nose, small eyes, plushy lips. Good, this would be fun.

"Alright" you state, "Just stay still and let me do all the work"

You leaned in slightly, starting to draw the outline of Luke´s face with a white make-up pencil. You and Luke stood silent, unlike the rest of the campers who kept on chatting and screaming at each other due to failed skeleton features. You planned on doing the simple; a white or pale base with black features like eyes, nose, cheekbones and mouth, maybe even some shadows, just like you did with Connor and Travis, who specifically asked for you to prepare them.

"I didn´t know you were so good at this" Luke finally spoke, anticipating to break the ice a little.

"What can I say?" you smiled, "I have many hidden talents"

You continued on, working in the lines, making the transition between the white and his perfectetly tanned skin. He was such a lovely canvas, his skin was clean, and smooth. You were actually a little scared to end up making him look bad. "Your jawline´s perfect" you muttered as you dragged the pencil there, more to yourself than to him.

Luke chuckled, "Is it now?"

You only dart your eyes away from your work to look into his eyes for a second, then back to your progress. Your teeth barely show as you smile a little, glossy red lips only shining brighter. "Okay, don´t get all cocky now" you tease.

Luke was used to flirting with everyone he met, and of course, people flirting back. But seeing you so focused on his face, the pen working on his face with you so close to him, gave him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

You felt so close. Luke could smell a faint scent of cherries coming from you, and the hairspray of your hair. He could almost feel the warmth of your body too, standing so close to him, your body leaning down towards his face, making him look upwards to take a look at your face. You hissed then, taking a soft grip of your lower back, "Shit" you whisper. You were uncomfortable, being hunched over for so long.

"You okay?" Luke asked.

"Yeah" you reply, "Just-, my back´s killing me. I´ve been like this for an hour" you explain, you´ve been in the same position for the past other two boys you prepared.

Luke looked concerned for a second. So he shifted on his seat then, opening his thighs, basically welcoming you.

You stood speechless, pencil in hand as you chuckled softly, unable to react, or move.

"Come on" he urged you softly, his eyes locking on yours as he patted his thigh. You knew he wasn´t inviting you to sit there, —even though he wouldn´t complain if you did—, rather than in between them. "I don´t bite"

You scoff then, shaking your pencil in between your fingers. Your boots step into the tiny space then, back straightened as you only have to look down to Luke´s face, "Sure you don´t" you reply.

He lets out a short chuckle, tilting his face up to maintain eye contact. The air feels weirdly tense. Your fingers take a soft hold of his chin as you tilt his head a little more up, dragging the pencil over the lines once again; just in case. Luke´s eyes remain open, taking a look at your costume.

A deep scarlet skirt almost too short paired with tall, heeled backboots and a white button-up that hugged your figure just perfectly, and the black corset over it did just the rest of the magic, along with, of course, the red silk cape and hood.

"You look great" he muttered out, trying to get a reaction out of you.

You stop your movements for a second, looking at him dead in the eye again, but with a serious face, only to go back to your job as if he said nothing. "Great doesn´t cover it" you reply, tilting your head slightly.

He chuckled at that. You had no idea how right you were. You were gorgeous in that outfit and he could swear you looked like a damn goddess, a vision come to life just to taunt him.

"Cocky-" he muttered with a playful smile.

"Don´t move" you interrupt, leaning down a little bit more just for a second, the thin pencil brushing past the outline of his lips.

Your face was closer to his now, the scent of his cologne made you feel lightheaded.

Luke had that type of aura; the one that was always surrounded by a nice scent. The type that made you want to lean in closer, the type that was warm and comforting, yet he was no sweet pea, but a little more rough. Manly, with his legs spread open like that for you to stand in between, or for you to sit whenever you liked.

And with his face so close to you, you made and observation; Luke was handsome.

Very.

Just when you finished tracing the outlines of his eyes, lips, and cheekbones, you turned around to dip a pencil into some black face paint. Luke remained politely silent, lips closed and hands over his thighs as he followed your every movement. He was watching you intently as you worked. You looked so focused and careful, like it was an important and serious job, and for gods sake, it was Halloween makeup. He wondered if you were just doing it so perfectly to impress him, which was working, and Luke had to admit it was cute to see you so fixated on his face.

He could feel his heart pound in his chest. Sitting there, having you so close, all he could think of was touching you. How could he not when you were wearing such clothes that he loved?

Of course he wouldn´t. He was patient, and he was very much enjoying the game so far. But you were so close , it was so tempting. And he did have a very bad self-control.

You took your sweet time blending the black paint over Luke´s face with a small brush. He was being an obedient boy, sitting still, with no smart remarks coming from his mouth. How rare.

He enjoyed just watching you, watching your expression change slightly as you applied more and more paint on, watching the tip of your tongue dart out of your mouth every once in a while. It was so hard to keep his hands tucked into balled-up fists on his thighs.

But he wouldn´t stop staring at you, your face.

But you stepped back, pencil on your hand and a small smile growing on your glossy lips, but your brows furrow. You were slightly confused. Luke stared back, not a single expression on his face. His face was sharp looking, focused, stone. And the black paint was doing nothing but only making him look more-, attractive.

"Don´t look at me like that" you smile barely, more confused than actually chilled about what was happening.

"Like what?" He asked, the black paint only remarking the scary and sharp features on his now painted face.

You looked a bit flushed, your makeup and hair perfect. But he wanted to mess it up , ruin it a little. He kept staring at you, not bating an eye. "Like-," you cut yourself off, turning slightly to the side to grab a different pencil before dipping it in more black face paint, "Like you´re undressing me with your eyes or something" you say, too shy to say the words loudly, stepping in between the space of his thighs again, too afraid that somebody else would hear you.

Oh, but Luke heard you just right.

He hums quietly, a smirk pulling at his lips at your embarrassed expression.

You´re standing there, in between his thighs again, and he has to force himself to keep his hands in place. He looked up at you, eyes focused on you as you applied the paint on him. And you were so concetrated on the task in front of you, on his face, you didn´t realise how badly he wanted you.

He was hungry, and it took every bit of his self-control to keep from touching you.

"Maybe I am" he responds quietly.

His voice is low, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. His eyes burn into your skin, like he´s daring you to respond, to say something, anything, back. And for the first time, you have nothing to say, no witty response. You just look back into his eyes.

And there is something in them, something that makes your heart beat faster.

He stares back, not moving, not speaking, and the tension is almost palpable. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry, and you try to ignore the way your body is reacting. Luke has never had this effect on you before.

“Perv" is the only thing you manage to reply, not even a full sentence, not even speaking fully, just whispering into his face as you go back to your task, you only wanted this to be over now.

You can tell by the way his shoulders are tense that he´s struggling not to move. But he doesn´t, and his silence makes your stomach twist and turn. You know he´s enjoying this, and the fact that he knows what he´s doing to you is almost enough to make you snap.

Luke saw the way he made you blush and trip into your own thoughts, and that was enough for him.

You remained awfully silent for the rest of the time, with Luke´s eyes still piercing through your soul until you´re done. "There" you say as you finish touching up the last bits of shadows onto his lips, "All done" you say softly, walking back to the small table to start cleaning brushes again.

Luke stood up, turning around to face you. His face was completely covered in white and black, his skin was unrecognizable.

He walked over to you slowly, and the way he was moving was almost predatory, like he was stalking his prey. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The rest of your sisters and his brothers didn´t seem to notice a thing or even try to look to your direction, too busy invested into their own conversations.

You grab a towel, and you feel it-, oh you feel it. Like when someone´s standing behind you, the cold feeling that drips down your spine, ready to attack. Luke places his hand on each side of the table, his chest so close to be pressing to your back, trapping you against the table; and you couldn´t even see him properly.

"Just a question-," he says, clearing his throat briefly, "How effective is the make-up remover?"

Your breathing hitches for a moment. His voice was ridiculously low and whispery against you. You swallow, and the room suddenly feels too hot.

“Um-" you reply, trying to focus on cleaning the brushes instead of the man standing right behind you. "Very. It´ll clean right away, don´t worry" you reply poorly.

"Oh-. no, I wasn´t asking because of me", he replies, and he leans in a little closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You can feel the heat of his breath and it sends a jolt of electricity through your body, "I was asking for you. I don´t wanna leave any mark on your face after you´ve worked so hard on yourself"

Well, who would´ve though this guy was a poet? Hiding meanings behind words?

"That´s very considerate of you" you reply, trying not to sound too eager, but the way your voice cracks tells him all he needs to know.

Luke nods once, a smirk on his lips, and you can practically hear it in his voice. He leans down, his lips grazing the skin of your neck and his nose ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"I´ll make sure you find me", he whispers.

And with that, he steps back, his presence gone as fast as it arrived to the scene. Your hands tremble slightly as you finish putting the last brushes away, and your face burns hot. He had suddenly left you wanting, a feeling you didn´t even have when you first started working on him.

But you had to head back to your cabin now, and fuck-, were you mad you couldn´t get what you wanted now.

Luke surely knew he had started some type of game, your pretty little self caught in between his webs… but the night was only starting, and soon enough, you would be the one trapping him.

[ellabscrush]

— play with my pussy, not my heart.

a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!

sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”

she caresses your face and pecked your lips.

nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.

i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?

“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.

“that’s my best girl.”

besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.

three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.

nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.

abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.

“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.

“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”

nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”

you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.

sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.

“fuck me..” you muttered.

“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.

you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.

“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.

three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.

abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”

“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.

“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’

you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”

you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.

she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.

“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.

“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled

abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”

“trying?” you looked up.

the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”

she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.

abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!

“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”

.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.

the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.

“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”

you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”

she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.

your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”

the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.

“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”

“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.

her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.

you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.

you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.

“faster,” you demanded.

she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.

“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”

“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”

abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.

the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.

maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?

“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.

“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.

abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.

you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.

“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”

abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.

“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”

her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.

“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”

“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.

an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.

“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.

“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”

“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.

you know how that goes..

once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.

“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”

abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.

“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.

of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.

well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (three)

requested here; (one); (two)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (the duff inspired) word count: 5.4k

You hadn’t planned for that kiss to happen the other day.

It was supposed to be all part of the game, of the plan.

You just wanted to learn things properly. Right? But you knew, you had wanted it, and worse, you had liked it.

God, what the hell were you doing?

He was Rafe Cameron. Cocky, rich, your nightmare with a reputation that should have sent you running in the opposite direction. And yet, here you were, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled back. If you hadn’t let the spell break.

"Focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head like you could shake him off too. You had bigger things to worry about—like Nate.

Remember Nate? The whole point of this was to get him to notice you, to finally realize that you were more than just the girl he studied with. You weren’t supposed to be getting caught up with Rafe Cameron’s sudden vulnerability or, God forbid, catching feelings for him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you turned down the street toward your apartment. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of Rafe stayed with you for hours, sneaking its way back in every time you thought you’d pushed it out for good.

What was it about him, anyway? He was hot, sure. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was seeing something deeper. Like there was more to this than either of you were willing to admit. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were starting to want him to see more.

By the time you reached your door, you had spiraled enough to know you needed a distraction. So you did what any girl in your situation would do: you grabbed your phone and texted Harper back.

You: Movie night better include wine. Lots of wine.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Harper <3:  “Already taken care of, babe. See you soon.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little better. It was exactly what you needed. Maybe after a few glasses of wine and some cheesy rom-coms, you’d finally stop thinking about that stupid kiss.

As you closed the door behind you and flopped onto your bed, your phone buzzed again. Expecting it to be Harper, you lazily reached for it, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Rafe’s name instead.

Rafe: got your notes ready for tomorrow? or should i just show up and charm my way through it?

You stared at the screen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or throw your phone across the room. Why did he always have to do this? Act like nothing had changed when everything felt different?

Not that you were any better.

Finally, you typed back.

You: “depends. can ur charm get you through an entire chapter on portuguese colonization?”

His reply came almost instantly. Like he’d been waiting for yours.

Rafe: “we both know my charm can get me through anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile tugging at your lips.

You: “let’s not test that theory. see you tomorrow.”

You tossed your phone aside, willing yourself not to overthink the fact that just seeing his name pop up on your screen made your heart race.

You were going to get through this. Nate was your goal. This thing with Rafe was just a detour. A very distracting, very complicated detour that you’d handle... eventually.

But tonight? Tonight was for your girls, your movies, and drowning out the chaos in your head with as much wine as it took to stop thinking about blue eyes and stupid smirks.

Later that night, you found yourself sprawled out on Ava’s couch, surrounded by blankets and popcorn, watching some cheesy rom-com that Harper had picked out. The glow of the TV cast a soft light over the room, but your mind was still elsewhere. Even with your best friends beside you, laughing and making snide comments about the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

It wasn’t just the kiss—although that had definitely been messing with your head lately—it was everything. The way he’d been acting, the things he’d said, the stupid nickname that you couldn’t seem to shake. Harper and Ava had a point, but they didn’t know Rafe like you did. Not anymore, at least. You’d seen sides of him recently that no one else had, and while you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, there was something there. Something more than just the cocky rich boy everyone saw.

You sighed, reaching for another handful of popcorn, but Harper, ever the perceptive one, caught the look on your face before you could hide it.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, nudging your leg with her foot. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Yeah, you’ve barely roasted this movie,” Ava added, throwing a piece of popcorn at you. “That’s not like you.”

You didn't want to get into it, “Just tired, I guess. Long day.”

Harper wasn’t buying it, though. She turned the volume on the TV down and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Okay, spill. This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Can we not talk about him ?”

“Nope,” Harper said, yanking the pillow away. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. I know a liar when I see one."

Busted.

“Did something happen?”

You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. They were your best friends, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you. But the whole thing with Rafe felt complicated, like more than just a stupid crush. Still, you couldn’t keep it all bottled up forever.

“Fine,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There was... a kiss.”

Harper’s jaw practically dropped. “A kiss? With Rafe?”

“When did this happen?” Ava demanded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I was scared!” You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again as you thought back to that moment in the library, “He knew I never kissed anyone and offered.”

“Wait, what? Your first kiss was with Rafe freaking Cameron?”

Ava gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “He offered? What the hell does that even mean? Did he just, like, present his lips to you like some weirdo?”

You groaned, wishing you could shrink into the couch and disappear.

“It wasn’t like that, okay? We were talking, and it came up. I told him I hadn’t kissed anyone, and then he was all, ‘I can fix that,’ or something. It just... happened a few days later.”

“So, what was it like? Was it good? Did he use tongue? I need details, girl.”

Harper elbowed her. “Ava! Let her breathe, she’s clearly still processing.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more as you fidgeted with a loose string on your sweater. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was good, okay? Really good. But it’s Rafe, and now everything’s weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

Harper’s expression softened,  “Okay, I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’ve hated Rafe for, like, ever, right? And now, all of a sudden, you’re kissing him? What about Nate?”

“I know!” you groaned again, throwing your head back against the couch.

Ava looked like she was about to explode. “So... do you like him? Because it sounds like you’re starting to like him.”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t supposed to like him. It wasn’t part of the plan. But then he had to go and be all... different. Like, he’s still Rafe, but sometimes he’s—I don’t know, sweet? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous.”

Harper sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Babe, if you’re getting all messed up over a guy like Rafe, this could be a problem.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. You didn’t want to like Rafe. He was the last person you should be catching feelings for. 

“Guys like him? They’ll pull you in, mess with your head, and leave you confused as hell.”

“I know,” you said, hating how true that sounded. “But it’s not just that. There’s something else. Like, when we’re alone, he’s— I don’t know. He lets his guard down, and I see a side of him that I don’t think anyone else does. He's weirdly honest."

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not catching feelings?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t even know anymore. I thought this was just a stupid kiss, but now it feels like everything’s different. And it’s so dumb because I should be focused on Nate!"

Ava and Harper exchanged a glance, both of them looking concerned. Harper was the first to speak.

“Okay, maybe this is a sign you need to figure out what you really want. Do you want to keep chasing Nate, or... do you want to see where things go with Rafe?”

You blinked, the question hitting you harder than you expected. What did you want? Nate had always been the plan—nice, safe, uncomplicated Nate. 

It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His stupid grin, the way he’d tease you but also get serious for like, two seconds, just long enough to make you question everything.

You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face, “This was a terrible mistake.”

Harper crossed her arms, studying you. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Call him.”

“What?!” You sat up, heart racing. “No way. I can’t just call him out of nowhere.”

“Yes, you can,” Ava chimed in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the test—if he picks up right away, it means he’s been thinking about you too. If he doesn’t? Then maybe he’s just playing games.”

You stared at them like they’d just suggested jumping off a cliff. “Are you guys serious? There’s no way I’m doing that. You're not serious."

Harper smirked, grabbing your phone off the table and holding it out to you. “Do it. Right now. Trust me, if he cares, he’ll pick up.”

What kind of fucked up science was that? Rafe? Liking you? It was ridiculous. There was no way. Not when he'd been with so many girls, kissed even more, and never gave you a second glance. You were just...there.

Your stomach twisted in knots. “What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m weird for calling at night? What if I just— explode from embarrassment?”

Ava waved her hand dismissively. “If he doesn’t answer, then you know where you stand. But if he does... well, that’s another story. And I highly doubt you’ll explode. Just call him and see.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your phone like it was about to bite you. It felt reckless, terrifying even. But you were curious too—what would happen if you actually did it? Would he care? Would he answer?

“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the phone from Harper and quickly finding Rafe’s name in your contacts before you could change your mind.

Ava grinned, leaning in. “Ooh, this is gonna be good.”

“I thought you hated him—"

“Call him!”

You hit call, holding your breath as the phone rang once, twice—

And then, to your absolute horror, it stopped. He picked up.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice came through, “Everything okay?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both staring at you like this was the most exciting thing to ever happen. You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, like you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes freaking out about calling him.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, cringing at how awkward you sounded. “I just... wanted to see if you were ready for tomorrow’s study session.”

Lame. So, so lame.

Rafe chuckled softly. “You called me at night to ask about studying? I didn’t know I was that irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

He laughed again, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Too late. Anyway, I’m ready for tomorrow. Was studying really the reason you called?”

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both nodding furiously, encouraging you to say something—anything that wasn’t study-related.

“Well... maybe not just that,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

There was a pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, more serious. “I’m glad you called.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just muttered, “Yeah, me too.”

There was another moment of silence, like you were both trying to figure out what to say next.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafe said, his voice a little lower, almost... warmer? “Night.”

“Night,” you replied, and then the call ended.

You dropped your phone onto the couch, staring at it like it had just turned into a bomb.

Harper squealed. “He picked up right away! And he was flirty! Oh my God, he likes you!”

Ava clapped her hands, bouncing on the couch. “I knew it! He’s totally into you. Nevermind what we said earlier. Rafe Cameron is into you. We were wrong. Scratch the whole 'he’s just messing with your head' thing. He’s definitely catching feelings.”

You scowled, “Where’s your backbone? Five minutes ago, you were all, ‘Rafe’s trouble, don’t fall for it,’ and now you’re practically shipping us?”

Harper shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but that was before he picked up right away and sounded all soft. That’s different, babe.”

“Exactly!” Ava chimed in. “Nate who?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. He’s... safe. And uncomplicated. Why am I even entertaining this idea of Rafe?”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Because safe doesn’t make your heart race. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you stay up all night overthinking. If you were so into Nate, you wouldn’t be calling Rafe at night. Or letting him kiss you!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. They had a point, as annoying as it was. Nate might’ve been the goal, but Rafe was what had your head spinning. You groaned again, flopping back against the couch.

Sure, maybe he’d been acting a little off lately. Like, sometimes he’d actually ask you how your day was or show up when he knew you’d be around. You didn’t think much of it, though. That’s just how it was with guys like Rafe—he probably wanted something, or maybe he was just bored.

You huffed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “It’s just so stupid. He’s Rafe. He’s... ugh, he’s complicated, and I don’t even know if he’s serious, or if he’s just bored, or what. And now I’ve kissed him, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”

“And now you’re realizing that maybe Nate isn’t what you really want after all,” Harper finished.

You sighed, hugging a pillow to your chest. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He’d flirt, he’d flash that stupid grin, and then he’d move on like nothing ever happened. Why would you be different? 

“Easy. You figure out what you want. Not what Nate wants, not what Rafe wants. You. And until then, just... enjoy. No one said you had to decide everything right now.”

Harper nodded in agreement, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah. Take it slow. And for tonight, let’s just not overthinking every little thing, okay?”

Yet, you thought about him all night. You’d seen the way he treated other girls. He’d throw them those lazy smiles, the ones that practically screamed I’ll forget your name by tomorrow, and it always seemed to work.

They all fell for it—why wouldn’t they? Rafe was good at getting what he wanted, and he never stuck around long enough for things to get messy. You? You were invisible up until recently. He only paid attention when he felt like pissing you off. Your friends had to be reading too much into things.

This was Rafe. The same Rafe who was impossible to figure out, who never took anything seriously—least of all you. There was no way he liked you. 

But the next day came way too fast, and you were paying for it. Hard.

You groaned as you dragged yourself into the library, sunglasses on like they were going to somehow shield you from the pounding headache.

Harper and Ava had insisted on one more glass of wine, which of course, turned into two. And now, you were here, praying Rafe wouldn’t notice that you felt like death.

As you slumped into the chair across from him, he immediately raised an eyebrow, “Rough night?”

You gave him a look, your head already throbbing too much for his sarcasm. “Don’t even start, Cameron.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your state. “Wow, I can smell the regret from here. You look like you partied with a bottle of tequila and lost.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was wine, thank you very much. And yeah, it was a little too much.”

He chuckled softly, flipping open his notebook. “A little? You look like you just survived a war zone. Was the study session that boring to look forward to?”

“Ha ha, so funny,” you muttered, wincing as you reached for your bag. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Barely.” He tilted his head, clearly enjoying every second of it. “I’m impressed you made it at all. Should I have brought a bucket? You know, just in case?”

You glared at him from behind your sunglasses. “I hate you so much right now.”

Rafe just grinned, unfazed. “Trust me, it’s mutual. But seriously, you need water or something? You’re about two seconds away from face-planting on that table.”

You bit your lip, knowing he was right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Still, your mouth felt like a desert, and the thought of anything cold and hydrating sounded like heaven.

“Maybe… a coffee?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Huh? No?”

“You’re not drinking coffee before you eat.”

You squinted at him, thoroughly annoyed. “Rafe, I’m hungover, not five years old.”

He just raised an eyebrow, clearly not swayed.

“Hungover means your brain’s working even worse than normal, so yeah, I’m pulling the adult card here. You need food before coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, regretting it instantly as your head throbbed harder. “Fine. I’ll get food after the coffee.”

He shook his head, already getting up. “Nope. I’m grabbing you a bagel or something.”

“Rafe, seriously—” you started, but he was already walking away, not even bothering to let you finish.

You slumped back in your chair, groaning under your breath. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and your stomach was twisting in a way that wasn’t just from the hangover. But it was so typical of him to boss you around, like he knew what was best for you. He seemed almost too serious about all this, like it wasn’t just about breakfast or caffeine. Was he actually… worried?              

He was being so over-the-top about something so simple. Maybe he noticed things you didn’t even realize were slipping—how little you’d been eating, how tired you always seemed. You didn’t want him to worry, to get so wrapped up in how you were doing. But the fact that he did… 

Rafe returned, dropping a bagel in front of you. “Eat. Then you can have your coffee.”

You blinked at the bagel, caught off guard. “You actually got me food?”

He gave you a look. “You really thought I wouldn’t? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A pain in my ass?” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it. You unwrapped the bagel, taking a cautious bite, and, annoyingly, it actually helped. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Now, once you finish that, we’ll get started on actual studying. You might wanna take those sunglasses off too. It’s not that bright in here.”

“Stop being so smug about it,” you grumbled, but you took another bite of the bagel, your headache easing just a little.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he owned the place.

“Hey, if you’re gonna drink like that, you should at least have someone who can take care of you after.”

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this your way of saying you care?”

“Eat your bagel.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your chest. Why was he always like this? One minute he was the biggest pain, and the next, he was sweet? You took another bite of the bagel, trying to ignore the way his comment made your stomach do a weird little flip.

Rafe just watched you, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. "I'm not saying anything," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "But you did call me last night."

You nearly choked on your bagel. "That was for studying!"

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Oh, right. You totally call guys at night to talk about history."

You threw a balled-up napkin at him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Don't start with me, Cameron. You texted me first!"

"Fair enough," He caught the napkin effortlessly, still grinning, like teasing you was the highlight of his day. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "Don’t know if it’s the kiss or maybe you’re just starting to realize I'm not all bad."

You scoffed, trying to brush off how much that actually hit home.

"Please. You're still an entitled jerk, Rafe. One kiss doesn’t change that."

But the truth was, maybe it did change something. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. And now, sitting here with him being all unexpectedly considerate, it was getting harder to pretend like there wasn’t something going on.

“So it hasn’t been keeping you up at night?”

“Why would it? It was just a kiss. Happens all the time, right?”

His smirk widen, “So I didn’t get your panties in a twist?”

You were going to throw a book at his face.

"You’re so full of yourself," you muttered, trying to act unbothered, but your pulse quickened.

Rafe leaned in a little closer, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ with the way you keep getting flustered. You sure it didn’t mean anything?”

You narrowed your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you want me to say, Rafe? That I’m totally falling for you? That I can’t stop thinking about the kiss? Because that’s not happening.”

He chuckled softly, leaning back again, but something shifted in his expression. He was still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity now, almost like he was testing the waters.

“Good to know. Guess I’ll just keep doing my thing then.”

“Your thing? What, being an annoying, arrogant jerk?” you shot back, though there was less bite in your tone than usual.

Rafe’s lips twitched, “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you up at night.”

Ugh. Why was he like this? Why was this working on you?

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay focused on the whole reason you were here in the first place: studying, Nate, anything but this. But the way Rafe was looking at you right now, like he could see through all the walls you put up... yeah, it was messing with your head again.

"Can we just study now?" you grumbled, flipping open your textbook, praying the conversation would shift before your cheeks got any redder. "I didn’t drag myself here to talk about your ridiculous fantasies."

His grin softened into something more genuine, and he shook his head, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Let’s get started before your brain melts from that hangover.”

But as you pulled out your notes, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. And worse, you knew your heart was doing the same—stupid fluttering and all.

There was something about this back-and-forth with him that was starting to feel... different. And maybe, just maybe, that scared you more than you were willing to admit.

As the two of you dove into the study session, you tried—really tried—to focus on the material in front of you. But every time he leaned in a little closer or cracked a joke that made you roll your eyes, your mind wandered back to that kiss. To the way he looked at you when no one else was around. To the fact that, as much as you hated to admit it, Rafe Cameron was making you feel something you hadn’t expected.

“Do you remember that bonfire when we were sixteen?” he asked all of a sudden.

You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Which one? There were like, a million bonfires.”

“The one where you dumped your drink in my face.”

Your hand froze halfway to your mouth. Oh. That bonfire. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory came rushing back, clear as day.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something you forget. One minute I was talking to you, and the next, I was soaking wet with a face full of—what was it? Lemonade?”

“Spiked lemonade,” you corrected, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” he echoed, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “I asked if you wanted to hang out by the water. How’s that deserving a drink to the face?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the old annoyance bubble up again. “You asked me to hang out after you and your friends had spent the whole night making fun of me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, maybe we were a little rough back then. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a dick that night.”

“You were always a dick,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind your words. Sixteen-year-old you had despised him and his cocky attitude. 

He smirked, “You were so pissed off. Your face was all red, and you were shaking with anger, like you couldn’t believe I’d even dared to speak to you.”

“You had it coming.”

“I probably did,” he agreed, a softer look crossing his face. “But I remember thinking, even back then, you were different. You didn’t take shit from anyone.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Wait, are you actually complimenting me right now? What is happening?”

Rafe just grinned, leaning back again, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve always had more fight in you.”

Your stomach did that weird little flip again, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the crumbs left on the table. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such an ass, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“I think that’s why I liked messing with you so much.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You always pushed back.”

You bit your lip, not sure how to respond to that. The Rafe you remembered from back then was all arrogance and teasing, but this... this was different. It was like he was admitting that he’d seen you in a way no one else had back then. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching cut your conversation short. You glanced up, thinking it might just be another student passing by, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Nate walking toward you and Rafe.

Rafe’s smirk faded instantly when he spotted him approaching.

“Hey,” Nate greeted with a casual smile, though his eyes flicked quickly between you and Rafe, “Didn’t know you guys studied here too.”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal even though your brain was racing. “Yeah, uh, just catching up on some work.”

Nate’s smile wavered slightly as his gaze lingered on Rafe, then back to you. “Mind if I join? I was just gonna find a spot to get some work done, but...” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

For a second, you were torn. Nate was here, right in front of you—the guy you’d been chasing for months, the one who was supposed to be the plan. But Rafe was sitting across from you.

He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms with that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, sure, the more, the merrier.”

You shot him a look, silently pleading with him not to make this worse, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation.

Nate pulled out a chair, setting his bag down, “What’re you working on?” he asked, glancing between you and Rafe.

Before you could answer, Rafe spoke up, again, “Just a little review. Nothing too complicated, right?” His eyes flicked to you, daring you to answer.

You swallowed hard, feeling both their gazes on you. “Yeah, just going over some notes. We’re almost done, actually.”

Nate’s eyes lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than necessary, like he was sizing him up. “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll just... grab a spot over there.” 

“You do that.”

“Rafe.” you grumbled under your breath, kicking him under the table.

"You wanna grab lunch after? I was gonna head to that new sandwich place, and figured you might want to come."

For a split second, you hesitated. Lunch with Nate was the safe, easy option—exactly what you’d been trying to hold onto. But the way Rafe was watching you now... Nate’s invitation wasn’t just about lunch. It was a claim, a reminder that he was the one you were supposed to be into.

"I, um—” you started, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You’d just spent the last half hour trying to convince yourself that Rafe didn’t matter. That this whole thing with him wasn’t a big deal. But now, with Nate standing right here, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting.

Rafe stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, looks like you’ve got plans," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at you, before grabbing his notebook. "Catch you later, I guess."

Before you could say anything, he walked away, his footsteps heavy as he left the library. You stared after him, your heart doing this weird thing where it felt like it was both racing and sinking at the same time.

Nate raised an eyebrow, watching Rafe go. "That guy’s... intense," he said, his tone light, but you could tell he was fishing for something.

You forced a smile, "Yeah, that’s Rafe for you."

But even as you said it, your mind wasn’t on Nate. It was still stuck on Rafe—on the way he’d looked at you before he left, like maybe he’d been hoping you wouldn’t just go along with Nate’s plan. Like maybe he’d wanted you to choose something different.

"So, lunch?" Nate asked again, his smile back in place, but it didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.

You swallowed hard, nodding automatically. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”

But as you followed him out of the library, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you’d just walked away from something important. 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Stumble

James is drunk and you are easily flustered. James Potter x kinda shy!reader

cw: mentions of drinking, being drunk, swearing, slight mention of smut

806 words

You would’ve been scared of the sudden sound of your front door opening if you hadn’t heard your boyfriend's erratic giggles echoing from behind the entrance, along with someone fervently shushing him. 

“Fuck Prongs, are you trying to wake up the whole bleedin’ city?” You heard Sirius’ irritated voice. 

You rushed to the front door to see all the commotion, you knew that James had gone out with Remus and Sirius tonight, but you didn’t expect them to be home so early. 

“Oh thank fuck you’re awake.” Sirius sighed in relief, nudging your bumbling boyfriend towards you. 

“Angel! Oh Merlin, I missed you.” He flung himself towards you, nearly sending you both tumbling to the carpeted floor. You giggled despite yourself. 

“Someone had fun tonight.” You stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the light amount of sweat coating the tendrils. 

“Oh believe me, he did." Sirius said, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "He got slightly drunk within thirty minutes and started sharing way too much information about the two of you.” Your face heated and scrunched at that, thankful Sirius chose not to share specifics. “Then he tried to order a lemonade to slow down, but the bartender thought he meant a vodka lemonade. Dumbass didn’t notice until his fourth.” Sirius cracked up, clearly finding humor at his friend's expense. 

“Oh baby,” You laughed in pity. “Thanks for getting him home, Siri.” You waved at your friend before he left, while he muttered something about can’t take him anywhere as he shut the door. 

“Y/N…” James slurred, still not letting you go. “My girl, my sweet baby girl, I missed you so much.” 

“You saw me not three hours ago, Jamie.” You said gently, trying to urge him towards your shared bedroom. He finally relented, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and side-hugging you as you both walked down the hall (you walked at least, he stumbled). 

“I know! A whole three hours without seeing this pretty face.” He tried to boop your nose but ended up just pawing at your face. “How am I supposed to thrive under these conditions? I felt myself dying, I was being drained. You’re too cute to be kept from me.” You thanked your lucky stars he was probably too wasted to notice how his words affected you. 

You were always easily flustered by James, anytime he was his usual sickly sweet self your whole body heated and you couldn’t look him in the eye. He made you feel all too exposed and all too small at the same time. Thankfully, he was a kind boyfriend and rarely used his powers to torment you (despite how much he wanted to declare his love for you every second of every day). But apparently, in his impaired state he either didn’t remember how he made you suffer or didn’t care. 

You walked through the bedroom (having to tug James away from the bed, which was very difficult considering he was both strong and dead weight), into the ensuite. 

“You’ve gotta brush your teeth, Jamie.” He whined but complied, grabbing his toothbrush and jumping onto the counter like a little kid. "Thank you." You said, being extra gentle with him in this state.

“How am I supposed to disobey when you sound so cute bossing me around?” You rolled your eyes, trying to keep from getting dizzy with affection. You put some paste onto his brush and he got to cleaning his teeth, keeping his doe-eyes on you the whole time. He brushed for about 20 seconds before jumping from the counter, spitting and rinsing his mouth. He didn’t waste any time grabbing for you. 

“Jamie, c’mon, let’s get you changed.”

“Yeah? You gonna strip me down, baby?” You stifled a pained laugh, turning to ash on the spot. “If you wanted me naked you just had to say so, you didn’t have to pretend there was another reason. Sneaky girl.” He grabbed your face in his hands and squished your cheeks, kissing your pushed-out lips. You shook him off and he quickly started undressing down to his boxers. Once he was done with that he grabbed you again. 

“Let’s get to bed.” You tried to gently lead him over but he flung you both onto the mattress. You every so gently pulled his glasses form his face, folding them and setting them on the nightstand.

“Never stop touching me, I can’t handle it.” He whined, looking deep into your eyes with enough love to make your chest burn. “You’re too pretty to let go. Way too pretty. You’re like, glowing. You always are. It’s no fair, Angel.” He grabbed your face in his hands and started kissing all over your face. 

You had a feeling the night was nowhere close to being over. 

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Eat Me, Number One.

✩ allmight x pro!heroFem reader

wanting to get a little taste of the number one hero, during the hero’s banquet.

✩ warnings and tags: public sex, secret sex, ass eating, rough sex, multiple orgasms, nipple play, breeding, size difference, age gap, (late 20s reader), etc.

shout out to my editor, tysm <333!

“fuck, this latex is sticking to my skin. shota, can we go? im not in the mood for this uppity shit, maybe we can get some ramen or something?”

“no, unfortunately the both of us are stuck here. i lost yamada an hour ago, which is really odd since he’s the loudest one out of all of us.” aizawa, your best friend and colleague, replied as he took a bite of the salty chip in his mouth. you sighed and downed the shot in front of you, while tugging on the latex of your hero suit with your free hand.

the three of you were currently attending the annual hero’s banquet, which was made for all heroes to meet and mingle with each other. yamada had spotted the karaoke room and tip-toed away from the group when the three of you arrived, leaving you and aizawa alone. you both hated coming to these things, but yamada forced both of you to come every time.

“gonna find the bathroom and possibly yamada, so we can leave.” your dry-eyed friend gave you a nod before you took your leave; grabbing a shot from a tray a waiter was carrying—downing it like it was nothing. getting hammered was your goal. maybe you could get *him* off of your mind. you maneuvered through the crowd of heros, mind bubbling with thoughts before your eyes landed on the huge figure of the number one hero; allmight.

it might’ve been the liquor finally taking its toll on your body, making your legs feel like jelly or just seeing him period, that had butterflies filling your stomach. you were beyond nervous, it had been months since the last time you’ve seen him. the last time you did wasn’t the best experience. "duty calls" he had said before he ran off. but, you weren’t gonna let that one time stop you from saying ‘hello’ and running off to find the bathroom.

you managed to walk over and tap the bottom of his muscular back, his seven foot frame towering over you as he turned toward you. his usual ‘smiling’ eyes softened when he saw you and he kept that same bright smile like always. “y/n, it’s good to see you.”

“likewise,” you quickly turned on your heels as your memories from that terrible night plagued your mind. “wait—y/n,” he grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you back towards him, his eyes scanning your face before dropping to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “can we talk?” you gave a quick nod and he pulled you away. you wanted to get answers, closure for the last time you two saw each other, so you could finally stop cringing at the memory.

the older pro hero led you through the crowd and into an empty room, which happened to be the bathroom. the seven foot tall man closed the door behind you both, and locked it—before turning to look at your smaller, yet curvy frame.

“y/n, I just wanted to apologize for last time. it wasn’t your fault that the date ended like that. i never meant to leave you like that. i know duty calls, but I should have never left like that without telling you, i'm sorry.” his voice was soft, sincere, and you could tell by his body language that he truly meant it.

a few months ago, you had went on a date with the number one hero. it was all going good, you had gotten to know each other really well during drinks and when you two had finally made it your table for food, he just disappeared in a blink of an eye. he didn’t call nor try to reach out to you, which made you become very insecure—leading you to believe that he didn’t actually like you.

“you don’t have to apologize—“

“but, i do. you were wonderful and im a little disappointed I couldn’t make this into something more serious; didn’t have the opportunity to kiss you—.”

“you wanted to kiss me?” it was silent for a moment, both of your eyes locked onto each other’s. the more the two of you stared at each other, the more your body temperature rose. everything about him was so captivating. maybe that was a perk of being one of the best hero’s japan has ever seen, but you were definitely falling for him.

it was sudden but his lips were on yours and all you could do was happily accept. your lips melted onto each other’s, dancing a smoother dance than a tango—with your tongue sliding into his mouth, tongues swirling around each other's. you couldn’t fight your growing arousal anymore, the crush that you had on the older man was bigger than ever.

he swiftly picked you up, not breaking the kiss not once. it was like a scene in a movie with the way he handled you. he propped you up against the white bathroom door, while he made love to your mouth. you clutched onto his yellow locks, pulling away from this kiss that had left you breathless. “think you teased me enough, number one. i need more of you.”

he had never been more turned on, until now. with one hand holding you up, he used the other hand to unzip your hero costume—freeing your plump and swollen breasts. allmight quickly wrapped his lips around your tender love buds, began to suck on them like it was the best candy he had ever tasted. you couldn’t suppress your moans; letting them flow freely out of your kiss-bitten lips.

he removed his mouth from your nipples, kissing between your breats and down your stomach. “allmight—please~”

“toshinori,” he corrected with a squeeze to your ass; making you squeal out. you had long forgotten about the party, or the possibility of other people being there.

“toshinori, please. just fuck me already.” he was taken aback by your vulgar words, but it riled him up even more. your hero suit fell down in an instant and he was lifting you off to the other side of the bathroom. using his quirk, he slid the toiletries off the sink’s counter and placed you on your knees—your ass sitting up in the air just for him; allowing him to dive his head right in between.

gasping, you held onto the marble countertop, while he licked your from your ass all the way down to your swollen clit. his fluid mixing with yours created a slippery mess, which caused you to go crazy. no wonder he was considered a pro.

“shit toshi—just like that, fuck…” you bounced your ass back onto his face, his big hands gripped your waist tighter; lips still attached to your wet clit. you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you and you were ready to accept it. however, much to your dismay, he pulled away from your dripping wet backside.

“wait toshi, i was gonna cum.” he ignored you, flipping you over onto your back; looking at you in all your glory before he gripped himself through his suit. “look, im going to warn you. you might not be able to take all of me, and that’s okay—,” you cut off his rambling by replacing his hand with yours on his bulge, fondling it. it left him groaning, eyes shutting from the pleasure.

“i'm a big girl, i can handle it. besides, a hero never backs down from a fight.” he chuckled at your response and gave you one last look, before he let his blue hero suit and briefs fall to the ground; showing all of him.

you could’ve sworn your eyes had fell out of your head due to how widen you opened them. standing about nine inches tall, his cock greeted you; dripping nothing but translucent fluid. it stood against his abs, twitching with need. not only was he lengthy, he was girthy too. you couldn’t help but to gulp as you thought about him entering you.

as much as you were nervous, you swallowed that doubt and angled him towards your aching entrance; after all you were a hero, you couldn’t let this scare you.

pushing him inside of you, you winced at the pressure—you had never been spread open like that. profanities flew out your mouth as he helped push himself inside, your soft walls clenching around his shaft; making him curse lowly.

he was only half way inside, since that’s all that could fit, and he began to move his hips slowly. the more toshinori moved—the wetter you became. soon, the sound of your cunt squelching and your lewd mewls filled the bathroom—driving the older man crazy. he was losing control over himself, each time you made those sexy noises; he wanted to slam himself deeper inside of you. to hear you yelp out and to feel you squeeze around him. to see all the cream build around him. to see how far he could drive you to insanity just by fucking you.

despite being a hero, the way he was thinking about punishing you with his dick; contradicted his heroic beliefs.

you on the other hand felt like you were going to die, in the most pleasurable way possible. each time he plunged inside of you, his thick tip hit your spot everytime—causing your toes to curl so tight; they felt like they were going to fall off. you babbled and moaned as he fucked the living shit out of you, calling his name while an orgasm ripped through you.

this was the most intense orgasm you had ever had. you were disconnected from reality a bit because of it, so you didn’t realize that you were no longer on the sink’s counter and now on the bath’s plush blue rug—until toshinori slammed down into you once again.

“fuck, you just keep getting tighter and wetter!” you had never heard him curse this much before, it was turning you on more and more.

he had you in the mating press position, hitting your most sensitive spot each time, while your hips and his balls met each time. you cunt was beyond wet, your juices dripped out and slid down onto the ground—creating a huge puddle underneath you.

you could feel him twitch inside of you and his strokes became faster and harder. he was cumming, hard.

a knock on the bathroom door startled you, causing you to look at it.

“hey! can you hurry up, i really gotta use it,” a voice could be heard from the other side, following another knock. you looked at allmight, waiting for his next move.

“in a minute….having some—shit—s-s-stomach problems”

“c’mon dude! you’ve been in there for like an hour”

“in a minute!” he yelled back, not stopping his movements. he was going to cum and nothing was going to stop him from finishing. with a few more slams, he released inside of you; while you came once more with him—this time you squirted all over him.

he grabbed your smaller body and rolled over on his back, with you lying on top of his sweaty, naked body.

“we’re going to need a plan to come out of here without them suspecting a thing,” you chuckled, peppering his chiseled face with kisses.

“this is why we have quirks, to get out of situations like this. now let’s get dressed, so i could show you more of why I’m number one~”

[keyotos]

may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭

feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333

the things we do

summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw

dan heng

⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.

⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on

⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?

⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.

⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.

“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.

“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.

it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?

“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.

⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?

⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.

⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.

⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?

it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?

⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.

“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”

⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.

“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.

“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”

“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.

dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.

gepard

⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?

⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?

⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.

⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?

⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?

⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.

⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?

you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"

⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.

"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.

"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.

⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.

⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.

"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."

his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.

"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.

"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."

blade (kinda modern!au-ish).

⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?

⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.

⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him

⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.

⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.

⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"

⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.

⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?

you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.

⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.

your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.

⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.

"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.

⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.

"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.

"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.

"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.

blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."

and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.

welt yang

⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.

⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).

⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.

⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!

"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.

you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.

himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"

you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"

himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"

"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."

"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."

⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.

⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"

⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.

"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"

⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??

"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.

⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.

"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."

you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?

"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.

jing yuan

⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).

⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.

"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.

"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?

"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.

"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.

"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.

"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"

yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.

⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.

⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.

⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.

your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."

⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.

⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.

⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.

"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.

"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."

⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.

you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"

the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.

"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.

jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.

jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.

[freshxsturniolo]

im sorry - chris sturniolo x femreader

summary : in which you and chris get into your worst argument yet, to the point you think its all over.

warnings : angst, arguing, fluff.

"do you think you should maybe, slow down?" your friend whispers from the side of you as you finish yet another vodka soda. you wipe at your lip as a small bit of the liquid missed your mouth and turn to her, hitting the glass on the table a little harder than intend.

"my relationship is as good as finished. no. i need another." you say. a sentence that just a few weeks ago would have had you sobbing, but now just made you angry.

you had promised yourself that you would never let any man treat you like you were worthless. you'd never simp for a man so hard that you'd be crying in your bed alone. and yet chris sturniolo had ticked every box.

he was your sweetheart. the first person to show you what true love was. but your too different personalities had finally hit heads. you arguments over the last month where harsh. unforgiving, almost. and yet you still stayed. both of you did.

but tonight had been different. you hadn't spoken in two days, despite living in the same house. he preoccupied himself with work, which was understandable, and you preoccupied yourself with everything but his presence. but when his brother and your best friend nick asked you both over dinner to talk to each other, you world had shattered.

"can you both please just talk this out? i dont know the extent of your argument but this is becoming unbearable."

you had looked at nick with a sorry expression on your face. you did feel bad, the triplets had been more than nice enough to allow you to move in and you hated the hostile feeling you were both bringing to the house, but when you looked back at chris, his eyes on his plate, and he shrugged, you felt your heart in your throat.

when he uttered the words. "i don't think theres anything left to say anymore", your world broke.

you stood up from your chair immediately, a silence around the table that was unbearable, and you kept your eyes trained on your boyfriend. but he didn't look up. you nodded, before you looked at both nick and matt, there eyes on you in a sympathetic glare, and you gave them a smile before you removed yourself, running down the stairs and out into the fresh air. you couldn't even summon tears.

so you headed to the bar. you rang your friend, who was there in a flash, but you were five drinks down by that point and you had no plans to stop.

"you're being ridiculous" your friend said now, holding your wrist and dragging you down as you went to stand up, you stumbled back into your chair and she gave you an eye. "you both need time to cool off."

you scoffed. "cool off?” you say again, looking back towards the bar.

"where is nick? or matt?" your friend says now and you shrug.

"have they not text?" she asks.

"nick followed me out" you say, remembering back to just an hour ago.

the anger that surged through you when hit the fresh air and out into the driveway was unbearable. this had been going on for too long, you yourself could admit that. argument after argument after argument. but for chris to not even look at you, and utter words so heartbreaking in the presences of his brothers without speaking to you privately? you felt embarrassed. angry.

“y/n” you heard nick shout when you were only half way down the driveway, and you turned to him immediately. you were angry but you weren’t going to take it out on him. he was your best friend. he had seen the hurt in your eyes even though you had tried to push it down over the last two days of silence between you and chris.

“please, come back in” he had said, and you give him a sympathetic smile.

“i need to walk this off, nick” you say, and he sighed when he finally reached you. you held out your arms immediately and he was bringing you in for an embrace within seconds.

“do you want me to come with you?” he had said, and you smiled.

“be there for chris”

“what he just said to you in there was uncalled for. matts with him, i want to be here for you”

you smiled. “he’s your brother. and i think he just broke up with me. he can act the tough guy all he wants, i know he’ll want you” you said.

he didn’t tell you but nick was in awe of you. he could see your anger and your upset, could see the way you didn’t know if to scream or cry, and yet your resilience in that moment he thought was admirable. you were completely unaware of the conversations that were happening in the house after that moment whilst you were now sat with your friend, but for the time being you didn’t care.

your friend let out a sigh as you finally scrambled out of her grip, declining your offer of a drink you were going to buy her as you walk across to the bar. it was busy, and you were already swaying from left to right as you used the bar to steady yourself.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

your head whipped up at the sound of the voice. a man you did not recognise leant against the bar at the side of you, his eyes looking you up and down. you knew instantly there was nothing sleazy or untoward about him. his aura gave off nothing but positivity, so you cracked a smile.

“oh, you know. just letting my hair down”

he laughed. “no boyfriend? or girlfriend? sorry, i don’t want to assume”

you smiled. “boyfriend.” you confirm. “no, hes -“

and there it is. the hurt hits you. you look up at the man who's smiling at you, already stepped back an inch after you had told him you had a boyfriend, and the argument springs up again.

"hes not here." you utter, before a laugh escapes you. where was he? you grab your phone from your pocket, no messages having coming through. you think back to the way it was nick that chased you out the door, and not him. and suddenly you feel sick. you look at the man stood in front of him and you utter a sorry before you turn on your heel, heading towards the your friend who's sat watching you from the table you were just at.

"i need to go" you say, and she looks at you for a second before standing up.

"i'll take you" she says. you nod, unable to even thank her with the surge of emotions that run through your body. you had jumped into an uber on the way here and your friend had driven, clearly knowing she wasn't going to end up drinking with you. really, she knew you wouldn't last long before you wanted to head home, so to her this was planning out exactly as she imagined.

you reach the outside of the bar, just a small one not even 10 minutes from the triplets house and the fading sunset hits you, you can feel the lump in your throat. your friend grabs hold of your arm as she pulls you down towards the street and to her car, but when you're half way there she finally speaks to you, noticing that your energy has shifted ever so slightly since being outside and the LA sunshine hitting your skin.

"are you okay?" she asks, and you look away from the skyline to her. and you laugh.

"no. no im not."

she gives you a sympathetic smile. "you're angry, i can tell. but i feel theres more too it. please dont give up on each other."

you nod as you reach her car, climbing into the passenger seat as she unlocks it and gets into the driver side after ensuring you're settled. she gives you another smile before she pulls off into the street, and you try your best to calm down. there were so many things you wanted to say to him. you wanted to scream at him. you wanted to cry at him. you wanted to ask him where it had all gone wrong.

youre so submerged in your own thoughts that you don't even realised when you pull up outside. you jerk your head up and let out a loud sigh, before looking to your friend.

"do you need a minute?" she says. "you look like you're going to cry. dont let him see you cry."

you smile as you reach over and give her a hug. "im okay. i'll be okay. thank you, so much."

you get out of the car and shut the door, double checking your pockets for your belongings. you could tell you were drunk, it had been an hour since you stepped off the driveway and ordered an uber to the bar and you'd drank way too quick, so you gather yourself as your friend drives off. taking a deep breath, looking up at the sky as the darkness finally sets in.

when you feel okay enough, you let out a large breath before turning on your heel, making your way up the drive way. you dont know what you were going to say. you were angry. you were hurt. and you feared when you did see him, you'd finally break down.

reaching the door to the house you unlock it slowly and quietly, needing a few more minutes before you saw anyone, but when you heard the three of them upstairs, you let out a breath. you're not sure what they're talking about, but you can make out the mumble of chris' voice and you turn on your heel, heading towards your shared bedroom, quietly opening and closing the door behind you.

when the door clinks shut, you lean against it, letting out a sigh of relief. but it hurts. you're drunk. you're feeling everything at once and the tears flow. pulling your hand over your mouth to muffle any noise, you make your way to the bathroom.

but he's heard you. the door opens, and his voice fills the room.

"baby" he says. and you snap.

spinning on your heel, you move your hand from your mouth. you know you look a mess. fresh tears on your cheeks. hair in a messy bun. you feel embarrassed that you'd even gone to the bar looking the way you did but in the moment it felt right.

chris' eyes widen when he sees you.

"fuck. baby -"

"baby!?" you spit. "baby?!"

and you see his adams apple move as he takes a gulp.

"please don't-"

"don't what?!" you spit. you take a deep gulp as you compose yourself, wiping under your eyes to take away the tears. you didn't want to argue. you didn't want to cry. but there was something inside you that was raging. "don't what, chris?"

"listen to me, please" he says, and walks over to your, grabbing at your wrists, but you pull them away immediately and head towards the bathroom. he's close behind you. "im so sorry, baby. im so so sorry"

you spin around immediately, and he accidentally walks into your chest. you take a slight step back at the side time as him, and your breath is harsh. "sorry? for what, chris? for talking to me like a piece of shit in front of your brothers? for ignoring for me the last two days? can you even remember what we were arguing about?"

"no but-"

"but what?!" you say, and the tears are falling again. "but what, chris? do you want to break up? do you want this to end? because thats what it sounds like to me and i'd prefer for you to tell me privately that in front of your brothers, because-"

"stop it, y/n. stop it!" he says, and he grabs at your hands again, but you pull them away, stepping beside him to reenter his bedroom. but you come to a stop. because you don't know where to go. you need to have this conversation. you know you do. but you're drunk, you're hungry, you're all of a sudden irritated and overstimulated.

so you cry. again. and you spin around to look at him as he to reenters his bedroom. he's crying to.

"please, listen to me" he chokes.

"i dont-"

"baby, stop it." he says, and he rushes right over to your side, taking your hands in his. you pull them away again, but this time he doesn't accept it.

"fuck, you're killing me." he says, and this time he grabs your wrists, pulling them up and stepping forward, trapping your arms in his hands in-between the both of yours chest.

"get off me" you say, but you don't mean it. you're angry but the first bit of physical touch from him in 2 days feels electrifying.

"no." he says, and you sniffle a cry before looking into his eyes. they too, rimmed with tears. this close you realise that they're too raw, and his lips are too swollen to have only just started crying.

"have you been crying?" you whisper, and he laughs. only slightly, but its a laugh, a smile appears on your face to.

"i love you." he starts. "I know that much is true. i dont know what the fuck has happened to us but i fucking love you. so much it hurts sometimes actually. i think thats why I coward away when we do fight. i cant handle it, y/n. i cant handle when you look at me when you're hurt or upset, it's easier to walk away and let us both cool off. and i know thats wrong, fuck nick and matt have just had my life about it, and im sorry."

you look at him. searching his face. his hair. feeling his hands and body on yours.

"why do we even fight, chris?" you ask now.

"i dont know, baby."

"am i too much? was moving in with you too much?"

he shakes his head immediately. "no, god no please dont think that."

you sigh, and he finally removes his hands from your arms. you take a step back, sitting on his bed, and he comes to join you.

"im so sorry for what i said earlier. i was being stubborn." he says, and you laugh slightly.

"we both were, chris. two days of ignoring each other."

he laughs too, and he places his hand on your thigh. you don't flinch away, but you don't reach for it either.

"do you want to be with me, chris? tell me the truth. because i can't keep being hurt like this. im not blaming you, either. its me, too."

he turns slightly to look at you, and you can see the genuine panic in his eyes. "if you were to break up with me, i dont know how i would survive. i mean it. i dont know why i said what i said earlier. embarrassed maybe, that nick had mentioned it. embarrassed i had let it carry on for two days. i dont know. but i know im sorry. not just for that but for all the times we argue."

the tears have brimmed in your eyes again and you let out a small smile, finally bringing your hand to his.

"I think we are both incredibly stubborn." you start. "and easily hot headed. and you're a social butterfly when i sometimes like to chill."

"i know" chris admits.

"but i love you, so much. i shouldn't have ran out earlier." you admit, and chris shakes his head.

"no. i shouldn't have let nick run after you. it should have been me." he says.

"its okay." you say now.

"do you forgive me?" chris asks, and just his face alone, his beautiful yet saddened face, makes you want to cry.

"yes. and you me?"

he laughs. "yes."

you chuckle, and then you finally lean in, his lips on yours. arguments were normal, you had to remind yourself that. but deep down, you loved this man to death, and he you.

when you finally pull away from your kiss, your first kiss in days, chris grabs your face in his hands. "im going to marry you, one day."

you heart jumps. "that so?"

he nods. "i already told nick and matt."

"when?"

he smiles. "when nick came back and gave me an ear full after speaking to you outside. he told me what you said. the way you were angry but you knew i would want him to be there. and it just blurted out."

you smile, a sense of relief washing over you.

"because i love you, dumbass. even if you do get on my last nerve sometime."

he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours.

"you stink of vodka" he mumbles in your lips, and you smile.

"im celebrating."

he pulls away, giving you another eye. "celebrating what?"

you chuckle. "my man wants to marry me one day." and you crash your lips against his once more.

[daydreaming-nerd]

I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader) 

AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.

Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.

Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.

Word count: 8053

As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father. 

If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.  

Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians. 

He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…

The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin. 

I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon. 

After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.  

“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him. 

Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost. 

“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.” 

My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach. 

“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”

Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?” 

I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away. 

“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me. 

“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace. 

He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes. 

“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me. 

“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side. 

“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister,  y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him. 

“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.” 

Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles. 

“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence. 

“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder. 

From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass. 

Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames. 

It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…

We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both. 

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin. 

“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.

“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished. 

“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me. 

The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.  

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed,  lips mere inches from mine. 

“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine. 

Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing.  I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp. 

I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-” 

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes. 

“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me. 

We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.

I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life. 

Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together. 

Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me. 

“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.” 

Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more. 

It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.

My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him. 

“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck. 

His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me. 

“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair. 

He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face. 

“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again. 

The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname. 

I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.

“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”

“You’re so beautiful…” 

“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?” 

“I love you…” 

I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me. 

We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.

The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms. 

Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself. 

Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot. 

From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.  

My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it. 

“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck. 

“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing. 

“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses. 

Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel  placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold. 

“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own. 

I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves. 

“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside. 

“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics. 

Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir. 

“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off. 

“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger. 

“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes. 

“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?” 

“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.

My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing. 

My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth. 

“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az. 

“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter? 

“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees. 

Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.

“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away. 

“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me. 

“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.” 

I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.

“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him. 

Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.  

“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin. 

“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears. 

“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin. 

“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it. 

That was six months ago...

Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back. 

I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading  that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it. 

My love, 

I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…

At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.

 My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me. 

I love you, and I will return to you. 

Yours eternally, 

Azriel

I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve. 

Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.

 The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand. 

“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.    

Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place. 

“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed. 

“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say. 

Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said. 

My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.

“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me. 

May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance. 

My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months. 

“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak. 

“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head. 

“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.  

Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.  

Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead. 

But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive. 

I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in. 

“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy. 

I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe. 

His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream. 

I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.” 

“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in. 

I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh. 

“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well. 

“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved. 

“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap. 

My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds. 

Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”

“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.” 

“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation. 

Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’

“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”

Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.

My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.

He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters. 

I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn. 

“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”

Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me. 

“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.

“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-” 

“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.  

“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.

“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow. 

I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury. 

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother. 

Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.  

Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk. 

“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep. 

“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face. 

I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.

I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.” 

“Y/n  don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach. 

“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent. 

I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men. 

The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.

“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him. 

“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.

My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell. 

“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.

I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.

“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right. 

“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.

I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp. 

“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me. 

The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons. 

“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year. 

He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen. 

“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.

Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.  

“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent. 

“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent. 

“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously. 

He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me. 

I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once. 

“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me. 

I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.

“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice. 

“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. 

“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.

“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.

“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes. 

“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was. 

“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage. 

“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze. 

“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.

“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before. 

“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh. 

Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support. 

“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.

“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!” 

The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place. 

Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels. 

It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.

Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians. 

I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence. 

“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night. 

“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.

“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder 

“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye. 

“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.  “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.

“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says. 

I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded. 

“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”

Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely. 

I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders. 

When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today. 

“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon. 

Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside. 

“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian. 

“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.  

My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care. 

“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance. 

“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel. 

“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart. 

“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle. 

My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted. 

“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?” 

My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.

He knew. 

Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us. 

“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself. 

“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair. 

“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak. 

“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can. 

“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.” 

I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears. 

Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.

I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there. 

“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing. 

More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.   

“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help. 

“Y/N!” 

I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads. 

“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me. 

Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.

“Y/n!” he calls out to me again. 

I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close. 

“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried. 

His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest. 

As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years. 

Epilogue: third person pov

Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.

“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.

On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable. 

When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences. 

“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch. 

“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles. 

Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow. 

They had all the time in the world.

my masterlist

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[temporarywelcome]

Home Run - Spencer Reid

Wordcount: 2.6k

Summary: The FBI's baseball team needs a fill in for their game against the Secret Service, Morgan being able to convince Reid to take up the role. However, the boy genius does not have an athletic bone in his body, Morgan recruiting the genius' girlfriend to help.

Warnings: some swearing, Spencer is like a baseball magnet

A/N: my inbox is open! Currently working on my first request right now, and will hopefully have it posted tomorrow! This also can 100% be read as a standalone, though it's kind of a continuation of my first Spencer fic "Smooth Criminal". All information needed is in this fic as well though! ok ill stop yapping

-------------------

It might have been the worst day of Spencer’s life. 

Trudging along the field as sweat trickled down his neck and back, the sun beaming down at his pale, vulnerable skin. His tongue was dry, throat closing in on him. He could see spots clouding his vision. 

This wasn’t good.

“Jesus, Reid, we just got out of the car,” Morgan chuckled, hitting Spencer’s back, “This isn’t a desert,”

It wasn’t a desert, it was actually a baseball field. Which was just as bad to the boy genius. 

“You couldn’t ask Hotch or Rossi to do this?” Spencer mumbled nervously, eyeing the field as if some jock baseball player was going to come out of the dug out and murder him. 

“You’re young. Nice and nimble. Lots of potential-”

“They said no?”

“Yes, they said no,” Morgan sighed, placing down his bag on a bench in the dug out. Spencer did the same, awkwardly looking around once again. “Look, it’s only for one day,” 

“One day too many,” 

Morgan shot him a look, taking out his baseball glove and a ball, “We’ll start simple with some catching and throwing, yeah?” 

“This is so embarrassing,” Reid grumbled, grabbing his glove as well (which he has never used before, just buying it this morning). 

“Did you break it in like I told you to?”

He shook his head, “I got it two hours ago…”

Another sigh left his friend, who walked out into the disgusting sun. Spencer hesitantly followed.

And within fifteen minutes, Spencer was laid out on the ground in a starfish position, his life flashing before his very eyes. He thought this was the end.

“Shit! Reid! Reid!” Morgan sprinted towards the young genius, crouching next to his still figure, “Are you okay?” he touched Spencer’s cheek, already starting to turn red after connecting with the ball. 

“Shit, that hurts!” Spencer hissed, slapping Morgan’s hand away. The first sign of life. He slowly sat up, cradling his cheek, “I feel concussed,” his other hand went to the back of his head. 

“Be for real,” Derek muttered in worry, “It’s that bad?” Spencer had quite a low pain tolerance, so neither of them could tell how bad this really was. “I mean, you almost passed out just being in the sun.”

“I could feel my cells mutating,” 

“Let’s hope you’re just being dramatic,” 

_________________

Luckily for them, Spencer was being dramatic, and was back to normal activity the day after.

Like most days, his girlfriend, Y/N, drove into the bureau parking lot and parked, waiting for Spencer to get out of work. She was reading sheet music for her next show when there’s a knock on their window, making her gasp, snapping her head in the direction of her window.

Derek Morgan.

With a sigh, she pressed the button, window inching down slowly, “What the fuck was that for?”

Morgan laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “Sorry, Y/N. I know Spencer is trying desperately to keep you away from the team, especially after the fiasco last time we saw you, but…”

Ah, yes. Last time. Y/N and Spencer have been dating for a year, but he has kept the relationship extremely secretive from his team, until Garcia was able to finally crack the case and find pretty much everything to know about her, discovering she was a diagnosed kleptomaniac. The team (minus Hotch, who was peacefully in his office during the whole ordeal) was completely eager to meet this kleptomaniac girlfriend, and Y/N had a) admitted to not being able to pronounce JJ’s last name, and b) stole Rossi’s keys.

Yeah, Spencer wanted his girlfriend and friends far, far away from each other. 

“I really need your help.” Morgan finished.

“With what?” She asked in curiosity.

“I don’t mean to creep you out, but when Garcia did her whole ‘background check’ on you, or whatever you would want to call it, she found you used to play softball?”

“Yes, I’ve played since I was five,” She confirmed with a nod, “Still do, occasionally,”

“Well, the FBI has this little team I play on, and next weekend we’re going against the secret service, but we’re short one player, one of us has an injury. I convinced Spencer to fill in,” he noticed Y/N’s shocked expression, “Yeah, I know. I convinced him to fill in, really because no one else wanted to, and we went to practice yesterday-”

“Oh, yes! He’s got a huge bruise on his cheek, he said it was from some special training though,” Y/N laughed, “I guess he was embarrassed. He was hit by a ball?”

“Yes, he was on the grass fifteen minutes into our practice. It’s bad. He doesn’t even want to practice anymore, but I need him for that game. We haven’t beaten the secret service in years.”

“So you want me to convince him?” She concluded.

“Not just that. Maybe he’ll be more willing to learn if you’re also there to teach him?” 

“Hm,” 

Derek frowned, “Please, Y/N?”

She playfully narrowed her eyes at him, “How much?”

“What?”

“How much did you bet on this game?”

“Oh,” he awkwardly cleared his throat, “Five hundred,”

“Damn,” she whistled, “We gotta whip Spencer into shape,”

___________________

Spencer loved Y/N.

He loved her dearly.

However, right now he hated her with a burning passion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Morgan asked as Spencer ran from home to first base. “What if this just makes him quit again?”

She had Spencer running laps. “He won’t.”

He only did two runs around the diamond before he came back to them, panting dramatically, hands on his knees, “Why… why do I have to… do this?” he gasped.

“Because, drama king, when you hit that ball, which you will, you need to be able to get to the bases on time,” Y/N replied, handing him a bottle of water.

“This is hopeless,” he began to carefully sip the water, not wanting to choke in his desperation for hydration. 

“We just started, baby” Y/N sighed, rubbing his back, “Now, c’mon, break’s over. Two more laps and we’ll practice catching and throwing,”

“I hate you,” Spencer huffed, handing the water back to her. However, he went back to running. 

“I love you too, darling,” Y/N rolled her eyes with a soft laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled as he clumsily ran along the diamond. 

Morgan glanced at her, “Thanks for this.”

“Of course. I love seeing Spencer suffer,” She joked with a chuckle, watching her lanky boyfriend move. He was so cute, despite the fact he looked incredibly pissed off. She sighed, soft smile on her lips, “I know you guys are all probably iffy about me, but… I do love him. Genuinely, I do.” 

Morgan’s lips curled up, “I know.”

Spencer finished his second lap, looking at Y/N and Morgan with an annoyed expression, “Okay,” he panted, “I did it. Now what?”

“Catching and throwing,” Y/N slipped on her glove, grabbing a ball, “Alright, we’ll start with the basics.”

“How hard can it be?” Spencer said, putting on his glove (which Y/N had broken in for him). 

“Eh, best not talk, you might end up with two bruised cheeks,” Morgan chuckled, nudging him. He was not amused.

“Alright,” Y/N began, “When you throw the ball to someone, you have to aim for the other person’s chest. As a beginner, you can practice by using the hand you’re not throwing with, so the gloved hand, to aim. Like this,” Y/N faced Morgan, holding out her gloved hand and throwing with the other. Morgan caught the ball with ease. “See?” Morgan threw the ball back at her the same way, which she caught. “You try.” She tossed the ball to Reid, who was, like, two feet away.

He fumbled the ball, scrambling for it as it landed on the ground. Once it was in his hand, he stood up awkwardly. Spencer got into position, following Y/N’s instructions. He threw the ball to Morgan, it landed a few feet in front of him.

“You’re releasing it too late,” Y/N explained, “Try again”

Once the ball was in his hand again, he took a deep breath, throwing it again. It flew way past Morgan’s head this time.

“Okay, at least you got a strong throw,” Y/N said, trying to stay positive, “Now you released it a little too early. We’re getting somewhere. Try again.”

A few tries later, the trio went on to catching. It ended with Spencer thrown onto the grass once again in a starfish position, Y/N and Morgan both running to his side. 

“Well, now your cheeks match,” she said, making Spencer groan. 

They decided to end the fieldwork, getting Spencer to bat next. He had a helmet on and everything, determined to not actually get concussed. 

“Alright, baby,” Y/N began, handing him the bat, “Knees shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly. This elbow up,” she gently touched his arm, bringing up his elbow, “Keep your eye on the ball. The ball should be chest-height when thrown to you. If it’s a bad pitch, don’t swing.” 

Morgan goes to pitch, Reid’s brows furrowed as he eyed the ball. 

“Hold on,” Y/N stopped him, “I can see the gears turning in your head. No calculations, none of that smart boy stuff. Just put on a mean face, spit in front of you, and hit that home run.”

“Spit?” Spencer gasped, “That’s disgusting.”

“It works,” Y/N shrugged.

“I’m not doing that,” he deadpanned, making her giggle. He faced Morgan, a determined look on his face. “Let’s do this,” 

“Hell yeah, baby,” Y/N grinned. 

With a grin, Morgan pitched the ball to Spencer, who grunted, swinging the bat as hard as he can.

Losing his grip in the process, the bat flying through the air. 

__________________

A week had passed, game day approaching fast. The BAU all sat together to cheer on Spencer and Morgan, Y/N awkwardly with them. Garcia was friendly enough, yapping away, which caused Y/N to yap away as well.

Until it was Spencer's turn to bat. 

Y/N rushed to the fence, clapping, “You got this, baby!” He turned his head and gave her a look that resembled a deer caught in headlights. Prior to the game, she said she won't embarrass him. She had to promise it, because he knew how competitive she was.

Spencer gave her a thumbs up, going to the home plate and getting into position.

“Bend those knees, baby,” Y/N called. Members of the secret service glanced at each other smugly, making her scowl.

Spencer did as told, eyeing the ball nervously. The pitcher was a mean-looking guy with a vicious bulldog expression. He pitched the ball, and Spencer squeaked, swinging at nothingness as the ball flew past him.

“Nice try, baby, nice try!” Y/N said. He turned his head to glare at her, before looking back at the pitcher. “Oops,” she said, making Garcia giggle.

Spencer ended up striking out, incredibly embarrassed. He had a girlfriend coaching him at the stands and a team that was completely pissed at his inability to even catch the ball. He was humiliated.

Until he turned his head, seeing Y/N, camera in hand, taking pictures of him with a huge smile on her face. She grinned, doing a finger heart, and Spencer felt his spirits lift slightly, raising his hand and doing one back at her.

And then a ball went flying into his abdomen. 

After that setback, the FBI was back to batting. Morgan landed on third, this guy Ron at second. The FBI was at two outs already, losing to the secret service by one point. 

And it was Spencer's turn to bat.

He heard some other agents groan from the dugout, making him feel like absolute shit. As he trudged to the home plate, the secret service members were all chuckling to themselves, already knowing they won another year in a row. 

Spencer felt awful.

Then he passed Y/N. She had a determined look on her face as she stood in front of the fence. “Baby, he's a shitty pitcher. Don't swing at every pitch.” 

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding. “O-Okay.”

She cracked a smile, “You got this. Make them cry. I already don’t like them.”

He laughed, nodding and going to the home plate. Morgan nodded from third, and Spencer clenched his fists around the bat.

Putting on a mean face, he gathered the courage to spit, staring at the pitcher straight in the eye (who looked a tad bit grossed out). He planted his feet shoulder width apart, bent those damn knees, had that elbow raised.

The pitcher threw his first ball, and as instinct, Spencer swung, missing. He cursed under his breath.

“Chin up, baby, chin up!”

Spencer turned his head to Y/N, who was smiling wide. Then his team, all cheering for him in the stands. His family.

The pitcher threw again but Spencer got himself, not swinging the bat.

“Good job, baby, that pitch sucked!” Y/N said proudly. She paused, “I mean, it didn't suck…”

“We're going to get kicked out,” Rossi muttered to Hotch, who chuckled softly in agreement.

The ball went to Spencer again, and this time, with a low growl, he swung hard, bat connecting with the ball and sending it flying.

Everyone gasped, watching the ball descend into the air, until Y/N shouted, “RUN!”

Spencer snapped out of his trance, bolting towards first base while Derek sprinted towards home. Once at first, Y/N shouted for him to keep going, and so he did, rushing to second.

Longues burning, he dashed for home, throwing himself onto the plate.

And saving the game.

The FBI erupted into cheers, everyone rushing towards him and hauling him to his feet, slapping him on the back and shouting in joy. After a few hollers, Spencer was lifted off of his feet, laughing excitedly after their victory.

Once the crowd dispersed, Spencer immediately ran to Y/N who was waiting for him, a big grin on her face. She already had her arms open, which he dove into.

“You saw that, right?!” Spencer asked her, practically vibrating in eagerness.

“I did! I told you spitting works!”

He was pretty sure the spitting had nothing to do with it, but he didn't argue. “I can’t believe I made a home run!” He pulled away to greet his team, but Y/N stopped him.

“Jesus, baby, you’re lucky you didn't trip. How embarrassing that would have been,” She chuckled, gesturing to his untied sneakers. She kneeled down, tying them for him.

Prentiss, who was still sitting with the rest of the BAU, noticed the exchange from the corner of her eye.

Maybe Y/N wasn't too bad.

When Y/N finished tying his shoes, she stood up and kissed his rosy cheeks, red in embarrassment. She then patted his back and nodded, silently telling him to go to his team.

With a grin, Spencer rushed off to them, babbling about his hit.

_______

A few weeks had passed, and Y/N was with some friends at a softball field, getting ready for a game. Slipping on her glove, she turned her head, smiling at Spencer who was seated at the bleachers. He waved, and that's when she noticed Derek and Penelope were sitting next to him.

Y/N's eyes widened and she grinned, waving back at them.

Then, surprising her even more, Emily Prentiss took a seat with them.

It seemed that, little by little, Y/N was winning over the BAU.

[55sturn]

✮ IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you’re struggling to see your twisted relationship with chris as something that’s just “casual,” especially when everything points to it being more.

warnings: angst, swearing, bad eating, hygiene, and sleeping habits, toxic relationship patterns, nsfw [ p in v, mentions/depictions of oral { fem rec }, choking, heavy make-outs ], slight fluff

MY FRIENDS CALL ME A LOSER CAUSE I’M STILL HANGING AROUND / I’VE HEARD SO MANY RUMOURS, THAT I’M JUST A GIRL THAT YOU BANG ON YOUR COUCH

when you had met chris at a party that a mutual friend was throwing, you hadn’t really thought much of it. you figured he was someone that would become a close friend, and nothing more.

until one night, the two of you were hanging out, sprawled out on his couch as the step brothers movie played on the tv, but neither of you were paying it much mind as your attention drifted to his face, the way his lips sat in a natural pout, their usual pink hue appearing darker and all the more enticing, the way his nose sloped, causing your thoughts to slip into something of a more sinful nature.

he caught your stare, and reciprocated the attention, the corner of his mouth quirking into a lopsided smirk as he shifted closer to you, his fingers reaching out and brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and tracing down along your jaw. he smiled at the goosebumps that began to rise along your skin before he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, gently rubbing back and forth along it.

next thing you knew, you were beneath him as his hips rutted against yours, your arousal coating both your skin and his emitting an obscene squelching sound as it slapped together, his lips nipping and sucking at every free and bare inch of skin he could spot, his left hand pressed against the couch cushion beside your head, while his fingers dug into the edge of the fabric, holding on for dear life.

his right hand was wrapped around your throat, applying the right amount of pressure that had you crawling toward the brink of orgasm as his cock pressed against your walls and filled you in all the right ways. but as your highs came to a close, your confusion spiralled.

you hadn’t expected such a turn of events, and you didn’t really have much experience in anything casual or purely physical. and your friends taunted and teased you, calling you a loser because you kept crawling back him, despite not knowing what you were.

I THOUGHT YOU THOUGHT OF ME BETTER, SOMEONE YOU COULDN’T LOSE, YOU SAID “WE’RE NOT TOGETHER” SO NOW WHEN WE KISS, I HAVE ANGER ISSUES

you finally asked chris what he thought of you, after spending almost two months in complicated hell, and you remember feeling your heart nearly beat out of his chest as he called you someone he couldn’t lose. he told you he thought the world of you, but it ended in tears as you realized that someone who thought so highly of you, wouldn’t treat you like this.

and so, you figured there was no harm in telling chris that you felt hurt by the way he treated you, by the way he’d spend hours touching and worshiping your body, only to leave in the middle of the night when you were passed out beside him. his only response cut your heart deeply, his words rang through your mind like a bell chime.

“we’re not together.”

but he still came crawling through your window almost every night, mumbling something about it feeling like home as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, or your forehead, or your lips. and every touch of his lips against your skin made you feel angry, made you feel hurt and used and discard.

you felt temporary and permanent all in the same breath, and it confused you. and it scared you. so you voiced your fears, because you knew there was no way to beat them if you avoided them like the plague. and he brushed them off as if they weren’t anything but a piece of lint on his clothes.

YOU SAID “BABY, NO ATTACHMENT.” BUT WE’RE KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOURE EATING ME OUT, TWO WEEKS AND YOUR MOM INVITES ME TO HER HOUSE ON LONG BEACH

any time you and chris got too close to resembling a real relationship, he’d find a way to remind you that there was no strings attached, that there was no room for attachment.

but despite him not wanting any attachment to you, he made you believe that he did. if you weren’t together, why was he coming home to you every night? why did you feel like his girlfriend if you weren’t? it stressed you out.

when you brought it up to him, he merely acknowledged what you said before muttering soft-spoken and half-hearted apologies against the flesh of your throat, his hand travelling down the front of your body, dipping into the waistband of your shorts as you shifted your hips off the passenger seat of his black dodge challenger, the orange racing stripes down the hood of the car fading as your eyes rolled back into head.

before you knew it, he was shifting your seat all the way and reclining it fully, settling himself comfortably between your legs before dipping his head between your thighs, making you cry out his name as he apologized to you in the only way he knew, but despite how good he’d make you feel physically, your heart still hurt as he peeled out of the parking lot.

the next time you saw him, his parents were visiting their apartment in los angeles, and you had taken up a conversation with his mom, falling in love with how kind she was. she had picked up on how infatuated you and chris were with one another, and she wasn’t aware that you two weren’t trying for a relationship. she had figured you were taking it slow, and so she invited you to their vacation home in long beach, thinking that chris would enjoy having you around.

but when you had told chris about the invitation, he was upset. he took the news with an stoic expression before shaking his head walking away, only to text you an hour later, telling you to decline it or say you couldn’t go. to say you were hurt was an understatement, but you obliged nonetheless, not wanting to further strain your whatever-it-was with chris.

IT’S HARD BEING CASUAL WHEN MY FAVOURITE BRA LIVES IN YOUR DRESSER, AND I TRY TO BE THE CHILL GIRL THAT HOLDS HER TONGUE AND GIVES YOU SPACE I TRY TO BE THE CHILL GIRL BUT HONESTLY I’M NOT

you were done, the emotional toll that being “casual” with chris was taking on you, was starting to destroy you. you either slept too much or not at all when you weren’t with chris. you wouldn’t eat properly or even shower regularly if you two were fighting, hoping that if he knew you were wrecking yourself, he’d show up to help save you from the self inflicted sabotage, like he was a knight in shining armour upon a noble steed, finally declaring his love for you. but every angry and upset text you sent his way went unanswered.

it was hard to see him as anything casual when your favourite clothes were tucked neatly in his dresser, when you were able to claim more than one drawer at his place. it was hard to be just casual when you had a set of skincare products and a toothbrush on his bathroom counter.

and you tried to be the calm and collected girl you once were, starting to give him space when it was clear he needed it, and you tried to hold your tongue, stopping yourself from letting those damned three words fall from your lips. but that wasn’t who you were. not anymore. you had fallen undoubtably, irrevocably, and deeply in love with chris, despite the fates never quite setting that up for the two of you.

and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. so you marched up to his apartment, your knuckles wrapping against the metal door, your confidence withering away as you began to mull over the possible outcomes of what you were about to do, but you didn’t get any time to revel in cowardice as chris pulled open the door, his eyes widening as he mets yours.

“either we’re all in or we’re done. i cant do casual anymore chris, it is killing me. i’m in love with you and i think you love me back but you’re too scared or too stubborn to let yourself admit it. so i am gonna swallow my pride and beg you to admit so that we can stop torturing ourselves.” you shamelessly beg, your arms wound tightly around your body, trying to protect yourself from the inevitable pain that would strike your heart the moment chris opened his mouth.

“i can’t admit something that isn’t real. i’m sorry.”

and with that, you were quick to turn around, feeling foolish as tears welled in your eyes as chris shut the door on your twisted relationship, both literally, and figuratively.

it’s hard loving someone, but it’s harder to pretend that you don’t to fulfill their wishes.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @gamermattsgf @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @thc-bolter @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @sturnifyed @junnniiieee07 @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @hysteria-things @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @bambi-slxt @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3 @mattslolita @pettydollie @dominicfikue @plasticferal

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[stllmnstr]

easy mode

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: brother's best friend au

word count: 2.9k

warnings: not explicit but veeeery suggestive, alcohol consumption, swearing, lots and lots of jealousy aka very bthb coded

note: Another reupload! I wrote another ~3k of sacred monsters today and saw this in my drafts and realized I never posted it. If you read it before, I hope you like it just as much! If you haven't, I hope you enjoy!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way. 

It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly. 

Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems. 

It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules. 

Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat. 

But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours. 

He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder. 

And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter. 

Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–

“Are you gonna do something about that?”

On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?” 

Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder. 

Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why. 

He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public. 

Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”

Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things. 

He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way. 

He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?” 

Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap. 

He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”

And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…

“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”

“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”

Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law. 

Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public. 

Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”

Like always, Heeseung lets it go. He goes with the flow, rolls with the punches. 

Well, at least on the outside. 

But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. 

That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort. 

Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are. 

In fact, his feelings are a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline. 

The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a bouquet. 

The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio crackling through the cheap speaker you stole from Jay’s bedroom. 

The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight. 

Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made from your mother’s missing tablecloth. 

So no, Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to take a sip of his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor. 

But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair and rubbed soothing circles into the skin between your shoulders as it came back up a few hours later. 

And he was there for the rest of it, too. All of the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years. 

The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers. 

There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway. 

But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance. 

So tonight, glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar. 

And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down. 

Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, letting Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being. 

Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon. 

His eyes track your movement with the quiet focus of a predator on the hunt, watching as you disappear around the corner. 

Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him. 

Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you. 

The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening. 

Doesn’t give you the chance to so much as look at Park Sunghoon again. 

Instead, he wraps long fingers around the skin of your wrist, dragging you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears. 

Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions. 

Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways. 

Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers. 

Something more. 

But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it. An escape route if he needs it. He really, really hopes he won’t. 

Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”

He can’t help it, the way his words are warped with poorly disguised venom. He really cannot stand the guy. 

“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”

Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison, is apparent. 

Your shock morphs. Hardens. Gaze narrowing, you relax a little into his grip. 

Your words, however, remain combative. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal?” You scoff. “I don’t need to be han–”

And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it. 

This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars. 

Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will. 

“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close that you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. It’s warm, leaves your skin tingling in its wake. “I’m talking about what you want.”

Something unreadable flickers through your gaze. If Heeseung didn’t know any better, he’d call it desire. But it disappears before he can name it, replaced with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Heeseung only grins. He’s not like this, usually. Even when his intentions are less than pure. Just like everything else, he flirts in obvious ways. He doesn’t play games or speak in riddles or hope that subtleties will do the job for him. 

But it’s just so easy with you. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”

If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as another scoff. “Pray tell.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. Pet names are another thing he keeps reserved for these stolen moments with you. Another exception to the rule that he refuses to examine further. 

For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they scorch in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze. 

“I’d rather show you.” Heeseung pauses, biting at his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”

You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around his desires with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions. 

The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”

Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”

Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on. 

This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”

Heeseung’s eyes light up with a renewed vigor. You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” he breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”

You smile. Sweetly. Innocently. Leaning in further, your mouth is scant inches from his. 

“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the master himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”

Heeseung grins as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. But there’s a hard edge in his voice when he asks, “You let all your friends look at you like that?”

“Only the ones I really like.”

And now you’re under his skin. Exactly where you want to be. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”

You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him. 

Heeseung is all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once. 

But Jay is still sitting on a barstool just one room over, and no matter how much he likes toying with you, you have the sinking suspicion that Heeseung’s loyalty will always begin and end with his best friend. 

He’ll press up against the line, will skirt the edge of the boundaries between you every chance he gets, but you’ve yet to see any indication that he’ll ever cross it. 

Just once, you want to be the one with him wrapped around your finger. Want to watch him become putty in your hands. 

“What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”

A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. His eyes are still guarded, yes, but there’s a desperation that wasn’t there before. “Is that an invitation?”

“A challenge,” you correct, taking advantage of his sudden surprise to slide out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead. 

The misstep might have been miniscule, but it was enough to tip the balance.

For once, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that would leave him in the dust and ones that would put a trophy in his wandering hands. 

In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice. 

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Thanks for reading :) If you enjoyed, let me know!

[moonstruck-muses]

birthday sex w sunghoon <3

- 🐰

HAPPY BELATED MY BELOVED BOOMF!! I feel so guilty this is so late but....well..enjoy xoxo

You had a peculiar relationship to your birthday. It’s not that you hated it, you just didn’t care for it. You didn’t people to be extra nice to you and treat you special one day of the year, if they weren’t going to bother the other 364 days. Sunghoon, however, was obsessed with you, and while yes he worshipped you every day, he took your birthday as the chance to truly go all out. And you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were a little flustered by it. Sunghoon had refused to divulge any details leading up to the day, no matter how much you whined for any sort of clue. 

When the day finally came, your alarm was a serious of slow kisses across your face—your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, gentle pecks at your list. You swat away the force invading your dreams grumbling as you turn over. 

“Shhhh I’m making out with the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my dreams,” you mumble.

“Ouch, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself,” Sunghoon teases against your ear. 

“Fuck me instead” you yawn out as you stretch and wrap Sunghoon in your arms. 

“Hey now, you can’t be spoiling all your birthday surprises so easily,” he says with a chuckle. 

You force your eyes open against the soft morning light and grin into the face of your boyfriend. 

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” He greets you. 

“Blehhhh,” you stick your tongue out and shake your head while you stretch. “Don’t remind me that I’m a year older.”

“And somehow, you’re still looking younger.” 

You snort, although you find Sunghoon’s cheesiness endearing. You’d give him the sun, and he’d give you the moon if you both could. 

*** 

Sunghoon let you laze in bed, but not too long. Just long enough to eat the extravagant brunch he made. There was itinerary he had planned—none of which you were privy to. But after you got ready, he took you by the hand, first leading you to your favorite cafe for a drink before taking you the ice skating rink. Both of you were former skaters, but this time the rink felt like your personal playground, both of you colliding into each other in giggling fits. The hours seemed to slip by without you noticed. Your phone consistently was lighting up with streams of messages from your friends, but you barely had time to respond, Sunghoon kept you busy. After the rink, was of course shopping, and then it was late enough in the day, you could call it for an early dinner. 

“I’m hungry, Hoon, “ you pouted. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll have dinner soon. Our reservation is at 6.” You checked the time on your phone—5:30. You recognized the road he was leading you towards—it was your favorite restaurant. It wasn’t frilly—in fact, it was very lowkey. But you had dozens and dozens of memories that you had made throughout the years, and the food there was nearly as comforting as your mom’s food from home. The two of you managed to get seated a little earlier in a booth near the back, it was early enough on a Saturday evening, you were just beating the dinner rush. 

“You’re always so prepared,” you praised Sunghoon as the server both poured you a glass of water. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, batting your eyelashes. The dim lighting and soft music made the rest of the world fall away, so it was just the two of you, dancing in a snow globe. 

“Only the best for you,” Sunghoon responded, and you felt his leg rub up against yours underneath the table. “Did you have a good day?” He asked in follow up. 

“I spent it with you, of course I had a good day.”

“No, but be honest was it fun?” “I think it was the most fun I’ve had on my birthday in a really long time.” “Good,” Sunghoon said, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

*** The rest of dinner was perfect, and you were happily buzzed by the time you made it back to your apartment. Sunghoon opened the door and you fell inside, your hand wrapped tightly around his arm. 

“I love you, Sunghoon,” you declared happily. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” He responded and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Do you want dessert, by the way?” 

Your brows furrowed. “Not really—“ He cuts you off with another kiss. 

“Well I want dessert,” he whispers against your mouth and his hands are sliding up underneath your dress, gripping into your thighs as he presses you against the wall, dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You don’t fight the soft moan that comes out of you, and you run your hands up in his hair, happy to have the night go a little longer. 

You and Sunghoon are a tangle of limbs and flying clothes as he guides the two of you to your bedroom, falling down on top of you onto the plush sheets. His mouth travels up and down you like a starved man, luxuriating upon every taste of you, and he hold you tight with every twitch and roll of your body against him. 

“May I?” He asks, voice husky, eyes wild as his hands slide to your panties, and you frantically nod. 

Sunghoon palms your center, and the friction against your core elicits a gasp. 

“Don't tease me," You rasp. 

“Ah ah Ah," Sunghoon chides. “You let me take care of everything.” He’s slow and steady, drawing out every moan and gasp. His tongue expertly glides against your wet folds, lapping up every drop of sweetness he pulls from you and fter your first orgasm, he decides it isn’t enough. 

“Let me in, baby,” he whispers against you, eyes glazed with desire as his mouth still glistens from you. You look up from underneath him and even though your body is exhausted, you nod. 

“I want you, Hoon, I want to feel you inside me so bad.” “I want you, Y/N,” he pleads, desperate to feel one with you. And you’re so wet, that when he wets his girthy tip against you, rubbing it up and down your soaked cunt, it slips right in. 

Your eyes rolls back from the sensation, and Sunghoon curses under his breath, gripping the headboard to steady himself as he pushes into you inch by inch. 

“You’re so warm and perfect for me,” He croons and all you can think about is how he smells so sweet, his lips so pink, and his touch so gentle as he rolls his hips against yours. 

“Hold on tight, okay baby?” He says softly, and you obediently dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his and squeezing tight. He feels it, feels your pussy tighten around his cock and he buries his face into your neck, trying to pace himself as his body tenses. Sunghoon nips and presses soft kisses to the tender skin at your neck, all the meanwhile picking up pace. He deftly grabs one of the pillows and sweeps it under your hips, elevating you, and you cry out his name as the new angle hits harder and deeper. 

“I want to look at your face while you cum,” Sunghoon whispers, and the dark husk of his tone brings you to the edge then and there. 

“Cum with me love,” you beg, and Sunghoon wraps his hands around your hips, squeezing tight as he thrusts into you relentless. He pushes himself up a bit and brings a finger to your clit, and you gasp, feeling pleasure in every single nerve ending. 

“Mmm—Hoon!” You gasp, “I’m close I’m close, I’m gonna come, I”m gonna come I’m gonna—!” You break off babbling, and Sunghoon collapses on top of you as he reaches his high and you unravel together on your bed at the same time, holding each other tight as you come down from ecstasy. 

“Happy Birthday my love,” Sunghoon says with a hoarse laugh as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Happy, happy, happy birthday.”