#old songs for couple dance
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Discover the best collection of old #Hindi #songs for couple dances, traditional looks, retro sangeet, and parent performances at weddings. Perfect for creating nostalgic, magical moments!
#retro songs for sangeet#old songs for parents in sangeet hindi#70s bollywood wedding songs list#retro songs for couple dance#old couple dance songs hindi#old songs for traditional look#old songs for couple dance#ladies sangeet old songs list#old hindi songs for couple dance in wedding#old couple songs for sangeet
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I ❤ THE INTERNET ARCHIVE
#text post#number one fan babyyy!!!!#i found djkurara's bashful geek dance party album every song 320kbs good quality cover art#pika club remix is my favorite song ever and im not kidding im so happy i found that#also!! on archive.org is like the best nu metal/gabbermetal album ever!!!!! the named- the named#tho it still says that is called 'the shizit' and has old cover art because it was before jp anderson got in trouble 4 naming it that#i love you internet archive !!!!!!!!!#ive also found a couple of art books in there i love that place
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School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy
So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)
What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”
Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.
The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.
Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!
So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.
I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.
A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.
‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.
Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.
Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.
Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.
“It didn’t have any words,” she said.
(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)
Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.
I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.
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Harvest Moon
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.
A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. ❤️🥴
Masterlist
🌕🌕🌕🌕
You’ve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joel’s love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD.
“Not a problem,” he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. “Milt had it. Told me to tell you it’s yours to keep… said he owes you since you were his daughter’s favorite teacher ‘n all.”
“Thanks Tommy,” you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, “this is going to be amazing.”
“Of course. Should be thanking you really,” he shrugs. “It’s about time he had a good birthday.”
—
Joel said he’d be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but you’re still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door.
“Joel?” you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house.
No answer. Perfect.
Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you can’t wait to surprise him.
—
“More coffee?” you ask, holding up the percolator.
He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.
Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. It’s nice to see everyone accept yours and Joel’s relationship.
You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off.
“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Can’t believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.” He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap.
“Careful!” you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. “Yes, you have… many times. That's why I wore it.”
“Hmph,” he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you for dinner–and everything sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin.
“That’s not all,” you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin.
He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so good to me.”
You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “You deserve a happy birthday.” His big brown eyes search yours, like he’s forcing himself to believe it. “Joel, you do.”
He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he sighs warmly.
“I love you too. Now, I have something else for you,” you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. “It’s something small, I promise.”
You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back.
“Remember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?”
You place the flannel in his hands.
“Well, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. It’s not perfect, but it’s fixed.”
He holds the flannel up and inspects it. “This is–wow–this–I can’t believe it.” He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. “I was wearing this that first day I saw you, y’know? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.”
He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of.
You know the story of his birthday, you’ve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all you’ve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves.
It wasn’t just you who thought of him today. It’s Tommy finding the CD. It’s Helen getting you the steak. It’s Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it.
“You’re welcome,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “Now, put it on. I have one more surprise.”
He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.
The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up.
Joel’s huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.
“You– how?” he asks, unbelieving.
“Asked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,” you reach your hand out to him, “may I have this dance birthday boy?”
He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head.
“This is my favorite song,” he murmurs.
The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort.
He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart.
“Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because I’m still in love with you, On this harvest moon”
You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.
You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes.
“Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because I’m still in love with you, On this harvest moon”
His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you.
The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains.
You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.
“Come on birthday boy,” you say with a playful smile, “let’s go watch the stars.”
—
You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday.
And he is–or at least you’re in his good hands.
“Oh, god,” you softly whisper into the night, you’re so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joel’s deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers.
He’s driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. You’re completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.
“Easy now, easy now,” he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. “Gotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, can’t have them knowin’ what my girl really likes when she’s with me.” Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. “See, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.”
“Want to take–neyugh��care of you,” struggles out of your mouth.
“You’re taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.”
“Want to go inside… w-want to–want–to, want to feel you in my mouth,” you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans.
“Not yet,” he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. “Like seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What you’re doin’ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.”
Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. You’ll be the fireworks to celebrate Joel’s birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, it’s so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly.
“Shh baby, you’re doing so good, bein’ so quiet, don’t ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and they’d have no idea what I’m doing to you under here.”
You’ve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now you’re sitting on the back of the porch of Joel’s house getting felt up by him.
“Joel… I–I’m gonna—”
“Cum for me baby.” His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe you’re glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. You’re sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You don’t care, all you want is to feel Joel’s cock inside you.
“Want you, Joel, want you so bad,” you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds.
“Okay baby, okay.” His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you.
“Sweeter than birthday cake,” he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. “Come here. Come sit on me.”
Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit.
“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. “Tell me baby.”
“I-I want your cock–I need your cock Joel,” you beg.
“I know you do darling,” he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.
The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt.
“That’s my good girl,” he grits. “Your sweet pussy is taking me so well, isn’t she?”
Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.
“Oh, you must like that. You’re squeezin’ me so hard sweetheart.”
You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight.
His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joel’s name, you’re trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night.
“That’s my girl, grippin’ my cock so good, cummin’ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?”
“Mmf,” is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesn’t relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit.
The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.
“Beautiful moon, isn’t it?” Hank says with a smile.
“Quite.” Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you.
“You guys get any barbecue tonight?” Hank asks. “It was really go–”
“We stayed in,” Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.
Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale.
“Oh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,” Billie offers. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you the good stuff.”
“Thanks Billie,” you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star you’ve seen behind your eyelids, they’ll leave. “We appreciate it.”
“Best be getting home,” Hank says, grabbing Billie’s hand. “We both had a bit too much to drink!”
Oh thank god.
“Enjoy your night,” Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away.
To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket��� little do they know he’s filling you with his thick cock under the shield.
“That was close,” he whispers against your ear before nipping it.
Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder.
“Guess we shouldn’t take our time, don’t want to get caught, now do we?” he asks.
“We can just–nyuh–go inside,” you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joel’s name in the comfort of his home.
“Gimme one more baby, gimme one more,” he grunts against your neck. “And then I’ll take you into my home and fuck you.”
His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. “That’s it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ‘n fuck you, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch.
“Good girl,” he groans, “let’s take this party inside.”
—
The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joel’s stereo, starting “Harvest Moon” on repeat all over again.
You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours.
“Come here sweetheart,” his voice is gruffer. “Lay down next to me.”
His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him.
He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more.
“Joel,” you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him.
“Ooh, you’re so fucking wet, you hear that?” he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. “Sounds so fucking good baby.”
He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.
Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace.
He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background.
You’re so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth.
“You want it baby?” he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. “You want my cum?”
“C-cum Joel,” you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you.
He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach.
His sweat is slick against your overheated body, you’re a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love.
He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Fuck,” he pants, stretching his limbs out. “Gonna feel this tomorrow.”
“Well, you are another year older, old man,” you tease, curling up next to him.
“Yeah,” he turns his head to look at you. “I guess I am,” he sighs. “Thank you for–my birthday and–all of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.”
“So I guess you’re still in love with me?” you tease.
“Always. Especially on this harvest moon,” he returns your smile.
---
Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal 🩷🌝
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#joel x reader#jackson joel#joel the last of us#joel miller tlou
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"You miss that?" Simon points surreptitiously to the couple with a nod of his glass.
"What? Women?" Johnny asks with a cheeky smile.
It earns him a playful smack to the back of the head. "The butterflies," Simon corrects.
Johnny leans back in the booth and spreads an arm across behind Simon, resting the tips of his fingers on the sensitive skin where shoulder meets neck. He caresses over a raised line there, a scar that's not quite a year old, and hums to himself before replying.
"Nah," he says finally. "Still get butterflies with you. Especially when—"
He's cut off by Simon pulling him to his feet and into a close embrace. Tucked into the back corner, they're away from most of the restaurant's prying eyes. Still, Johnny whispers out a "Si, what the fuck are you doing" before Simon shushes him and points to the ceiling.
"Listen, Johnny."
Johnny does.
It takes a moment, but once he hears the familiar croon of a Shania Twain ballad coming in low over the speakers, he wrinkles his nose.
Simon leans in close to his ear. "C'mon. Dance with me," he insists, grabbing Johnny's body and swaying him gently to the rhythm of the song. -Ch12 Seven-Year Itch by noxmajor
!!! As a part of @bluegiragi's charity art drive, I requested this amazing piece for a dear friend 💖 Gira, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you do! Nox, congratulations on finishing this masterpiece. Please go read Nox's fic, and enjoy all of the tasty drama!
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A 44 year old man goes to a K-Pop Concert
I promised you a report on the K-pop concert that I, a 44-year-old accountant, went to a couple of weeks ago with my wife and daughter in Toronto. So here it is.
The band we saw were Ateez. They're my daughter's favourite band and my wife's second favourite. I know most of my mutuals are similarly aged like me and may not be familiar with them so let me give you a brief primer on Ateez.
Imagine the most attractive eight men you can think of, just unfathomably beautiful specimens of aesthetic perfection, and make them sing songs that somehow combine the subjects of 'dancing like nobody is watching' with 'we live in a dystopian hellscape that we must all work together to overthrow'. Give them an ongoing music video story lore that literally nobody - not even the band themselves - understand, so that online discussion of their visual motifs looks more like the fevered rantings of a conspiracy theorist, complete with speculation about alternate realities and time being a Moebius strip. There is also a giant sand timer, for some reason.
That's Ateez. That's what you need to know.
Now, K-pop concerts are very different to the gigs I've been going to for the last 28 (!) years. There's no support act, for a start. Also the band perform for like, three hours, with breaks for costume changes and interpretive dance. Furthermore, hanging above everything is the constant looming threat of mandatory military service.
So this being my first such concert, I wasn't sure what to expect. What happened was difficult to explain, but I will try as I am already six paragraphs into this write-up and I'm too invested to stop now. Here goes:
In his Wicked + Divine comics series, Kieron Gillen places modern pop icons as deities, feeding upon and gaining strength from the worship of their fans at the altar of musical performance. I thought I understood that metaphor. I thought I understood it AS a metaphor. I was wrong, because that night Ateez WERE Gods with a capital G and we were their worshippers, a crowd emanating adoration (in the religious and non-religious senses), bestowing strength upon them and gaining their strength in return.
If that sounds weird, it probably is. But as pointed out above, I have lived over four decades and never yet experienced anything like the overwhelming passion of that crowd, the utter abandon with which they conveyed their love for the band.
"But Fuiru, what of the actual music?" you ask. Thinking back, there was a moment in one of their songs - I can't remember which - where I watched the stage, and the people around me, taking it in, and I thought, "Man, I just love Music". But that doesn't answer your question, sorry.
Ateez's music is bloody great. As a tiresome indie/rock/metal kid I'm resisting the urge to add the usual tiresome indie/rock/metal caveat of "...for pop music" because honestly that does it a disservice. They have some genuinely amazing songs. Halazia is an absolute fucking masterpiece that descends into furious hardcore breakbeat. Bouncy is a big, brash racket that somehow is also a perfect pop song. Utopia, Wonderland, and Guerrilla are similarly superb. The obligatory boy band slow number is represented by Dancing Like Butterfly Wings which will make you cry because you will forever associate it with your twelve year old daughter being pointed to and waved at by her favourite Ateez member (Seonghwa) because of her Seonghwa-branded lightstick.
That might just be me, though.
So in summary: being a 44 year old dad at his first K-pop concert rules and you should endeavour to partake in the experience if the opportunity arises.
Finally, for any Atiny reading this: my bias would be San or Seonghwa but my wife and daughter said they were taken so it’s Mingi. My concert outfit (designed and created by my offspring) reflects this.
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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel
summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.
warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡
a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.
As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.
Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.
More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.
Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.
“Who are you?”
Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.
“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.
“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”
Months before…
The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.
Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”
“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”
“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.
You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.
“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”
“Did you specify which one?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”
The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.
“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”
“Have you seen it?”
Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.
“Perhaps.”
With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.
“How come I haven’t seen it?”
“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”
Back to the present…
Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.
As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.
Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.
“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.
A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.
He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.
The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.
“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.
Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.
"And who might you be?"
“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”
Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.
“Your help?” She echoes.
"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.
Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.
"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"
"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.
Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”
“Let me show you.”
Months before…
“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”
The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.
You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”
“You spoil me.”
“It’s what friends do.”
"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."
With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.
"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."
“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”
"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,
Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”
You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”
“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.
“I’m not ready.”
You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.
That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.
“You do not fear me?”
“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.
In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.
He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.
As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.
“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”
Your throat tightens. “When?”
“Soon.”
And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.
“The tracking…I knew of it.”
Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”
Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.
Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–
“Do you see it now?”
With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.
You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.
“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.
The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.
“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”
Back to Present
Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.
“Release her.”
The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.
Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.
“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”
Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.
And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.
Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.
While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.
But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.
Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?
Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.
And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.
"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.
"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.
But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.
Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.
You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.
But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.
“You missed dinner.”
“Oh.”
You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.
“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.
"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.
"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."
"That was two weeks ago.”
"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.
Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"
"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."
You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.
His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."
"Why?"
“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”
An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”
Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”
Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.
Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”
“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.
“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”
“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.
“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”
Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.
“Stop!”
Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.
“I’m not hurting her!”
But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.
“Are you okay?”
There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”
Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.
"Like what?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.
A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.
Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.
“You’re not going to Starfall?”
“Good morning to you too.”
Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.
“Is everything okay?”
His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.
So you settle for a, “Why?”
"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"
The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.
"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."
"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.
“I’ll buy you one.”
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.
“Starfall is tomorrow.”
Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.
“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”
You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.
You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.
Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.
“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”
A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.
“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.
“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”
“Starfall.” Azriel answers.
The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.
“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”
“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.
Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”
You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.
It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.
“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”
“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.
She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”
A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.
The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.
“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.
On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.
“I li–”
“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”
He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.
Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.
As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.
"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.
“It’s 500 gold marks.”
He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”
He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.
Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.
In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.
"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.
“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”
“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”
He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.
Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.
“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”
The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.
"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.
He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.
Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.
"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.
A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."
Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"
“Yes.”
A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."
Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."
He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.
Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.
“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.
Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.
In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.
Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.
“Azriel.” You smile at him.
“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”
“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.
Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.
“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”
Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”
“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”
“Why?”
A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.
“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.
“I’m right here.”
Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.
Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.
Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.
"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."
Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.
"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."
"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."
“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”
“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”
“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.
You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.
“What else?”
“There’s nothing else.”
“y/n.”
“I feel like a failure.”
Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.
“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”
“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”
“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”
“Hey, look at me.”
When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”
“Together?”
He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.
“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.
And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.
Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.
Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.
You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.
Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.
And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.
You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.
The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.
After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.
You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.
Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.
You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.
He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.
Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.
Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.
“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.
Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.
"Elain, I can't--"
“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."
His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”
“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”
Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.
Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.
Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.
The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.
As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.
"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.
"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"
Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”
You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.
“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.
Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.
“You're going to get frostbite."
Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."
"We should head back inside," you suggest.
"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."
The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."
Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”
“Cas.”
Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.
“You’re lying.”
“You fell for it."
And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.
“I fell for you.”
You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."
"What?"
Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—
“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”
“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.
The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.
And then you're kissing him.
The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.
For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.
Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.
You are his mate.
The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.
“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.
“I have to go.”
“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.
“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.
For now, he has to find you.
His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.
“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”
“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”
You swallow thickly. “You know?”
The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?
Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.
“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.
“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!
tagging: @hellodarling1357
if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.
#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#acotar imagine#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel angst#azriel fanfic#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#abba x acotar
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Thinking about a deeply romantic man. Possibly a bit old fashioned in the ways of love. The type to sweep you off your feet to dance in the rain, the type to buy you flowers, just because. Maybe even to thank you simply for being beside him. The type who stares out into starry skies and thinks of your smile, cushioning it amongst the glowing lights. The type who watches couples pass him by and yearns to be by your side once more, even if it had only been mere hours.
The type who writes poems and songs about the way your hands fit against his. Who sings your bodies praises, every inch of it enchanting him more than the last, seeping into his fingers that strum the chords of an unknown melody. Who kisses whatever causes you insecurity, because his heart aches to think you don’t see yourself in the radiant light that he does. That you aren’t breathless with every glance at a mirror- like he is everytime your eyes meet.
Oh and is he ever so breathless. The way you sigh. The way you glance around at the world. Even the way you may duck your head after finding something you did to be silly or embarrassing, he adores it all. There is not a moment that goes by where he, all of him, is not encompassed by your every moment.
Perhaps there had been a time where love had felt nonsensical. Illusionary, to him. Perhaps there had been a time where he scoffed at the notion of such a thing, and sneered at the couples that passed him by, trapped in their own little bubbles of affection. Perhaps he even scorned them. Cursed them for partaking in something he had never experienced. Something he did not know to be true. Something he did not believe in.
And yet you, my darling, had taken all of that bitterness and loathing, and crushed it deep down into the recesses of his very being. Your hands so delicately cupped his beating heart, and let it pulse mindlessly in your warmth. You carved yourself deep into his lungs and stomach, pouring butterflies that fluttered and tickled his veins, making him feel as if he was a child again, frolicking through the saturated hues of the world. No longer colorless. No longer dull. His world breathed with the very essence of you and he could not find it in himself to ever let go.
He belonged to you. Forever. Constantly. Without a moments hesitation, without a skip in time and without ever missing a beat. He was yours. And you were his. You would be his till time had wrinkled the corner of your eyes, had sapped the warmth from your skin, and had laid to rest the beat of your heart. He fantasized about the moments your bodies were laid together, snug into a box and hoisted down below. About when your flesh would deteriorate and your bones would creak against one another.
And one day when your souls had sprung from their warm cages; he dreamed of the way you two would become the air you had once breathed, the rain you had once danced in, and the stars he had gazed into, and recalled the curve of your lips with a feverishly, beating heart.
#yandere#yandere x reader#x oc#x reader#yandere romantic#romantic#old fashioned#lover boy#yandere Loverboy#Drabble
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Getaway Car (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
Word count: 4.7K
Summary: your boyfriend, topper, isn’t making midsummers as fun as you were hoping. lucky for you, rafe is there to fix that
Tags: (18+), cheating, smidge of topper x reader, fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, rafe and reader are messy asf
A/N: kinda old bc I was gonna make it a series but it wasn’t working out so here it is as a stand alone 🫶 it’s been a while and I wanted to post something before the year ends
OBX masterlist + main masterlist
You were beginning to wonder what you were even doing here.
Midsummers was supposed to be the perfect summer event. Everyone got all dressed up to dance with their friends and have a fun night. You were more than ready for a fun night.
The light pink dress flowed down to your ankles and fit your body just right. Your makeup and hair were done nicely, courtesy of your best friend, Sarah. Unfortunately for the both of you, she was sick and couldn’t go this year. You were grateful to her for still helping you out despite her stuffy nose. You even had a date that you knew turned heads. The two of you were the perfect couple on the surface.
The problem with Topper was that he seemed more interested in showing you off than actually just being there with you.
Dating Topper was nothing you had planned. You first got to know him as a friend of friends, but you liked him enough. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say “no” when he asked you out and said he wanted to get to know you better.
Now here you were, holding Topper’s arm as he led you around the party, moving between conversations with his friends.
You didn’t mind so much at first. But when you broke off on your own to try and find some friends of your own, Topper popped up behind you.
“There you are,” he commented, placing himself at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”
You looked over at him as an arm slid around your waist. In your peripheral you saw the girls you were talking to moving away from the both of you. You forced a smile so as to not make a scene.
“You can talk to your friends, why can’t I talk to mine?” you wondered, raising your brows.
Topper laughed and shook his head. “I never said you couldn’t. When Sarah gets here we can meet up with her.”
His words meant nothing. He was already leading you back where he wanted to go.
“Sarah’s not coming. She’s sick,” you reminded him.
“So she’s not coming?” He sounded disappointed. You shook your head, feeling the same disappointment. “That sucks.”
You ended up standing idly by while he talked to Rafe and Kelce. You knew both of them pretty well, more so Rafe than Kelce. Rafe was Sarah’s brother after all.
You occupied yourself by trying to remember all the words to your favorite song in your head, tuning them out almost entirely.
“What about you, Y/N?” Rafe said, cutting through your second repeat of the song. You blinked, missing the question. “Are you having fun?” he repeated what you assumed he had asked before.
You almost laughed to yourself. There was a slight shift in Rafe’s face. It was like he could tell.
“Yeah, I’m having a blast,” you agreed sarcastically, giving Topper a phony smile—one which he bought.
Rafe smirked.
“Hey, there he is,” Kelce said in a hushed tone to Topper and Rafe, nodding his head past you. You turned and spotted the bar, where two bartenders were trading places. “The taller guy—he’s the one that doesn’t card.”
You must’ve missed that part of the conversation, and you had no interest in it as you turned back. It didn’t surprise you that getting drunk had climbed to the top of their priority list.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling thirsty,” Topper decided.
“Actually, I’m good,” you spoke up when he tried to tug you along. You saw his smile fade when you kept your feet planted. “You go ahead.”
Topper chuckled suddenly, like you were messing with him.
“For real?”
“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Rafe said as if you weren’t standing right there. You would’ve been offended if you didn’t see what he was doing.
Topper laughed it off with a, “Thanks, man,” and followed Kelce away to the bar.
He trusted Rafe, so maybe he didn’t think he had to compete for your attention with him like he assumed he had to with your friends.
Rafe eyed you up and down, taking in the way you let yourself relax.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re happy to get away from him,” he said after a moment.
“Oh no, I’m having a blast. Can’t you tell?” you questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm. You caught yourself after a second, reminding yourself that Rafe was basically Topper’s best friend. “Sorry, I’m being mean. It’s not that bad.”
“Be mean all you want,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to stand directly across from you. He leaned like he was telling you a secret. “And don’t apologize for it.”
You narrowed your eyes a little, looking him over as he stood back up straight, trying to decide if he meant it or not. After only a second it was clear he did.
Rafe threw a look over his shoulder to the bar. Topper and Kelce were waiting behind a few others.
“You wanna sit down? They might be a while.”
You nodded, because why the hell not?
Finding an empty table was a bit of a challenge, but the two of you managed eventually. Rafe pulled out your chair for you, and even chuckled at your comment about chivalry not being dead after all.
Instead of crossing around the table to sit down opposite of you, he pulled out the chair right next to yours. He sat in it sideways, so you turned in your seat to face him. Your knees were basically touching, but you didn’t mind.
“So, you here by yourself?” you wondered, just making conversation.
“I’m here with you.”
You were tempted to roll your eyes, but not in the same way you had been with Topper most of the night.
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Yeah, I am,” Rafe revealed, smirking to himself before adding, “But it’s not like I didn’t have options.”
You raised your brows at his brazenness—not shocked, just amused.
“Because you’re so interesting?” you teased, the corner of your lip tugging up.
“Among other things.”
“Like what?”
You placed your elbow on the table and leaned on your hand, watching him, waiting for his overconfident answer.
He had to have known you were messing with him, maybe even baiting him. You usually did. You always enjoyed the back-and-forths you’d have with him. Rafe gave you a subdued smile.
“Like… I wouldn’t treat my date like an accessory and then ditch her, for one.”
You chuckled in spite of yourself. “Touché.”
“And I know how to have fun,” he added, voice laced with charm. You’d never noticed that before.
You hummed and straightened back. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked me,” you joked.
“Maybe I should’ve,” Rafe drawled. He sounded genuine, which caught you off guard. “You seem bored out of your mind—well, before we started talking,” he pointed out, giving himself an ego boost, slightly changing the topic. “Why even come?”
“Topper wanted to,” you filled in, willing to let it slide for now. “I thought it would be fun, but all the things that would’ve been fun for me got totally ignored.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Rafe wondered. You didn’t remember his blue eyes ever looking this intense, but then again, you didn’t think you’d ever been this close to him.
“Right this very second?”
“Sure.”
You glanced around at the other tables. Everyone was caught up in conversation, having a nice time with their friends and their dates and their families.
“Leave, probably,” you admitted, looking back at Rafe.
He nodded, silently thinking it over.
Finally, he shrugged a little and said, “Okay.”
You started to laugh. “You’re not serious…” you trailed off as he stood, raising his brows, as if to say he was. “What about Topper?”
“What about him?” Rafe asked plainly, like he’d already forgotten all about his friend.
You blinked, then stood. You weren’t exactly sure why he’d been able to convince you so easily.
“Damn the consequences,” you whispered to yourself, although it was easier said than done.
Rafe gave you a subtle smirk, nodded his head to the door. He even held out an arm, which you took with a nervous smile.
It felt strange, being on Rafe’s arm. It was a position you’d never thought you’d be in, nor had you thought about it. Sure, you got along with Rafe pretty well, and he did look handsome tonight (and most days…) but he was always just Sarah’s brother. Then, your boyfriend's best friend.
Now? Now he was your rescuer, saving you from this dull affair that should’ve been an exciting night.
Maybe it still could be.
Rafe was leading the two of you to the door, quietly making comments to you about other partygoers. You laughed at the jokes, unintentionally drawing attention to yourself.
Rafe didn’t seem to mind the way your peers began to look at you, not exactly hiding their staring. It seemed like everyone knew you and Topper were together despite only about a month of dating. You could guess what they were thinking and word traveled fast in the Figure Eight.
It probably should’ve bothered you more than it did, the way a few started to whisper, but you were more concerned with leaving than trying to correct their perception.
“Don’t look, walk faster,” Rafe muttered, leaning down close to you.
You didn’t realize what he was talking about until you disobeyed him and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, Topper was making his way around the room. Presumably looking for you.
You snapped your head back forward, trying to make your escape while doing as little damage as possible.
The big entrance door, soon to be an exit, was right ahead.
“Y/N?” Topper’s voice carried across the room, but you kept your head forward, not daring to look. “Hey, over here!”
In the large windows, you saw his reflection vaguely in the distance. He was getting closer to you, weaving through the crowd, waving a hand.
You didn’t want him to stop you. Sure, you could’ve turned and told him to stop and that you were leaving, but that was way more of a scene than you wanted to create. What you did wasn’t exactly any better, but it avoided a verbal altercation in front of everyone you knew.
You broke apart from Rafe to move faster, speed walking the last few feet to the door. It was like he read your mind, jumping out ahead of you to pull the door open.
You hadn’t planned on it, but the two of you were rushing down the stairs of the country club.
“My truck’s up ahead parked on the street. I didn’t want to park in the lot,” Rafe informed when you got to the bottom step.
“Of course you didn’t.”
You spared a glance to one of the large windows and saw Topper looking out it. You snapped your head back, not wanting to make eye contact in case he saw you. You picked up the pace. By a lot. Not figuratively but literally running away.
Rafe easily could’ve out run you, but he chose to stick close when he caught up. You weren’t expecting it when Rafe reached down to grab your hand, making sure you were right by him as the two of you ran for his truck.
You let your shoes fall off your feet as you broke out into a full out sprint. A laugh tore out from you, filling the air around you. You felt so free as the sound of your own joy hit your ears.
You knew people were watching from the patio area, but as you arrived at Rafe’s truck, you hardly noticed.
“This is crazy,” you said to yourself as you reared to a stop. Your lungs were close to burning and your bare feet started to ache, but you were smiling so brightly. “Are we actually doing this?”
“If you get in the truck we are,” Rafe replied smoothly, opening the passenger door for you.
You opened your mouth to speak, but something in the distance cut you off.
“Hey! Y/N!” shouted a familiar voice.
Looking back towards the club, you saw none other than Topper in that beige suit you were starting to find tacky. He was running towards you, even holding one of your shoes. You would’ve laughed again if your heart wasn’t racing.
Your eyes met Rafe’s, finding the same anticipation in them that you felt coursing through your body. The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, like he knew what you were going to do before you did it.
You climbed into the passenger seat without further hesitation. Rafe shut the door behind you and ran around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.
He fished his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. The truck roared to life. Rafe looked over to you with a full grin.
You shared the same expression until you made the mistake of glancing out the passenger window, seeing Topper running towards the truck.
“Go, go, go!” you rushed out, urging Rafe to slam on the gas. You didn’t even know what you were saying.
That’s exactly what he did, speeding the two of you away from the country club until there was only the sound of the truck's engine and heavy breathing.
When the twinkling lights faded far behind you, Rafe eased in the gas. Topper was left in the dust, no way to catch up.
You exchanged a look, studying one another. The panic on your face shifted back to a smile, causing Rafe to do the same.
A victorious laughter left you suddenly, realizing the insanity of the situation. Rafe looked between you and the road, letting out a chuckle. Whether it be for the same reason as you or the way you reacted, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, finally relaxing back in the seat. “That was so exciting. Why was that so exciting?” Rafe didn’t answer, but it seemed like he at least thought of one as he smirked to himself. “Thank you for the prison break,” you told him, letting your appreciation seep into your teasing words.
“You looked like you needed it, I could tell before we even sat down,” Rafe pointed out. Why did he get that but Topper didn’t? “Besides, that was way more fun than that entire night combined.”
You let out a sigh, trying to not let guilt overcome your adrenaline high. “Topper’s gonna be pissed,” you acknowledged, recalling his face as Rafe sped away.
“So?” Rafe wondered without hesitation.
Your brows curved. Topper was supposed to be his best friend, and he’d just run off with his girlfriend. Or were you his girlfriend that ran off with his best friend? The semantics didn’t really matter in the end, it wasn’t like it meant anything other than the fact that you needed to be anywhere but that party.
You looked out the window, resting your elbow on it and leaning against your fist. You stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the dark shadows of trees and dispersed mansions as they passed by.
“Just in case Topper didn’t tell you, you look beautiful tonight,” Rafe commented out of nowhere, filling the silence.
You gave him a curious look. You couldn’t remember if Rafe had ever said anything like that to you.
His gaze was mostly fixated on the road, but you saw the way his eyes darted to the side, checking on you.
“Thank you,” you said softly, because he was right, Topper hadn’t even mentioned it.
He’d complimented your dress for the way it fit your body and went well with his suit, and he’d been relieved by the way you’d shown up perfectly on time, and even mentioned how Sarah had done your hair, but nothing about you as a whole. Just the bits and pieces.
“For the record, you look very handsome,” you told Rafe, a small smile forming. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you said something nice to me.”
He glanced over to you fully this time, a look you couldn’t quite place on his face. Sure, he was smiling, but there was something else in his eyes.
“Well, that’s good to know.”
In the past, you would’ve found admitting that out loud weird since he was Sarah’s brother, but something about being with him now felt different. He wasn’t Sarah’s brother who you were sorta friends with, he was Rafe, the guy who’d gone out of his way to rescue you from a shitty night.
Well, now maybe you could upgrade him from “sorta friend” to just “friend”. He’d earned it, that was for sure.
It was still crazy to you, what you’d just done, even if it was only minutes ago. Something about it all stuck in your head. The rush you got from just talking—okay, maybe even flirting a little—with Rafe was more than you had felt with Topper in weeks. And the great escape added on? You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that exhilarated.
“You just gonna stare at me the rest of the drive?” Rafe teased, eyeing you in his peripheral.
Your cheeks felt warm as you looked away, focusing back out the window instead.
“Where are we even going?” you wondered, ignoring his comment.
“Good point,” Rafe said. “I actually don’t know.”
You weren’t expecting him to pull the truck off to the side of the road. There was nothing around you except for trees and distant street lights on either side. He parked in a gap between houses, making sure to not be in front of anyone’s property. People were weird about that, especially the older ones. Although you guessed a decent amount of them would be at Midsummers anyway.
“Why’d you stop?”
Rafe shrugged in response, eyes taking you in. “Just wanted to be able to look at you. Kinda hard when I’m driving.” He was purposefully trying to make you feel flustered, and it was working. “Figure out where you wanna go and I’ll take you.”
Your first thought was home, but something in the back of your mind urged you to not end the night so soon. You were having fun with Rafe, something you didn’t anticipate. The impulsiveness was still making your heart race.
It only took you a moment to realize it wasn’t just that. Rafe was watching you, and you were watching him. Your lips parted as you took a shallow breath, the air in the truck somehow becoming thicker. His eyes flicked to your lips as you did so, and it wasn’t subtle by any means.
Your own hushed words rang back in your mind.
Consequences be damned.
You weren’t sure who lunged forward first, but in a matter of seconds your lips were attached to Rafe’s.
You weren’t sure of the exact how or why, either, but you wanted to. That was enough for the moment.
Rafe’s hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you to him as he dominated the kiss. All the air seemed to leave your lungs. Your eyes slid shut as you moaned into the kiss.
If someone would have told you even minutes ago that you’d be making out with Rafe Cameron, you wouldn't have believed them.
Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Your mind began to make the comparison to Topper, noting Rafe’s neediness for you and the passion of it all, but the other boy faded completely from your mind.
Rafe kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do and had to make it count. You’d never felt so desirable, and it sent a rush of electricity through your body. When he bit your lip it added an extra jolt.
It was the opposite of graceful, a fumble of limbs and tangled fabric and trying to not part from one another, but you eventually ended up in the backseat.
Rafe was on top of you now, curious hands sliding down your body as he devoured your lips. You made no attempt to stop him. You didn’t want him too. The rush was too strong.
You gasped against his lips when Rafe pushed your dress up around your hips, hands gripping your waist, savoring the feel of your bare skin beneath his palms.
Rafe knelt between your legs, fingers dipping in the waistband of your underwear. They moved further until he was running a finger through your folds. Your face grew warm knowing he could feel how wet you already were.
A low groan rumbled from deep in Rafe’s chest and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You were too consumed by lust.
Rafe slid one finger in, stroking it inside slowly before adding another one. You shivered as he thrust and curled his fingers. You lost track of the minutes before he added another one, and you were gasping by the time he pulled them away entirely.
Before you could beg for more he was already abliging you. He gripped the edges of your underwear and ripped the material from you with sheer force, then discarded the remains on the floor of his truck. He could’ve just taken them off, and you both knew that. Maybe he was showing off his strength to fluster you or he really just couldn’t contain himself, but it didn’t matter.
His hands went for his belt next, whipping it off like he was going for speed. Your eyes fell, watching as he unbuttoned his pants.
Your gaze immediately flicked away when he shoved them down.
Were you really gonna do this? Hook up with Rafe Cameron?
You felt Rafe’s eyes on you as he gripped his cock, stroking himself, watching you.
It only took one look back at him to decide yeah, you were.
The smirk that crossed his face was one of pure lust, it was like he could read your mind.
Still, when he situated himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance, he asked, “This what you want?”
“Yeah,” you breathed out, your body already overheated. “I want it.”
That was all it took for him to push into you. The slow stretch of him took the air from your lungs.
You finally took a breath when he was fully seated inside you. He watched you with hungry eyes, hands running along your thighs, attempting to sooth you and control himself.
Words failed you, but when you adjusted, you gave him a nod.
The first thrust was experimental, testing the waters. When your body reacted, quivering with anticipation, Rafe moved again.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. He had no choice but to hover on top of you, placing his forearm near your head, but neither of you were exactly mad about it.
The space in the back seat was entirely too cramped. You were completely consumed by his presence. It was perfect.
You moaned into his mouth when he captured your lips for a kiss, the roughness matching the slam of his hips as he found a pace he liked. You were already a mess beneath him, body shivering with each thrust.
“Rafe,” you whispered his name over and over. It was the only thing that you could manage to say.
His lips trailed to your neck and your hand rose to tangle in his hair. His teeth pressed to your skin, threatening to bite. Before he could, you pulled him back. He groaned into your collarbone instead, hips slamming into your ass, cock filling you entirely.
The sound of skin against skin paired with noises of desperation from both of you filled the small space. You wanted nothing else to exist outside of the backseat.
Rafe found your sweet spot in little time and elicited moans from you with every thrust. Your hands went to his back, fingers clutching the fabric of his blazer as your toes curled.
You took everything he gave you, even when the heat and overwhelming pleasure began to smother you.
Rafe could tell when you were getting close and refused to let up, wanting to not only feel but watch you experience bliss all because of him.
You felt exposed beneath his hungry gaze, but in the best way. Like you were the thing of his dreams that finally, finally came true.
Your whole body tensed, nails digging in and cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashed over you. The wave was so intense you thought you might drown in it, but Rafe was there, muttering sweet nothing in your ear, dragging you back to shore.
Before you could come down from your high, Rafe was tipping over the edge. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his hips before his cock twitched inside you. With a deep moan of your name that made your cunt throb, Rafe let go, filling you.
Your legs tightened around him, holding him there as the two of you heaved for air, riding out the pleasure together.
Finally, Rafe pressed a long kiss to your swollen lips before straightening back up.
You needed a few extra seconds to recover, so you instead watched as he tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He ran his hands through his hair and for the most part he was good as new. Aside from your lipstick staining his lips, that is.
You, on the other hand, knew you probably looked like a mess.
Rafe helped you sit up. He straightened out your dress and hummed.
“I know I said it before, but you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rafe praised, eyes drinking you in, and his words left little room for you to doubt him. “You don’t get what you do to me.”
“I think I have some idea,” you mused, cracking a small smile.
Rafe smirked, because how could he argue?
Getting back into the front seat was a little more awkward than falling together into the back in a fit of passion.
You were aware of what was dripping between your legs, and tried to not further the mess. You’d already have to wash your dress, might as well spare his car seats.
“You wanna come back to my place?” Rafe offered as he started the car again.
You could hear in his voice that he hoped you’d say yes, but you didn’t think you could pass by Sarah and pretend you weren’t there for her brother.
Oh god… Sarah.
As you looked to Rafe, you were forced to remember that he was your best friend’s brother. And if that combination wasn’t bad enough, someone else crept into your head—your boyfriend, who you’d totally just cheated on. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it.
Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed. The carefree, relieved attitude you held faded.
“I need to get home,” you decided, voice weaker than it had been before.
Rafe was quiet for a moment before agreeing.
You felt silly, not knowing what to say to him now after all that, but you couldn’t get out of your own head, wondering if you were a terrible person.
Well, more accurately, you couldn’t stop thinking about the answer. You were certain you knew it.
When Rafe stopped outside of your house and put the truck in park, he looked at you with a gaze so intense you were held in place.
“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N,” Rafe professed, tone steady. He believed it. “I know you know that.”
You almost opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.
“Goodnight, Rafe,” you said instead, climbing out of the truck.
As you crossed across the front, you heard the light buzz of his window rolling down.
“I’ll see you soon, alright?” Rafe called, prolonging the goodbye. “I had fun,” he added, and your footsteps faltered. “And I don’t regret a thing.”
Rafe stayed until you got to your front door, found the key under the mat, and slipped inside.
Only when the door shut did the truck pull away. You may or may not have watched out the window, his parting words replaying in your mind.
As guilty as you felt, you didn’t either, and that might’ve been the worst part.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#outer banks#obx#quin-ns writing#rafe cameron smut
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Use Me Up | boyfriend's best friend!h
Originally posted on Patreon!
Summary: Harry's your boyfriend's best friend and he's very hard to resist.
Word Count: 7,072
Warning: smut, cheating, lying, alcohol consumption
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Look at him. Dark curls, soft green eyes, broad shoulders. All fit and tattooed with that dirty smirk aimed in your direction. It’d been like that all night. When no one was looking his eyes were on you.
Harry Styles. The object of desire for so many women. But the problem for you was that he was your boyfriend’s best friend. You should have been off-limits. He shouldn’t have even been taking part in your daydreams.
You rolled your eyes at him as Colin knocked his beer over.
Everyone had a couple too many drinks at that point. Your boyfriend, the worst off.
“Here,” you leaned down and righted the spilled can to halt the beer from pouring out.
Colin fell back into the couch and laughed as you got up to take the nearly empty can to the trash.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with that!”
“I actually think it’s time for a little water,” you countered.
Walking into the kitchen you took a breath and grabbed two cups for water. You needed some as well. You’d been hitting the strawberry lime seltzers kind of hard since you arrived at Ivy’s and you were feeling the alcohol.
“Need help?”
You turned to look over your shoulder as you shut off the faucet.
“I’m pretty sure I can handle this,” you laughed as you raised your hands, a cup of water in each.
Harry reached into the fridge to grab himself another beer, “All right. Was just being nice. You done drinking for the night?”
“Probably. Colin is for sure done. Gonna have to carry him home I think.”
“I’ll help you. I can tell he’s well past his limit. There’s no way you’re going to have an easy go of it with him. He’s like Gumby when he gets drunk.”
You laughed and Harry licked his lips as he watched you. You hated (but you loved it) when he licked his lips while he was looking at you. It elicited memories of the not-so-long-ago past.
. .
You arrived at Colin’s a little early but you knew Harry’d be there and he’d let you in until Colin showed up.
He got you a soda from the fridge and you both went into the living room where he showed you their new record player.
“It’s got great sound and check this out,” he pulled out an album and placed it over the turntable showing you how the tone arm lowered automatically and cycled the vinyl around to the perfect spot to begin at the first song.
“Oh, that’s cool!” You watched as he clicked a button and sound started playing through the speakers. It was an old popular 70s rock song, “The sound quality really is good.”
He snapped his fingers and began to move his hips as he grinned at you so you placed your soda down and mimicked him, swaying and laughing as you snapped your fingers.
Behind Harry’s grin, you saw something else. The way he licked his lips, his eyes traveled over your curves, and he slunk in closer as he moved to the music- it held some kind of intensity that you weren’t sure how to work out. One thing was for sure; Harry was a flirt and your boyfriend was not home.
“You’re cute,” Harry said it so flippantly as he jutted his chin up and kept his eyes on yours.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah right…”
But he did this thing that had you feeling a slurry of scorching lava under your fingertips as he bit into his bottom lip with his eyelids drooped gently, pupils winding over your hips while you continued to move and he pulled your hand into his, redirecting your flow until you were practically dancing in his arms.
“You know you’re cute. What are you doing dating Colin anyway?”
His hand wound over your hip as he kept his eyes on yours.
“I…” you laughed and shook your head. You weren’t sure what he was doing but it had you reeling. His heavy presence and deep voice, the music lulling you into surrender, his pretty bright eyes, that evil grin… It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d flirted with you in private.
“You’re too good for him, Y/n,” he spoke smoothly, his face nearing yours and his voice dripping with lusty deception.
“I doubt that, Harry,” you spoke just above a whisper as he slithered around you until his hands were holding your hips and your back was against his chest. You knew it was wrong. You knew you should have stopped but you didn’t want to.
And when you felt his breath on the back of your ear and he pressed his hips against your bum you softly gasped but made no move to stop him. He was too close and his lips were practically brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept swaying you in step with his movements, hips glued to your backside, and then he moaned. The sound vibrating off your neck and making goosebumps rise up on your skin.
You closed your eyes and settled your hands over his when he let out another graveled moan into your ear, “You like this don’t you? Need more attention from Colin than he can give you…”
It was true. You were a bit needy while Colin was a bit cold, aloof. But it’d always been that way with you two and you’d settled and gotten used to the way he was. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss attention. And Harry was suddenly filling in the small gaps left behind from Colin’s apathy.
But the moment you heard the keys in the door, Harry moved away from you just as deftly as he’d pulled you against his chest and acted like nothing had happened.
. .
You forced Colin to drink his whole cup of water and by the time he’d finished he was already half asleep. It was time to go and Harry accompanied you.
“You don’t have to help,” you said as the three of you climbed into the back of a taxi together.
“Look at him, Y/n. What makes you think he’s gonna be able to walk to the door on his own? You certainly can’t carry him. Besides, I live at the same house and it was time for me to go as well. Saves us money anyway, yeah?”
You nodded. He had a point you supposed.
You were smushed between Harry and Colin in the backseat. Colin was like a limp noodle against you while Harry was warm and solid and somehow he took up so much more space than you imagined he would.
“You’re gonna stay over, right?” Harry looked down at you.
“I figured I would, yeah. It’s not a problem?”
Harry chuckled and looked out his window before putting his big palm over his thigh, knocking against your knee, “Of course it’s not a problem. I love it when you’re over.”
You couldn’t take your eyes off his pinky finger which was nudged against your jeans. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just because the space was so tight but you certainly didn’t mind it. Looking over at your boyfriend his mouth was dropped open and his eyes were closed. Out cold.
“He’s not waking up for the rest of the night,” Harry spoke quietly, his lips aimed toward your ear.
You gulped when Harry shifted the slightest, pressing his side into yours, and began moving his hand over his jeans-clad thigh, his pinky brushing over your own jeans-clad thigh.
When you arrived at the house, Harry pulled Colin out of the backseat and lifted him into his arms bridal style. You laughed at the sight and followed the men toward the door.
“Keys are in my front left pocket,” Harry said as he jutted his hips out and looked at you with a smirk.
You sighed and slid your fingers into his pocket, which was a bit tight, but you pushed in until you felt the metal and looped your finger into one of the key rings to pull at it.
Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth, “There you go, Y/n. Just like that.” Harry said it as if you were doing something naughty to him.
Unlocking the door you stepped in and held it open for Harry, who walked past you and took his best friend to his bed, laying his head on the pillow and then removed his boots. You watched from the doorway of Colin’s room as Harry took care of him, light shining into his room from the hallway.
Harry grunted when he pulled the last boot off and then got up to leave the room, closing the door behind himself.
You pointed toward the doorknob, “I’m probably just gonna call it a night actually.”
Harry pressed his lips together, hiding the grin that was trying to take over his features, “Nahh… stay up a little longer with me. Don’t go to bed yet.”
It was a terrible idea. You weren’t being forced to follow him away from Colin’s room. You weren’t being manipulated or deceived. You were curious, though. Wondered what might happen if given the chance.
You both had a bottle of water as you sat on the stool near the record player and Harry sat on the couch across from you, his legs spread apart.
“Why you all the way over there?” He licked his goddamn lips again as he looked at you with what could only be described as bedroom eyes; that half-lidded, sultry gaze.
“I don’t know. I just sat here is all,” you shrugged and capped your water bottle before placing it on the floor by your feet.
“You got work tomorrow?” He asked as he crossed an ankle over his knee before his ring-clad fingers ran up and down his thick thighs.
“No. I don’t work Sundays. What about you?” You already knew the answer.
“Nope. Means we can stay up as late as we want. Colin won’t wake up til afternoon anyway. When he gets like this he’s a log.”
You laughed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen him like this a few times. You’re right.”
“Why don’t you put a record on,” he gestured toward the turn table next to you.
You squatted down to go through the records, tracing your fingers over the dust jackets until you found one that had a mix of popular 70s songs, “You guys have a lot of 70s music.”
Harry crouched down next to you to see which album you were looking at, “S’cause these are all used and plus 70s music is pretty good, yeah?” He grinned at you, taking the record from your hands and stood up, “Want this one?”
You nodded and watched him put the vinyl on the record player and then hit the button for the music to begin. The song that started to play sounded like something instrumental at first but then you heard the first line Got a black magic woman…
Harry turned to look down at you and began bobbing his head and rolling his shoulders, moving to the music. You laughed at him. He was being a little goofy with his movements but the dimpled grin on his face was evidence that he was trying to make you laugh. You swung your arms then raised them over your head and spun around with your hips swaying.
You and Harry kept moving to the song and then he was behind you, singing the words to the song when you felt him moving in step with you, “She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me… Don’t turn your back on me baby…”
You laughed as he sang just loud enough for you to hear his raspy voice in your ear.
“Is my singing funny to you,” you felt his hand on your arm, nudging you back toward him.
You turned to look back at him over your shoulder, “You’re just funny, Harry. You’re being goofy.”
“Oh yeah? You think I’m goofy?” He held your arm as he pressed his chest into your back and continued singing, “Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks…Don’t turn your back on me, baby… You just might pick up my magic sticks…”
You moved with the music and couldn’t help the cheesy grin on your face as he brought a hand down to your hip while his other stayed wrapped around your upper arm.
He sang his breathy words into your ear and it made your skin to heat but the way he was holding you against his body had your resolve crumbling. Not that you had much resolve to begin with.
“Yes, you got your spell on me, baby… Turnin’ my heart into stone… I need you so bad magic woman, I can’t leave you alone…”
You moaned, the top row of your teeth jammed into your bottom lips and he squeezed at your hip as his lips grazed against your ear.
You knew this would happen. When you were looking through the albums you wondered if he’d get up and dance with you. If he’d pull you into his arms and seduce you like he nearly did that time before. Or any of the other times he flirted with you or touched your skin, or whispered compliments into your ear when Colin wasn’t paying attention. There was only so much a girl could take when a man like Harry was coming on to her.
And who would ever know?
You raised your arms and drew your hands to the back of his neck as he continued swaying you in his arms, his crotch glued to your bum and you felt every bit of him pressed into you. His hot exhale on your neck was damp on your skin just before his pink lips found your flesh.
It sent a crackle of electricity through your spine as he began to kiss your soft skin slowly and when the song changed you found yourself being turned in his arms, all blurry and hot and thirsting when you felt his mouth smeared against yours.
He cradled the back of your head as his lips pressed plush kisses to your mouth and then his tongue slid over yours.
You’d stopped moving altogether and instead just stood next to the record player as the music played and you made out with Harry. If Colin walked in you didn’t know if you’d be able to even stop then. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his hands were rewiring your brain chemistry and all you wanted was him.
A cracked moan fell from your chest as Harry pulled away, his eyes locked on yours as he tugged at you, moving you toward his bedroom.
The Bill Withers song was still playing in the background as you were led to his room.
I want to spread the news… That if it feels this good getting used… Oh, you just keep on using me… Until you use me up…
He shut his door and the sound of the song was muffled but when he put his hands on your hips and his soft lips found yours you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled at him until you were both on his bed, limbs tangled and mouths wound together.
He rolled to his back and pulled you over his legs so you were straddling his thighs on top of him as you kept kissing and groaning into his mouth.
You could feel how hard he was in his jeans as you rolled your pelvis gently down and he hissed, “Keep doing that and I’m not gonna be able to stop, Y/n.”
You laughed into his mouth and pulled away to look down at him, “What are we doing, Harry?”
He let out a breathy chuckle as he kept a hold of your hips, “We’re doing something very bad is what we’re doing.”
Biting your lip you looked at his kiss-swollen mouth and back into his eyes, “We shouldn’t though, right? This is bad.”
He licked his lips, “We shouldn’t. But who’s gonna stop us?” His big hands moved down to your thighs. “What if it’s just our little secret? No one has to know.”
You dropped your lips back down over his in an unspoken agreement. No one ever had to know. It’d be your dirty little secret. A naughty indulgence to never be spoken of again.
When you felt his fingers smooth up to the bottom hem of your shirt you felt him tugging it upward. Halting the movement of your mouth against his you sat up and shucked it from your torso. His hands immediately found your tits as you unhooked the back of your bra and the moment your nipples were bare to him he sat up, one arm winding around your low back as his hand cupped your fleshy breast and he ducked to pull it into his mouth.
Wet saliva coated each of your tits as Harry wove his mouth back and forth on your skin and your nipples. You slid your fingers into his hair and moaned as he leaned you back further until your back was on his mattress and he was hovering over you, undoing your jeans button.
You looked up at him and pulled at his t-shirt. You wanted to see more of him. You’d seen his bare chest before. You’d seen him in just running shorts a few times. The man was ungodly. Tattoos, chiseled pecs, and soft abs with masculine hair scattered over his chest. Strong arms that could crush and thighs that allowed him the sort of endurance you were sure would come in handy that very night. He was broad and dense, heavy and sexy as fuck.
When his skin was on view you ran your hands over his shoulders and down to his pecs as he began to undo his own jeans. You quickly pushed your fingers into your waistband and yanked your jeans down your legs until you were just left in stretchy red boyshorts.
Harry groaned and kicked his jeans off and then crawled back over you, carefully fitting himself between your thighs and laying his hips against yours, his hard cock, hidden by the thin layer of his boxers, rested over your pussy as he slowly rocked himself down. You lifted your hips upward to feel his girth and the heat of him between your legs.
Dry humping. You hadn’t done it since your first year of college. Guys tended to go right for getting naked and getting something wet as soon as possible.
Though, technically Harry was getting something wet. Between his tongue on your lips and your pussy secreting arousal with every nudge of his dick against your clit there was nothing dry about dry humping in that moment. Even his boxers were getting wet the longer you two went at it.
He began to move himself down your body, taking more time to lavish your breasts with his tongue and his lips before he licked into your belly button triggering a giggle to bubble out of your mouth. He placed his hands on your hips and dug his fingers under the elastic band at the top of your underwear and began to pull at them, to which you lifted your hips so he could tug them off.
Smoothing his big palms up the outside of your thighs to your hips he kept his eyes on the glistening space between your legs and puffed out a breath, “This is all mine tonight?” He looked up at you and it was dripping hedonistic lust as his thumbs slid down over the soft flesh of your pelvis.
You nodded and breathed out a yes before he slowly poked his tongue out to lick his lips and lowered his mouth to the space next to his thumb, a warm kiss smushed into your skin before it sliced a damp path inward to your mons. You were spinning and blubbering under him as he gripped onto the underside of your thigh and held you apart.
Your body was trembling before he even laid his tongue over your pussy but when he finally pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to your clit you could have just perished right then. You balled up the blanket under you in your fists as he began to run his tongue up and down your wet pussy.
You sputtered out a string of curses and rolled your hips up when he slid his fingers over your entrance and prodded in.
“Mmm…” he lifted his face to look up at you, “Y/n… you’re so wet for me. Gonna need to sneak tastes of your pussy anytime Colin isn’t around.”
You couldn’t respond other than to moan his name and thread your fingers into his hair when he reattached his lips.
There was something about the way Harry did it, the way he licked at your pussy and kissed your clit, the way he drove his fingers into your cunt and moaned over you that was so sultry and hungry… it was like he needed it, like he was desperate for it. For you.
The house was quiet. It was lucky Colin slept like the dead when he got drunk like that or you’d have to worry about him hearing. But as it was, Harry’s bedroom was filled with the sound of something lewd and wet and achy. Moans coming from you and from him, your pussy getting worked by his fingers and his mouth, the shift of bodies over blankets and the subtle creaking of his bed as he dug into your pussy with more fervor.
And you really tried not thinking about the way Colin did it versus how Harry was doing it but you were amazed at what a little enthusiasm could feel like. Colin ate you out, sure, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t a man with a primal need to make you feel good and stake some kind of claim on you. Colin’s method was more like a means to an end. A way to get you nice and wet so he could stick his dick inside of you.
Harry’s method was an animalistic craving. He wasn’t eating you out nicely with a soft tongue and a few slurps. No. This was something else. He was devouring you. Sloppy and sopping. He dragged his tongue over you like it was his fucking job. The one arm he had wrapped around you, was anchoring you to his mouth. You couldn’t escape him if you wanted. This man wasn’t taking it easy. When he lifted you slightly, he scooted in closer and removed his fingers from your pussy and licked up the wet spots on your inner thighs and down your bum before he spread you back open with two of his fingers again and got back to ravaging your clit.
You had to release his hair and go back to gripping the blankets as you felt your body wash away into the atmosphere, floating and buzzing and melting as you lay helpless under his weight and his tongue.
You were certain it was going to be a mess when he was done with you. There wasn’t anything dry between your legs nor on his face. The heat and the moisture rose until there was nothing left for you to do but come. And come and come…
He had his fingers pressed into your front wall massaging your g-spot as he sucked and drew your clit into his mouth. You couldn’t stop shaking or crying for what felt like minutes upon minutes.
But then it was too much and you squeaked a laugh as you tried lifting and pulling away but when you pushed at his forehead he swatted you away and grunted, not letting up on the doggish way he was eating you.
“Oh my god! Fuck, Harry!” You bellowed into his room and tried closing your legs and moving to roll to your side but he had you pinned down and it seemed only to egg him on. His eyes flitted up to yours and in warning to keep still, not that you had much choice. He wasn’t budging nor letting you pull away from his mouth as he continued fucking you with those long fingers and lapping all around your hot, pulsing clit.
But then you saw the slight smirk as he lifted for air before he dove down again and slid his tongue quickly over your clit and the sensitive, too-much feeling turned into a liquid ache and then desire as you felt you second orgasm begin to prick and burst until it was forced out of you like a torture method. Come or else…
So you came again. Not against your will but not by your own accord. It was automatic. You couldn’t stop it from happening.
You were drifting into the ether when he finally, fucking finally, pulled his mouth and his fingers away. When you opened your eyes he was smirking down at you, like he was proud of the state he’d left you in.
“What?” You croaked out as your chest heaved violently.
“I’m serious. Gonna need to do that to you as often as possible. Whenever Colin’s not looking. Damn you’re hot, Y/n. Fuck…” he ran his hands over your sides and up your torso to your nipples where he circled over them with his thumbs, “Wish I’d gotten to you first.”
You pushed yourself to sit up, “You… he’s your best friend, though. I mean… I just think…” you huffed, not fully having your wits about you after what he’d just done to you, “God… I wouldn’t be able to say no, but this is bad, Harry. Don’t you think this should be a one-time thing? Like, we should never do this again, right?”
You watched him lick his lips and swallow and that’s when you noticed he had your arousal down his neck. The guy had gone in so intensely on your pussy that you dripped down his neck. You supposed he had reason to be proud.
“We’ll see, won’t we? I’m not a great friend, I’ll admit. But you’re not a great girlfriend either are you? Doing this behind his back the way we are… it’s bad, but fuck if I don’t want to steal you away from him.”
You puffed a laugh through your nose and ran a hand over your face. You couldn’t believe you were cheating in the first place. It was insane. You weren’t a cheater.
But actually… you were a cheater. You were lying in your boyfriend’s best friend’s bed completely naked and freshly zonked from two orgasms. You were absolutely a cheater.
Harry pulled at your thigh, dragging you closer to him and he cradled the back of your head with his hand and kissed you so deeply you nearly forgot Colin’s name for a moment. You could feel his erection, stiff and hot against your inner thigh and you were compelled to run your hand over his boxers to grip him and feel it in your hand.
You gasped into his mouth and parted from the kiss to look down at the monster you were holding in your palm. Looking back up at Harry with your lips parted in lust you were suddenly hyper-aware that the man you were in bed with was going to fuck you with that thing and if he was as good with his cock as he was with his mouth… you were surely doomed.
“What is it?” He asked you with hooded eyes and a syrupy, deep, lusty voice. He knew what it was. The man was more than aware of the kind of advantage he had in that area.
You squeezed around him let your palm travel up the length of it over his boxers and pressed over his tip, “Let me see it.”
He grinned at you silently as he pulled at his boxers and brought them down, his thick shaft lobbing out, heavy and stiff. You let out a moan and moved back, getting to your knees and holding him at the root against his pubic hair before tonguing over him and drawing your saliva down the length of him.
Harry hissed as he leaned back, palms flat against his mattress as he watched you suck on him for a moment, lips working over his tip and wetting him with your spit. You moaned again and pulled off of him, “God, Harry. Fuck…”
He held the back of your head as you dipped down again and took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gorging on the taste and feel of him. It was smooth and hot against your tongue. He was wide, bulbous. But you couldn’t help the way just the look and feel of his cock had your already weeping pussy flutter and clench at the thought of him driving into you with it.
“You like that, don’t you? God, you’re supposed to mine, Y/n. Oh fuck that feels good…”
Your insides were feeling too hollow, your walls straining together to feel something that would take up the empty space. You popped off of his tip, saliva dripping down your chin, “Fuck me. Please.”
Harry tilted his head to the side, “Already? You don’t need a minute to recover? You that greedy, baby?”
“I am right now,” you pulled at his boxers to get rid of them. Harry put his hands into the band of his underwear and took them off completely.
“Just right now? So tomorrow we’ll go back to normal then,” he crawled over you, making your back hit the mattress as his hand found your tit, “Pretend this never happened and never do it again, yeah?”
You panted and reached around his back to pull him down, “I don’t know…” you whined and bucked your hips up, “Just… right now is all I can think about. Please…”
“A bit cockdumb huh? You’re not thinking straight, are you?”
You scrunched your face and pouted, “What? Just fuck me, Harry!”
He grinned at you and shook his head in disbelief, “No condom then?”
You’d forgotten. You were always so good about using condoms and being the one on top of that decision with Colin. Only a few times did you ever let him fuck you without one and it was only when you were 100% sure it was not during your fertile window and he wasn’t allowed to come inside you anyway.
“Fuck…” you breathed out and whined as you raised your hips upward, pressing your wet pussy against his cock, “Just fuck me. I don’t even care right now. I’m gonna lose my mind…”
Harry grabbed your chin and his eyes pierced into you as he spoke, “Are you on birth control?”
You shook your head, “No. But… god…” you writhed under him.
Harry let out a burst of a laugh, still shaking his head, “Damn. Did I do this to you? Baby you’re gonna regret it if you let me fuck you raw. That’s asking for trouble.”
“Just… goddamnit…” you closed your eyes and groaned. You wanted him right then. You were sure you’d never acted like such a slut before but Harry’s body and his deep voice, his eyes, the way the front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours… He could just slip right in and pound away and you’d feel all of him. Every ridge and wrinkle, hot velvet gliding through your gummy channel, drinking him in…
When you raised your hips again, your eyes on his he nudged himself down toward you, his cock sliding through your pussylips, slicking up and down and jabbing at your clit you clung to his back tight.
“You want it? Like this?” He placed his forearm down on the bed alongside your shoulder as he rocked down over you, his tip traveling over your pussy and getting drenched in your juice.
“Mmm… Harry… yes…”
He softly kissed your lips as he rutted up and slid back, “You’re gonna let me fuck you bare? In this bedroom right here, next to your boyfriend’s? You sure?”
You nodded, your nose bumping against his as you breathed out the word please.
He parted from the kiss and set his eyes on yours as he flexed his thighs and poked at your hole gently with his tip. He teased you for a bit, only gently pressing just the very tip of himself into you until suddenly and all once he forced his crown through your tight, pulsing muscle, opening you up and burying himself in until his balls were tucked against your ass.
You both let out a loud and pathetic mewl at the sensation and you could feel him shaking already. It was decadent and rude and sumptuous and unbearable. It was so wrong. So bad but so fucking delightful.
He began to slowly thrust as he kept his gaze pinned to yours, “Okay? Feel good?”
You moaned as you nodded and kept a tight grasp on his back, wrapping your legs around him so you could keep yourself grounded. So that you knew it was real. That Harry was actually fucking you with his big cock and you weren’t just dreaming it.
“Yeah? Feel all of me like this, don’t you? Needed me so bad and now you’ve got me, baby. Gonna give you my cock whenever you want it. Sneak around behind Colin’s back and keep it secret. He’ll never know. Could fuck you all night and all morning and he’ll wake up tomorrow with no idea of the filthy kind of girl you are.”
“Mmmm… fuck!” You whined as he plunged deep inside your guts. You’d never had anyone so thick and long before. And it was just a bonus that it was attached to a man like Harry. It shouldn’t have surprised you that someone with the kind of confidence he had would be so hung.
“Mmmm… fuck is right… that feels so fucking good. I had a feeling your pussy would be made for me,” he panted his words as he worked into you, thighs flexing against yours.
Your noises were uncontrollable. You had no ability to restrain yourself. You truly were intoxicated, incapacitated, obtunded. Delirious. Which Harry seemed to get a kick out of.
“You’ve never had it like this before, have you? I know what you had to deal with,” he gasped when you gripped tight around and dug your nails into his back, “Colin’s a lazy boyfriend. You need more attention and I can see that. Gonna give you all the attention you can handle if you want it, Y/n…”
Harry pulled back, making your legs fall from his back as he lowered his lips to your tits, curling himself over you as he continued fucking into you, sucking your nipples into his mouth and running his tongue over your sensitive nubs one at a time.
It was debauched gluttony. Harry was so much better in bed than Colin and it almost wasn’t fair. But you couldn’t even feel an ounce of guilt because it was the best thing you’d ever felt. Harry sucked your nipples hard as his cock wrecked your insides, running his hand along the outside of your soft breast and then to the other side, continuing the pace at which he rocked into you. His bed only creaked in time with his thrusts, slow and steady, but the sound of your sodden pussy taking his big cock was salacious and lewd.
Every stroke of his long dick through your pussy walls felt like damnation and salvation all at once. You weren’t sure you’d be the same after. Weren’t sure you wouldn’t be begging him for more every time Colin wasn’t watching. Harry had ruined you.
Harry’s gasps and pants against your tits grew more desperate and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, nudging deep into your tummy and slowly rearing back, his cock coated and sticky with you before plunging it all back inside of you again.
He steadied himself, lifting up to look down at you as he began to fuck into you a little harder, his bed bouncing a little more with the sound of skin slapping together and your punched moans filled the room.
Every time he buried himself in he ground his pelvis against your clit and it sent fireworks through your nervous system. You grabbed onto his thighs as he rutted into you, deep and desperate strokes that split you wide open and made you drool it felt so good. Harry’s chest was sweating as he held your hips down and circled his groin against you, his moans growing louder and whinier as he watched you slowly come undone.
“Give me another one, baby. Show me how good it feels when I fuck you. Better than it’s ever felt with anyone else…”
Harry had something to prove.
You could hardly think straight. The man was fucking out any logic or sense in your brain but you didn’t want to have rational thoughts that interrupted what was happening. You wanted Harry and his cock. You wanted to be fucked by him just like he was for all time. To hell with Colin and his sorry excuse for lovemaking. Harry was a real man with pleasure to give.
The breath was kicked from your lungs when the tight coil in your tummy began to unravel and the yummiest, most transcendent orgasm you’d ever experienced began to take over. The only thing you registered was Harry’s cock pounding into you and words of encouragement egging you on as the mattress squeaked violently under you. His words were unclear but you could hear the starved and whimpery moans falling from his mouth between words.
You trembled and quaked as you spasmed over him, the glide of his heavy cock through your guts squelched and ached as you gasped for air and finally began to discern what was happening when Harry frantically pulled his cock from your pussy and climbed over you, taking your face in his hand and dipped his pussy flavored dick into your lips where you felt him pumping warm, creamy come down your throat and onto your tongue. You grabbed onto his ass with both hands and pulled at him, beckoning him to stuff his whole fat cock into your esophagus.
The grunts and moans he let fall from his chest were the sexiest thing you’d ever heard from any man. Colin wasn’t vocal at all. When Colin came he’d pinch his face up like he was in pain or disgusted by the flavor of something and silently sigh with his mouth open.
But Harry… Harry wasn’t holding back. He was moaning as he thrust his cock into your mouth and slapped his hand on the headboard to steady himself, “Fuck…”
When you’d siphoned every drop from him, he gently pulled his meaty cock from your mouth and you coughed, gasping for air. Harry laid himself on the bed next to you and cupped your cheek, “You all right,” he panted.
You moaned and wiped the back of your hand over your mouth and rolled to face him, “Yeah I’m all right. Better than all right I’d say.”
Harry laughed, moving his hand from your face and fondled your breast in his palm, smushing at it and thumbing over your nipple, “You down to keep doing this with me?”
You sighed and ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be craving that from now on.”
He grinned, “Be craving what?”
“You. The way you do it. I…” you laughed, “I’ve never come three times in a row like that for any man.”
“So you want me to give you lots of cummies?” He snorted a laugh, “Need me to take care of you when Colin can’t.”
“When you say it like that… god it sounds so bad doesn’t it?”
“It is bad, Y/n. We are two very bad people who just did something very awful to someone. But I certainly don’t want to stop.”
“I mean… I don’t know if I can stop now. That was…”
“The best.”
You nodded. It was the best. And you knew you’d have regrets and the guilt would come at some point. But in that moment after being expertly fucked and properly taken care of you could think of nothing better than to do it again and again and again. As often as you could get away with it.
“How long do you think we can keep doing this? Like we’ll have to be lying all the time and sneaking around.”
“If we’re quiet and sneaky enough, as long as we want.”
You bit into your bottom lip and giggled, “That was a smart move. Not coming inside of me. Was gonna let you, ya know.”
Harry sat up with a smirk, “I know you were gonna. But I think fucking my best friend’s girl raw is quite enough mistakes for one night. As much as I wanted to fill you up we’ll have to save that one for a rainy day.”
You sat up with him, clothes all strewn about on the floor and at the foot of his bed, “A rainy day, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
Harry pinched your thigh before hopping off the bed out of your reach with a laugh, “And I think it’s only fair that you sleep in here with me tonight,” he slid his boxers up his legs, “Colin’s not gonna wake up until late so we’ll have plenty of time before he’s conscious.”
Harry tossed you his t-shirt and you pulled it over your head, “Why’s that only fair?”
Harry shrugged, “Cause I like to cuddle and Colin’s passed out so might as well let me have some since I probably won’t get to do it very often.”
You slid off his bed and pulled your arms over his shoulders, “That’s kind of sweet, Harry.”
“So you’ll stay in here with me tonight?”
“Without a doubt.”
You were both so fucked.
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kinktober - day thirteen
kink: camcorder with minho ft. chan
warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. threesome (kind of), chan is a perv, afab!reader, teensy bit of manipulation
chan didn’t think this would happen when he asked minho to borrow his camcorder a couple days ago - all he wanted was to record some practice videos to upload to youtube. he didn’t think before he took it, didn’t think before he looked through minho’s old footage of his dancing that he keeps for memories, didn’t think before watching what he watched.
it was a video of you. and minho.
in his defense, the storage on the memory card was almost full and chan was just looking for something that could be deleted to free up space - and wouldn’t minho check the storage to see if there was anything he didn’t want chan seeing first? if anything, this is minho’s fault.
sure, it’s minho’s fault that chan is one second away from jerking off to the sight of you getting fucked into oblivion by his best friend, the grainy pixels leaving little to nothing to his imagination. your moans sound tinny from the low quality speakers, minho’s grunts accenting the sounds coming from your mouth as he fucks you up against the studio mirrors. your breath is fogging up from where your face is pressed against the glass, sweaty handprints from the both of you staining the surface. minho better have cleaned those mirrors after that, chan’s delirious mind supplies as he continues watching the footage he should have turned off minutes ago.
the video is from the same angle as their dance practices, the same walls on display and oh fuck chan doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. that’s the room that he dances in, he’s leaned up against that exact mirror, panting and overexerted, he’s been yelled at by minho for messing up the choreography in that exact place.
he tries. he tries so hard to forget what he saw, to get the image of you shaking apart when you came out of his head. to stop thinking about the way your skin went white from where minho was gripping it. to restrain from gripping his cock in his hand under his blanket with his eyes screwed shut and the symphony of your combined noises playing in his head like a song he couldn’t get off of repeat.
but how could he when he had to go back into that rehearsal room just a few days later to practice? what excuse could he possibly give his members about why he wanted to switch rooms from this one? the room that’s full of their most precious memories, full of laughter and tears and piles of sweaty cuddles on the floor? no, he couldn’t. what he could do was avoid that spot like it was poisonous, standing on the farthest edge of the room after practice was over, chugging water and thinking about how you both have probably fucked on the floor there, or those couches, or by the closet door.
he doesn’t notice you at first, sliding into the room to hand minho a cold water bottle and press a kiss to his cheek. the other members were slowly trickling out, passing tired greetings to you as they shuffled past, eager to go home and shower. when only minho and him were left, you went to approach him only to find his eyes already on you, glazed over at you but not really seeing.
he looks at you and all he can see is the way you were pressed up against the glass, your tits squished but somehow still bouncing, the screwed up features of your face when you were overwhelmed in pleasure. all he can hear are those metallic sounding moans, all he can feel is the urge to fall at your feet-
“bang chan,” minho snaps, jerking chan out of his fantasy. “where is my camera? you’ve had it for a while, i wanted to record the new choreography.”
“oh!” chan is starting to panic, he didn’t think that minho would ask after the camcorder so soon. he didn’t have time to prepare, didn’t have the energy to create an excuse. “there was too much storage on it, so i didn’t get to record what i wanted and i forgot to ask you about it.”
he’s biting his tongue now, cursing himself for saying too much. couldn’t he just have said he would give it back tomorrow?
“i didn’t think about the storage,” minho starts, not sounding like he had anything to hide. did he truly not know about what he had left on that camera for chan to find? “did you see anything interesting?”
he knows. he knows. chan is beginning to sweat, he can feel it in his hair and under his arms and he wants to bury a hole by his feet so he can jump into it and never climb out.
“haha, no,” he says, packing up the rest of his bag so that he didn’t have to look at minho. or you, who’s been silent since you walked in, watching him carefully. for all he wasn’t scared of minho and his adorably empty threats, he was terrified of you. “i didn’t even look. just saw that the storage was full, you know?”
he sounds awkward. he is awkward, right now.
“chan,” you trail a finger down his arm, speaking for the first time since you arrived and he’s gone, your touch leaving raised hairs in your wake. you should be angry, you should be livid, why are you touching him like that- “come over tonight to mine would you? we wanted to have you over for a while, minho wanted to cook for you. and you can give him the camera back then.”
“oh,” chan is sure that his face is flushed completely red by now, but he nods anyways. “sure! i’m free tonight. i’ll be there at seven? or whenever is good for you, i’m free. wait, i said that already-”
“perfect,” minho purrs, taking one of your hands in his and laying the other on chan’s shoulder. “seven is perfect. see you then, chan.”
--
he gets to your place early and sits in his car for 30 minutes, chewing at his fingernails and tapping his leg at an alarming pace. the more he thinks about it the more he overthinks - did they just want to yell at you in private instead of at the company building? did they really not know? what if he confessed and they didn’t know? what if they never speak to you again?
he has to take several deep breaths before leaving his car, and again before he knocks on your door. he’s ushered in by you, bright smiles on yours and minho’s faces as you take the camera out of his hands, and by the time he has a glass of wine in his hand and he’s sitting on the couch while minho puts the finishing touches on dinner he’s almost fully relaxed. he’s been here so many times, your apartment being a refuge to all the boys when they wanted to get away from the dorms for a bit. this is normal.
“let me put something on for us to watch,” you say at the same time minho asks chan if he wanted more wine, and you sneak the camcorder towards the tv while chan was distracted, sniping at minho that no he doesn’t want a second glass he’s not even halfway through the first one. you plug it in, smiling when it connected to the right input immediately. you scroll through the files, fingers calm on the remote even though you were shaking in anticipation inside. when you get to the right file you click on it, turning up the volume.
the image of you and minho takes over the tv, sounds coming out of the tv in a much better quality than what chan had been used to. his head whips towards the tv, wine forgotten and eyes wide as he takes in the video that you put on.
“what?” he asks, almost in a gasp as his eyes flicker back and forth between the tv, you, and minho, who had finally exited the kitchen and joined you in the living room.
“we thought since you loved it so much, we would watch it together,” minho explains, much more casually than one should be when playing a video of them fucking their girlfriend in front of their best friend. “why, is something wrong?”
“i-”, chan cuts himself off, panic choking his voice. “i’m so sorry-”
“hey,” you move towards him, sitting against his side and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “that isn’t what this is about. we don’t mind, okay?”
“we couldn’t let him sputter on for a bit more?” minho pouts, crossing his arms at you. “it was funny.”
“min, be nice,” you scold, smiling at chan.
“channie, i would have beat you up when i found out if i wanted to,” minho relents, siting on chan’s other side, sandwiching him between you both. “she likes that you watched it. i like it. okay? just relax and be good for us.”
minho’s words wash over chan, leaving him in a sort of daze. be good for us, minho had said. he could do that, chan was so good at being good. he melts against the couch, the heat from both of your bodies enveloping him as he takes in the video he’s seen over and over already.
“you planned this?” he asks, breathless and mesmerized.
“of course i did,” minho scoffs, squeezing one of chan’s thighs in his warm hand. “you think i would just let you watch that without planning it? i’m not that stupid.”
you’re not, but maybe i am, chan thinks, and he only realizes that he said it out loud when you start giggling and lean your head into his shoulder to hide your laughter.
he wants to retort, to somehow defend himself, but then video-minho changes his angle and starts fucking video-you even harder than before and whatever words were in his throat stayed behind the lump there.
“do you want to do that to her?” minho asks, hand trailing up chan’s thigh, leaving behind phantom pinpricks of sensation. he lets his blunt nails rake over chan’s leg, the delicate material of his workout pants providing no protection.
“can i?” chan breathes out, looking at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.
“please,” you wiggle your legs open a bit, a clear invitation. his hand comes to rest on your thigh and it’s so big, so much bigger than minho’s. he slides it up, to the hem of your oversized shorts, dipping his fingers closer to your panties and -
he stops.
“but, i also want…” he ducks his head down, trying to hide his flush before glancing at minho through his lashes. minho’s brow furrows, confusion clear on his face before he puts it together.
“oh, my channie,” he coos, running a hand through chan’s hair. “we can do that too, i promise. but my girl has been waiting so long for you, you don’t want to make her wait even longer, do you?”
chan shakes his head, entire body swaying with the force of it, reenergized by minho’s promise of more. he turns towards you and you feel your breath leave your body as you turn weighless for a moment, landing back on earth to find yourself straddling chan’s lap.
“you’re strong,” you praise, feeling up his biceps as you get comfy in his lap, ignoring minho’s indignant yelp next to you. chan beams up at you, both of his hands cupping your ass and using it as leverage to pull you closer into him. his dick is hard in his pants, poking against your crotch, and you both let out lewd moans when you grind into him a bit. he glances at minho, a little insecure and still kind of uncomfortable, but minho just pulls him in and kisses him deeply. it’s a sight to see, like a movie playing out right in front of your eyes, the love of your life and his best friend making out right in front of you. chan tenses a bit but melts into the couch even faster, letting minho lead him into blissful submission as he cups his face and moves it right how he wants it.
when they part, chan’s lips are cherry red and so wet, glistening in the light from the lamps decorating the room. you can’t help but kiss him too, licking minho’s essence off of him and reveling in the way he bucks up into you like he can’t help it.
chan slides his lips to the right, peppering kisses to the corner of your lips, across your jaw and down your neck. he sucks at the spot right under your ear that makes you see stars, heat bursting in your lower belly. he was utterly intoxicated by your scent, your clean, floral body wash taking over his senses until he was all but panting into your neck.
it almost hurts to pull back from him, it’s like a stab right to your heart when he makes a wounded noise at the loss of contact, but you need more from him. any thoughts that you might have had of seducing him, of wining and dining him and showing him how much you really wanted him, died out once you felt his hands on you. you’ve been crushing on this man for almost as long as you’ve been crushing on minho, and you weren’t going to give this opportunity any time to ruin itself; you knew chan, knew how his self-consciousness and second-guessing worked, and if you wanted him you needed to take him now before he changed his mind.
you reach for the drawstring on his pants, pulling it open and sticking your hand in, rubbing him through his boxers. next time you’d have more decorum, you’d suck him off until he was right on the edge and make him sob when you refuse to let him come, you’d let him fuck you into the mattress and let him pin you down, but not right now.
“on the couch?” chan asks, eyes wide as they flicker back and forth between you and minho.
“you know we’ve done it in worse places,” minho says, humor lining his words as the lust takes over his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. a burst of affection takes over you as you look at him, your perfect soulmate who understood you and your desires and shared them with you like you shared everything else.
“never knew you were such an exhibitionist,” chan snipes back at him, gasping when you tug him out of his pants and boxers, the stretch of his waistband making it easy. you only have to stroke him a few times until he’s fully hard, his cock red and leaking where it curves into his lower belly.
“minho, help me,” you ask, blinking at minho through your eyelashes, and he knows what you want immediately; he hooks his fingers through your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down to your knees, just far down enough for you to be able to rub your bare pussy against chan’s cock.
“god, you’re so wet,” he curses, throwing his head back and sighing in time with the movement of your hips.
“for you, channie,” your voice cracks when his cock catches on your clit, and both of them are smart enough not to say anything about it. minho moves though, ever impatient, and lines chan’s cock up against your hole with practiced ease.
“thought about this a lot, did you?” you tease, knowing very well that both of you thought about this a little too much, sharing fantasies in hushes whispers when you were supposed to be asleep. .
minho clicks his tongue and presses himself up behind you, still fully clothed even though his dick was rock hard in his jeans. he places his hands on your hips and pushes you into chan, driving his cock deep into you. you collapse against chan’s chest, a surprised yelp leaving you at the unexpected fullness. chan echoes you, burying his face into your neck with a shudder.
“tease me again and see what i’ll do,” he says darkly, hands still in a death grip on your waist. you take his threat for what it is, knowing that he would follow through with his words, and you start grinding into chan in slow circles. his hands circle your waist, fingers tangled with minho as they let you set the pace.
“please,” chan whimpers, his breath tickling your neck. you want to tease him so badly, but how could you when he asked so politely? you shift your knees further onto the couch, gaining leverage so you could lift your hips higher up. you drop back down onto him and you both moan in unison.
you lift back up and drop down, again and again and again, finding a rhythm that fits both of you perfectly. it’s like a dance, moves that feel practiced and eased, spurred on by minho’s soft whispered praises towards the both of you. the video playing on the tv had reached its end, and every sound coming from you was heightened.
“what a pretty show, all for me,” minho moves away and finally takes his cock out of his jeans, fisting it and immediately starting to stroke himself off at a fast pace. you can’t see him, you miss the warmth of him against your back, but chan can’t take his eyes off of him, transfixed by the sight of his best friend jerking himself off to him and you as you’re bouncing on top of him.
you’re shaking apart on top of chan before you realize it, orgasm taking over you as you continue to ride him. you clench around him hard, and he’s spilling into you a second later, jerky little thrusts shaking your body on top of his. minho curses as he comes a moment later, too keyed up to extend his pleasure for long. this wasn’t about him anyways; at least, not this time.
you lift off of chan with a hiss, sending him a look of sympathy when he shivers in overstimulation. you don’t make it far, pulling him down to lay against you, your back pressed up against his front. both of your pants are still halfway off, but you can’t be bothered to care right now - you’re utterly exhausted, even from just one orgasm.
the both of you barely register minho draping a blanket over you before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning his head on the couch right by where chan’s hands were around your stomach. it’s so domestic, the three of you drifting towards one another so naturally that it just feels right. later, you’d get up and eat the now-cold dinner minho had painstakingly prepared, but for now you were content to lay in comfortable quiet.
“wait,” chan breaks the silence, and you have to resist the urge to groan at him. “how did you know that i watched it? what if the storage really was just full?”
“please, you’re too obvious,” minho teases, voice soft and drowsy, and you can hear the smile in it. “plus, you were watching it in the dorms, idiot. you’re lucky it wasn’t jeongin that caught you.”
--
kinktober masterlist
#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#lee know smut#lee minho smut#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#minchan#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader
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You fling yourself around the corner, catching the door frame with your hand to stay upright. Shinso doesn't jump; he heard you stomping from all the way down the hall.
"I'm late."
He doesn't look up from his duffle bag. He's arranging the clothes carefully, placing each rolled sock in a row. "How late?"
"No, like-" You roll your hands in the air expectantly. "Period late."
Shinso glances at your feet and watches how you bounce on your toes with excitement. With a sigh. he looks up at you, expression set.
"How late are you?"
You stop bouncing. "It was supposed to come last night."
Shinso groans as he stands, pushing off of his knee for support.
"But, it's different this time!" you insist before he can say anything. "I feel different."
He sucks on one side of his cheek, pulling a dimple into his skin. He's still boyish in his features, even after all these years. Carefully, he measures his words, saying your name ever so gently.
"I just don't want you to get your hopes up again just for it to be negative." He taps his house slipper against his bag. "Because you'll end up testing again the next day, then the next day, just make sure it's really negative-"
"Hitoshi-"
"I just don't want you to break your heart again."
This song and dance must be getting old for him. Every month, you get excited, only to see that little line once again. Hitoshi's right: it always breaks your heart.
You think, maybe, he mourns it too. Silently. Privately. It's hard to tell. He's not like you. He's not expressive or outspoken, but je's always there to hold your hand and try again.
"Let's just wait a couple days." Hitoshi, as if he knows what you're thinking, reaching up and takes your hand. "If you're still late, I'll buy you as many tests as you want."
You swallow down your disappointment.
"How many days?"
"When I come back from this mission." He counts on his fingers. "Three days?"
"Three days? I'm supposed to not know if I'm pregnant for three days?"
Hitoshi shrugs and kneels back down, tending to his things. "Some people don't know they're pregnant the whole pregnancy."
"That's different and you know it."
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what dating seventeen feels like
pairing : seventeen x gn!reader
headcanons , fluff , misc
warnings : none
word count : 1.1 k
requested ? no
a/n: just a small collection of the things i love in life that i associate with seventeen
choi seungcheol
falling asleep on the couch and waking up in bed. chocolate-covered strawberries. the kind of love found in romcoms. expensive dinner dates and champagne.
cologne that lingers on your clothes and bed sheets. tight, bone-crushing, hugs. his hand almost always under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin (it grounds him). him letting you win when you play wrestle. cute aggression victim.
having a rock to hold on to amidst a raging current.
yoon jeonghan
diving under a crashing wave to find calm, gentle, water. rollercoasters with big drops. feathers. lavender fields. leaving the theater and realizing night has fallen.
always saying the same thing at the same time (it scares seokmin). naps on the couch. sending each other pictures of weird-looking animals with the caption "you" or "us." partners in crime. braiding his hair.
having not only a boyfriend but a best friend in jeonghan.
joshua hong
warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. pancakes and orange juice in the morning. raw honey. the scent of freshly baked bread. scented candles and wax melts.
lives up to the gentleman title. opens doors, bides by the sidewalk rule, lends you his jacket, etc. acts! of! service!! fighting over who pays the bill (he's actually ambushed your waiter to pay before you can even see the check). domestic, mundane, slice-of-life type of love.
a honeymoon phase that never ends.
wen junhui
walking down empty streets without a care in the world. morning cartoons. clingy cats. ice cream for dinner. frozen pizza with red wine. airport liminal space hours.
taking pictures of sunsets to send to each other. doodling on his hand. staying up until 3am accidentally. back hugs galore. resting his chin atop your head. him getting as close as possible when showing him something on your phone (i'm talking cheek smooshed up against yours). sleepy jun asking for kisses every morning.
living life in the moment because you know the future can wait for you two.
kwon soonyoung
energetic snow days. sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen. energy drinks and all-nighters. watermelon sugar. summer bonfires. the ambiance of muffled music through club bathrooms.
zoo dates. always wins you the biggest prizes at carnivals. his favorite place to nap is your lap. sweaty post-dance practice hugs. he gets pouty if you start a tv show without him. baking brownies at 3am. talks about you non-stop to anyone who will (or won't) listen.
excitement that isn't momentary or overwhelming. excitement that makes life meaningful.
jeon wonwoo
tulips blooming in the spring. waxing gibbous moons. amethyst. resting after a long, busy day. the scent of old, yellowed books. rhythmic clicking of a keyboard. warm, smooth, riverbank stones.
re-adjusting his glasses for him after every kiss. let's you design his character's outfits in video games. tells you about the book he's reading like it's gossip. he's always taking candid photos of you. quiet mornings. elderly couples who see you two are reminded of how they fell in love.
defining love not by how much it's said, but by how it's felt.
lee jihoon
thunderstorms that lull you to sleep. shiny, red guitars coming to life with smooth melodies. the crackle of a fire. rosemary. empty highways at night. lightning that strikes twice.
morning coffee dates at home. napping on his studio sofa while he works. quality! time! absolutely spoils you every chance he gets. pretends to act all cool when you catch him staring. writing songs for you. his hand routinely finds your knee when he's anxious. he prefers intimate and private acts of affection to the alternative.
cherishing all the little things that make your relationship important.
lee seokmin
wishing on dandelions. blue skies. morning dew on grass. golden hour. that burning sensation you get in your lungs when laughing too hard. iced lattes.
always asking permission to kiss you. so, so attentive. falling asleep on facetime. pillow forts. lots, and lots, and lots of nose kisses. him never wanting to leave you in the morning. "five more minutes" type of guy. his favorite feeling in the world is making you laugh.
finally knowing what it means to love someone so much you'd give the world for them.
kim mingyu
sleeping by a window with the sun warming your skin. hearing your favorite song on the radio. silky white sheets. first date jitters. first love. receiving a bouquet of roses.
admires you so, so, much. talks about you 24/7, much to his members' annoyance. (jk, they love you, they just like to tease him about it). literally a sponge the way he starts picking up your habits and slang. he's physically incapable of rejecting your puppy-dog eyes. likes to lay sprawled out on top of you. he'll often seek you out if he needs a little extra support.
the feeling that comes with knowing you've found "the one."
xu minghao
the autumn leaves changing. winter constellations. a solar eclipse. the quiet of a house before everyone wakes. those cozy granny-square blankets. white wine. laughing at scary movies.
wine and painting nights. him always making two cups of tea. art museum dates. swaying together to music in the kitchen. him secretly being a sucker for your doting. has your mannerisms memorized and prides himself on it. somehow always knows what to say when you're feeling down.
growing, learning, and experiencing life alongside each other.
boo seungkwan
warm, summer air. mystery flavored lollipops that somehow taste like every flavor all at once. rosy red cheeks.
teasing each other and inside jokes. nicknames like loser, stupid-head, idiot etc. (affectionate). hours long gossip sessions. kisses that taste of coffee and tangerine chapstick. stars in his eyes whenever you're doing literally anything. having his undivided attention.
resident happy pill and mood-maker seungkwan knowing he can let his mask fall around you without judgement.
hansol vernon chwe
watching city lights blur past in the passenger seat of a car at night. cereal at 1am. falling asleep while watching tv. poorly handmade, yet meaningful gifts. assorted candies. buying road trip snacks.
communicating with a single look. ice cream dates in the middle of winter. speaking purely in movie and tiktok references. late-night conversations that take a weird turn. (you've once debated if aliens would like pineapple on pizza). pretending not to notice how shy he gets when initiating physical affection.
loving the strange, bad, and hidden parts of each other as much as the good.
lee chan
the comforting buzz and motion of a subway at night. toothy smiles. watching reruns of your favorite childhood show. surprise parties. the first snow of the new year. concert lights.
driving at 2am, singing at the top of your lungs. random dance parties in the living room. getting noise complaints and giggling about it. pillow fights and board games, competitive, yet both trying to let the other win cause it'll make them happy. asking him to open jars. him getting exceptionally giddy to open said jars. (you're completely capable, but know he likes to feel needed).
making each other's inner child feel safe.
#seventeen#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you#choi seungcheol x reader#yoon jeonghan x reader#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua hong x reader#joshua x reader#wen junhui x reader#jun x reader#hoshi x reader#kwon soonyoung x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x reader#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#lee seokmin x reader#dokyeom x reader#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu x reader#xu minghao x reader#minghao x reader#boo seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#hansol chwe x reader#dino x reader
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Lights! Camera! Headcanons! Reca.
SFW collection of silly HCs!
- Little Miss Frog is only ever oiled by Reca. He doesn't trust anyone else to be as thorough with her joints as he is.
- Reca has multiple hats for his favorite assistant director, it's just the one we see her wearing all the time is her favorite
- If for some reason you ever needed to switch shoes with Reca, he would gladly do so. After all, what kind of love interest would he be if he couldn't even do that much? The only problem is that he looks better in your heels than you ever have.
- He has a pair of shades with a print of old TV static on the lenses. They are not practical at all but he still uses them.
- This man does not know the meaning of the word subtlety
- You're getting atrocious petnames 24/7, to the point you even begin to think he's forgotten your actual name. It's always love muffin this, honey bear that- and if you ever jokingly refer to yourself as one of them it might as well become a part of Reca’s daily vocabulary.
- He has had multiple people in the past pointing a remote at him to see if they could pause the YouTube play button in his eyes. Now, whenever he sees someone holding one close to him, Reca just snatches it because he's that fed up.
- The button can change, but he's never telling you how it works.
- “The mystery only compels you further to my character, sweetie pie.”
- Please do not trust this man with cooking. He's more of an order in kind of guy and trust that that's preferable over letting him near a stove, oven, or even a microwave on some days. However, he will set the table and clean the dishes for you- it just might take a while because he's busy editing a script.
- Has picked up tons of little facts over the years from all the research he's put behind films. You could ask the most random questions and he'll undoubtedly have an answer- even if it concerns you how he knows how to dispose of a full body.
- On that note, Reca knows a good handful of the meanings behind names, so when someone introduces themselves to him, he usually ends up deciding if that “meaning” fits their character.
- Usually, it doesn't.
- Aka: Crew members
- It's easier that way.
- Those who are a regular part of his filming crew all carry earplugs with them now as a habit after having to listen to Reca's …excited shouting.
- He disapproves of relationships amongst the cast. There's always going to be issues working with people, but he doesn't need the entire film getting pushed aside because one couple had a fight! It’s utterly nonsensical to bring that onto his set. Save that for after everything has wrapped up.
- Anyone listen to Distractible and Markiplier’s entire stunt with lenses? Reca's worse. That's your only warning.
- After your first kiss, when Reca was walking back home, all self accomplished, he jumped up and cracked his feet together- completely unironically. He's not even ashamed about it, either.
- If Reca didn't start on Broadway as part of the crew, then he at least had some experience with it. (He was the theater kid in school). He knows a good couple of songs off the top of his head at this point, and when this one particular song comes on, he always has to stop himself from dancing.
- Owns a gramophone, but it only works half the time. Reca claims it's part of its charm….
- You've watched him mix redbull and coffee together only to drink it all down in a single sitting, then walk away without an explanation. That entire night he was yapping in your ear excitedly only to fall asleep on top of you as soon as it hit 4am.
- Reca tends to repeat the stories he's told you. He just loves them so much that he gets a little ahead of himself and forgets which ones he's shared, that's all. Plus, with his flair for the dramatic and tendency to add in a new line or two, it keeps things fresh.
- Reca affectionately pinches your nose using that baby voice of his. It’s supposed to be an affectionate gesture, in his own way, but it just comes across as annoying.
- Reca will pick you up and spin you around (just like the movies) but at the same time this man will happily let himself flop into your lap with a hand to his forehead so he can lament to you about his woes. Usually, this just means he wants attention.
- He gets busy with filming a lot, to the point you both can go up to a month without really getting anything more in than a one minute call. Usually, Reca is running around during these, or he's so close to passing out after a long day that you're left with the sound of him snoring on the other end of the line.
- Because he's famous, there are actually a good couple of edits and images of Reca made into memes you see when scrolling online.
- His handwriting is comically large. To the point it takes up so much space, Reca might as well be writing a signature instead of scrawling down notes to ensure he doesn't forget a fantastic idea.
- He writes his 7's with that little line crossing it.
- Reca is the type to grab your shoulder while he's laughing. And he does this whether you know him well or not.
#reca#mr reca#hoyoverse#x reader#banner by cafekitsune#fem reader#gn reader#mr reca x reader#reca x reader#reca x you#reca x y/n#honkai sr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#headcanons
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it's okay, i'm okay : ̗̀➛이희승
i don't want him anyway, girl, take him..
✧heeseung x f!reader
genre/warnings: 3.8k, i don’t want to give too much away :0 but angst, relationship, cheating, shouting, sex, fighting, mentions of wishing death. this in no way shape or form represents heeseung, it's purely fictional! italics are flashback scenes!!!
a/n: i’m obsessed with this song omg + i listened to white ferrari (it’s my cry song 😕) at one point while writing this so theres a few references AND i was listening to the new tyler album so if it’s not sad enough it’s because i was so excited 😭😭 ooo and the favourite song choice is from those playlists that enha made at the start of the romance untold era 🔥🔥 for @sofsofenso my no.1 fan, mwah 😽 i hope you like it !!
masterlist
"I. Love. You. So. Fucking. Much." he kissed you between each word.
Your chest was heavy as you held his weight on your stomach but you managed to laugh at his actions.
"We'll be together forever right?" you held your pinky out.
"Forever and ever!" he crossed his own with yours.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead but you truly wished he was.
Your naive 11-year-old heart truly believed that you'd be with him forever. He was your first everything.
You were that cheesy couple in the group that everyone believed would get married and have kids and stay together till you were old and grey.
Too bad, considering your luck was always terrible and you had attracted the devil's spawn.
The fleeting moments of you sneaking him into your room, the lingering touches you shared and the overall thought of his existence skated around the interior of your brain.
You desperately wanted to get rid of them but they brought a sense of comfort that only he could fill.
flashback!-
"I think you might be my soulmate.." he trailed off.
"Hee!" you scolded him. "Wait until after we meet your parents."
You smoothed down your black skirt, checking your outfit in the mirror one last time.
He helped you into his red leather jacket before pulling you into his embrace.
"Heeseung!"
"Okay, okay baby." he pulled away. "Let me get a picture before we go,"
The flash of his polaroid camera captured your smitten expression as he kissed your cheek.
His parents loved you, they claimed that their son had a glow around him whenever he was with you.
"Oh my, sorry. I can't focus when I look into your eyes, pretty." Heeseung whispered.
You lightly hit his chest. "I was telling you to look at this."
"Wait, new lockscreen and it's still me!" he got up and did a little dance.
"Yeah, but that not what I- "
He picked you up and twirled you around before attacking you with tickles.
"Stop, stop!"
"Tell me how much you love me and I'll stop." he cackled.
"I love you, so much, Hee." you collapsed onto his bed in a fit of giggles.
He flopped down next to you and pulled you into his chest.
"You really are my soulmate."
What a bunch of crap.
"Yn.. don't look but she's.. over there." Winter glared in the direction of the girl who was partly responsible for the end of your relationship.
flashback!-
Keeho rested an arm around your shoulder as he showed you around the party.
"You're so drunk already." You laughed at him. “Again.”
It was common for Keeho to get heavily drunk at pre’s and every time he said he would stop but just didn’t follow through.
"AM not." he pouted.
The two of you walked over to your friends.
"Where's your man?" Sungchan laughed behind his cup.
"We're not always together." you grumbled.
His comment did make you curious though as you had both made your way to the party separately.
Your grandfather was sick and you wanted to visit him in the hospital before making your way to Keeho's 19th, so you had told Heeseung he could meet you whenever he got there.
Chenle told you that he'd seen him in the kitchen earlier so they all followed you there.
"Heeseung! What the fuck!" you shouted.
Yunjin was pressed up against your boyfriend who had a hand in her hair. They were about an inch away from kissing but judging by the gloss on his lips, you could tell that they already had.
He gently pushed her away with a laugh.
"Baby, hey." he waved to your friends too.
"What is your problem?!"
You pushed him away as he got closer to you.
He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
"Guys.." Winter called after you.
His feet stopped once you were inside a bathroom.
"I've never seen you that mad before, pretty." he laughed.
"Let me out."
"No way... you're actually jealous."
Your jaw dropped.
"I'm not jealous, I'm breaking up with you."
"No, you're not." His face dropped. “Your emotions are high right now because your grandfather is sick. Don’t let that cloud your judgement.”
All you could do was look away because you believed his words.
"Come on, let's talk about this." he attempted to kiss you.
"Get off! You've clearly kissed someone else tonight and you expect me to want to stay with you despite you cheating."
This wasn't even the first time you'd caught him “cheating” on you.
He laughed in your face.
"This isn't Yunjin's lip combo." he joked.
"Well, it's someone's isn't it?" you frowned.
"So, you're gonna throw away 9 years because you don't trust me?" he calmed down.
Spolier! He'd convinced you to stay with him once again!
You remember the disappointed looks from all of your friends when you walked out with his arm around you.
They weren’t the only people who began to warn you about Heeseung.
Every new person you’d interacted with told you that he was bad news but you reassured them that he was just getting used to university.
He seemed to switch as soon as you’d gotten to uni, badmouthing you to his friends, staying out late, missing dates, ignoring you and each time you’d take him back.
You even took him back when you walked into the lunch area and caught him kissing your seat-mate from Politics.
Your best friends didn’t speak to you for a week after that one.
But you’d become desensitised to the feeling you got when you’d catch him. Taking him back immediately saved you from having to argue with him and you were tired.
Tired from the stress of your degree and having to deal with Heeseung.
Everywhere you went, you received looks of pity. No one envied you for being in a relationship with Heeseung, they all felt sorry for you.
You continued to defend him and every time he’d act out and chip off a piece of your heart, leaving you embarrassed and scared.
“Hee is my soulmate.” you reiterated.
Heeseung was all you ever wanted.
He was all you’d ever known.
Hee was your first everything.
Letting him go, would be losing a part of yourself and you weren’t quite sure if you were capable of doing that yet.
But four months later at the same house you'd been pushed to your limit.
flashback!-
“Great to see that you aren’t as drunk as last time.” Chenle poked at Keeho.
“I’m on lookout, Jiung smashed my dining room table last time.” He rolled his eyes.
“Yn!” someone turned you around.
“Hey, Yunjin.” you all sighed.
“Where’s Heeseung?” she pouted.
You really didn’t know and you were tired of people asking you that.
“I don’t know, go find him if you want.” you shrugged.
You had every reason to be mad at him.
It was your 10-year anniversary and you hadn’t done anything to celebrate together.
The party was his idea of “having a fun anniversary”.
“Yunjin, don’t come over to kill the vibe.” Sungchan groaned.
“Fine.” she grumbled.
On her way past you, she pretended to trip in order to dump her drink down your front.
“Shit.” you ran off to a bathroom in order to get the ice out of your bra, not even stopping to hear Winter scold Yunjin.
Most of them were locked so you opted for the one in Keeho’s bedroom.
On the verge of tears, you attempted to calm yourself down and get a shirt from his walk in wardrobe.
You threw on a jersey that matched with your jeans and were on your way out when someone came into the main area of the room.
“Finally, I’ve been looking for you for ages.” a girl giggled.
‘What is Yunjin doing here?’
“Well, I’m a busy man.”
‘Heeseung?! What kind of a sick joke was this?’
“Ugh don’t remind me. I asked Yn where you were and she literally said she didn’t care.”
‘I didn’t say that??’
“What?” Heeseung sounded confused.
“Enough about her, I’m right here. And we have all the time in the world.”
You could hear her kiss him.
The same lips that had spent countless hours pressed against your own.
The same lips that spoke promises of fulfilment and expressed their gratitude towards you.
The same lips that whispered words of encouragement when it was just the two of you, late at night while you gave yourself to him.
You felt disgusted.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you truly wished he was. You wanted him to suffer an unspeakable fate for hurting you but every time you thought of him, you couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without him.
The remaining fragments of your heart fell into the palm of your hand. There was nothing to fight for anymore.
You should’ve moved long before the moans reached your ear but you were frozen in shock.
‘Is this what people warned me of.’ you panicked. ‘I should’ve never let it get this far.”
Your feet didn’t wait and moved involuntarily as you gave away your hiding spot.
You needed to see it for yourself.
The tears that you’d been holding in for months fell down your cheeks.
“I can’t do this- not today.”
Pushing past them you ran downstairs and out the doors, attracting the attention of your friends.
“Yn? What, wait!” Heeseung shouted, running after you as he slipped his clothes back on.
He grabbed your arm pulling you back into his embrace.
You shoved him away violently this time.
“Baby, I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep saying you’re sorry and then acting out and embarrassing me every. single. time. I’m fed up Heeseung, I am done with you for good. The pain I feel just from loving you is a burden that I shouldn’t have to face anymore. I love you so much, Hee- Heeseung.” You cried as you pushed him away again. “I care so much, but it’s clear that my best just wasn’t enough for you. I’m sure that- that in another life we’d be happy.. but in this one I just don’t think that’s possible.”
“Yn, no. I’ll fix this.. I’ll fix us and I- I’ll change my ways. Just- please.” he trembled. “I wanted- I want to spend my life with you.. I can’t lose you. You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve ever known.”
“Well that’s not true,” you sobbed. “I don’t trust you anymore.”
“Baby, why.” he grabbed your hands. “Why don’t you trust me anymore? What do I have to do to get you to trust me again.. I’ll do anything for you. I love you..”
You could see your friends in your peripheral vision watching in concern. Waiting to intervene.
“Can I ask you something?” you stared him in the eye. “I need you to answer honestly.”
“Anything!” he pleaded, tears running down his face. “Ask me anything.”
“Why did you do it time after time?” you watched him deny his acts.
“Sieun told me. You were with Yunjin, Aya, Kate. You even tried it on my Winter and she’s my best friend, Mia, Yeji, Aeri.. I can’t.” The tears fell again.
“None of them compare to you.. Baby, please don’t leave.” he tried getting closer to you. “When I look at you all I see is my soulmate. I care for you still and I will, forever.”
“Well, I look at you… and I see nothing.”
For once, he didn’t even try to fight back.
The rest of the night was a blur.
Sungchan punched him and Winter took you home as you cried for days to come.
You waited by the phone for a text or even a call with an apology but days passed then weeks which turned into months.
There was an odd sense of comfort in knowing that he knew he was in the wrong but all you wanted to do was have him hold you and tell you that everything would be alright.
Yunjin waited for her coffee to be made as she looked down at her phone.
"I.. You know what.. I don't care." you leaned back in your chair.
You didn’t know if she was still dating him, and you didn’t want to.
Chenle gasped.
"Are you being real right now?" He pressed. "This is new territory."
You nodded.
Winter suddenly began to look uncomfortable.
"Coming.. over.. here." she muttered out.
"Yn!" Yunjin screeched. “You’re going to Keeho’s party tonight right?”
“Yeah.. Surprised that you are too, you know.”
She pointed at herself confused.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Keeho.” you pointed.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m someone’s plus one.” she looked away bashfully.
“That’s not a problem.” you shrugged it off. “We’re all there to get wasted anyway.”
She mistook your lack of anger as friendship.
“Well, hope I see you later.” she waved, taking off as her order was called up.
“I don’t.” Chenle groaned.
You looked at the time on your phone.
“Cute lockscreen.” Winter giggled.
It was a picture of you, her, Chenle, Sungchan and Keeho on holiday together.
That was the summer after you and Heeseung broke up.
flashback!-
“It is so hot here.” Winter fanned herself.
“That’s because you’re stood out on the balcony.” Sungchan laughed.
Everyone else lounged around your hotel room.
You were still a mess.
They were trying to distract you from anything and everything and while you appreciated the thought, you just wanted Heeseung back.
Your phone was connected to Keeho’s speaker, blasting some songs that you weren’t paying attention to.
A familiar intro snapped you out of your trance and you immediately reached for your phone.
“No- No, Yn give me that.” Chenle snatched the phone out of your hands.
You’d pressed onto Heeseung’s contact and were in the process of typing out ‘I miss you…’
You remembered what Heeseung told you the first time. “Sincerity is scary by the 1975. Whenever I hear the song, I think of you.” he shrugged. “I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.”
All it took was one song, his favourite song, and you fell back into the rhythm that they were trying to get you out of.
“Come on.” Keeho smiled as he helped you up. “Let’s go out, it’s not every day that you get to be in Hawaii!
Now two years had passed.
You were in the final year of your Bachelor’s degree, with employment lined up for you to work under a United Nations representative as you studied for your Masters.
Winter was going off to Paris to work as a designer for a luxury brand, Chenle was already earning 6 figures as an accountant while studying, Keeho and Sungchan were both planning a gap year before going into business and engineering respectively.
Your best friends, all going their separate ways. You couldn’t bear the thought.
You loved them like no other and having to deal with life’s problems alone didn’t seem too great.
Together you’d created a calendar to show whenever someone was free and had planned several group holidays to come.
Spending winter in Paris with Winter, spring break in the Philippines with Keeho and Sungchan and several mini trips in summer with Chenle.
“Cheers!” Keeho shouted.
“What are we cheering to?” you laughed.
“Us… duh!”
You’d all settled on the conservatory sofa, away from the noise and people at the party.
“We have 5 months left, don’t get sappy.” Sungchan smiled.
“Well if you think about it, it’ll be over in no time.” Winter looked deep in thought. “We’ve been friends for 19 years now and those flew by.”
19 years..
It didn’t take long for you all to realise that you really didn’t have a lot of time left in your bubble.
Having to face the real world without your found family was difficult.
“I don’t want to leave you guys.” Chenle cried into your side as you all hugged each other.
“Please don’t be a stranger guys,” Keeho sobbed. “Weekly group facetime calls, weekend trips..”
“I want postcards.” you wailed. “From your world trip.”
“You’ll all get them.” Sungchan bawled.
“Remember in nursery when- when Chenle started that paint fight and we all got scolded by the teacher.” Winter laughed with a sniffle.
Laughter broke out across the group.
You had the picture on your childhood bedroom wall. The four-year-old versions of yourselves covered head to toe and looking guilty.
Time really does fly by.
“I love you guys.”
The moment was cut short when Jiung stumbled into the room.
“Hey!”
“Not me!”
Chenle dove out of the way and you ended up covered in Jiung’s drink.
“Why does everyone put ice in their drinks!” you wined. “I’m going to steal a shirt, Keeho.”
You left the group as they arranged a ride home for Jiung and looked for a change of clothes in Keeho’s wardrobe.
Slipping a shirt on, you left his room but realised you’d wanted to use the bathroom.
There was another down the hall anyway.
You were in the process of washing your hands when you noticed the song seeping through the gap under the door.
“Sincerity is scary by the 1975.”
But you didn’t have an urge to text him.
The door flung open.
‘Why!’ you groaned.
“Ba- Yn..” he tilted his head. “You look better.”
“Please leave, Heeseung.”
You hated how he looked even better.
“Why are you looking at me like that..” you whined.
You hated how your whole being shut down as soon as you were close to him. The past two years went out of the window.
“Like what?” he whispered.
“You know we can’t..” you trailed off.
He took several steps closer to you and you hesitated to breathe.
“We’re not doing anything.” his eyes were very much focused on your lips.
Winter’s voice rang out in your head.
“Don’t tell the guys.. but if you ever end up in the same place as him, I think you should get closure. It’ll help you move on.”
You let him kiss you.
When he pulled away you brought him back, kissing his lips with a hunger you’d never had before.
He pulled you up by the waist and placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers immediately making their way under your skirt.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“One last time.” you confirmed before kissing him again with even more passion.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he pulled down your underwear and began to lap at your cunt.
Your hands grasped at his now red hair, as your head fell back against the mirror with a gasp.
He knew you like the back of his hand and you were ashamed to reach your climax so fast as he worked your insides with precision and memory.
“Fuck.. Hee- Heeseung, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned out.
“Cum for me, pretty. You did so well,” he praised as he rubbed your clit.
The nickname and intensity of your orgasm did a number on you.
You felt lightheaded as he kissed you breathlessly before reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom.
‘Thank God, he got the message. One last time.’ you thought. It felt too intimate to let him fuck you raw.
Your fingers made light work of discarding his belt and jeans so you could pull his boxers down teasingly slowly.
“Baby, please..” he whined.
You slid off the counter and onto your knees, immediately taking him into your mouth.
Your muscles moved like clockwork, memory working overtime as you pushed his buttons the way he always loved.
“Not yet..” he whimpered.
He pulled your head off his dick and helped you stand up then bent you over the counter.
You watched in the mirror as he rolled the condom on and then rubbed his length on the slick of your release.
“Heeseung,” you whined as he nudged your clit with his tip.
“All in one?” he asked you.
You nodded.
He sheathed himself into you in one go.
Feeling as though you could cum then and there, you slumped onto the surface in front of you.
Heeseung grabbed your hair and forced you to watch him in the mirror.
Once you made eye contact, you became fully aware of the situation you were in.
You cried out as he slapped your ass before slamming into you from behind.
The moans leaving your lips and whines leaving his would be heard by everyone if the music wasn’t so loud.
He knew exactly what to do and you didn’t even have to tell him what pace to go at, he remembered.
“Hee! Right there.” you cried out. “R- Right there.”
“I’m so close.” he cried. “Shit..”
“Me too.” you held your hand out.
Heeseung grabbed your outstretched hand as you came together.
Silence overcame you both as he threw the condom into the bin and helped clean you up.
He tried to kiss you again.
You looked away.
It was clear that he had just cried but so had you.
The tension and emotion you had for each other was too strong.
“I’m sorry.” he croaked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Your arms pulled him into your embrace.
“It’s okay.”
He pulled back slightly and kissed you again.
This time it was light and if you weren’t paying attention, it would’ve felt as though he was never there.
You wiped his tears away before your own.
“Do you ever think about what life would be like for us, if things were different..?” he asked.
Someone burst into the room.
“You bitch!” Yunjin shouted at you.
It wasn’t hard to assume that you’d just had sex with the smell lingering in the room and the mirror fogged up.
“Huh?” you looked at Heeseung to explain.
“Wait, Yn- ”
You laughed in pain.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You’d just helped him do what broke your heart in the first place.
Instead of sadness or anger you just felt done.
“We were just talking.” you lied.
You weren’t covering for him. You knew that he needed the closure as much as you did but ultimately you were trying to save your own skin.
Yunjin looked furious.
“You can have him.” she seethed. “I should’ve known that he’d never get over you. But I didn’t think that you’d try to get at him.”
“Girl, take him. He’s yours.” you put your hands up, signalling that you were finished with whatever was going on. “I had him in the first place, I don’t want him anymore.”
You felt bad talking about Heeseung like he was an object while he was right in front of you but you pushed that aside.
“No-!” she frowned.
“I don’t want him anyway,” you turned to leave. “Girl take him.”
Yunjin didn’t even try to fight it.
She seemed shocked that you’d given up so easily.
“Heeseung,” you started. “To answer your question, I did. But I learned not to expect much from you.”
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you no longer cared enough to wish he was.
THE END.
#heeseung angst#enhypen heeseung#heeseung smut#lee heeseung#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen scenarios#heeseung scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen smut#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enha smut#enha x reader#enha scenarios#enha imagines#heeseung#heeseung hard hours#heeseung fanfic#heeseung imagines#enhypen angst
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mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops
Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader
CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry
Mychael as your boyfriend.
I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.
He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.
You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate
After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.
Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.
Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.
He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.
He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.
He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))
It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.
You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.
Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.
For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.
"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.
The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.
Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.
Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.
Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.
Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.
His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)
♡
#yandere visual novel#yandere#yandere x reader#headcanons#mychael x reader#mushroom oasis#mushroom oasis vn#mushroom oasis mychael#gn reader#mychael
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