#so dorian pulls his head to his shoulder to give him something to lean on and wraps an arm around his back

[attractthecrows]

the thought of the evening is about NIGHTMARES WHOOOO

[yeonzzzn]

✨capturing magic: park sunghoon

a vampires bleeding series: four / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 5.3k

synopsis: your witchy presence causes an uproar with sunghoon, him not enjoying the idea of you being anywhere near him. as you struggle to regain your strength and magic, the banter between you and sunghoon continue grow along with the pull of fate.

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, vampire!sunghoon, photographer!sunghoon, witch!reader, angst, some fluff.

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, y/n has long black hair and facial piercings, stubbornly cute sunghoon ♡

☾ jungwon(1) | jay(2) | jake(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | heeseung(7) ☽

“YOU BROUGHT BACK A WITCH?!” Sunghoon snapped, his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Yes!!” the dhampir snapped back, “We couldn’t leave her there to die!!” 

Sunghoon was filled with anger, blood boiling. 

“Let's all calm down…” Heeseung spoke up, placing a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Sunghoon slapped his hand away, “Hyung, that dhampir bringing this witch here will put us all in danger!!” 

“This witch is one of my best friends!” She yelled, “I wasn’t going to leave her, end of story!” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Yeah, and if we all die it’ll be the damn dhampir’s fault.”

“Hey!” Jake yelled, getting in his best friend's face, “That damn dhampir is my mate, watch your words. She’s in our pack now.” 

The room fell silent. Sunghoon figured he would have connected with the dhampir, the tension between the two was too obvious. 

“And for the record,” Jake said, taking a step back away from Sunghoon, “I’m the one who said to bring the witch here. We need information once she wakes up.” 

Sunghoon looks away from his friend, looking at the witch lying unconscious on the couch. 

He knew Jake was right. In order to stop Dorian, they needed any information possible. 

Sunghoon releases a breath, “Fine, do what you want with the witch.” 

And with that, Sunghoon stormed off. 

—

“Easy does it,” Heeseung grabbed your hands, helping you sit up.

It’s been exactly a week since Dorian burned down your village and killed your coven. You were the only surviving member. 

Your heart ached for those you’ve lost, but you knew their souls were somewhere free from the cruelness of this world. 

Most of your burns have healed from your recovery spell, but you still ached with each movement, making it harder for you to move. On top of that, your right leg was broken. And no recovery spell could make that heal any faster. 

The vampires have shown you kindness for the most part. One in particular doesn’t care for you much. 

Once you were completely sat up, you thanked Heeseung. 

Jay knelt down beside you, looking at the bandages that covered your arms, slowly lifting them up to look at your skin. 

“We can probably remove the bandages,” He said, lifting more of the bandage up to get a better look at your skin, “The only thing is, there’s a lot of scarring.”

You nodded, “Recovery spells can only go so far.” 

Jay removed the bandages, relieving the scars. You didn’t realize how bad they actually were until you looked directly at them. 

Flashbacks to the fire came back, shaking you to the core. You dropped your head into your hands, begging for the thoughts to go away. 

“Y/N,” your best friend drops beside you, her hands set gently on your shoulders, “what’s wrong?” 

Her voice alone was enough to snap you out of it, you quickly looked up at her, giving a nod, “I am fine, the scars just…” 

She sighs, “It brought back the memories?” 

You nodded again.

A scoff happened from across the room. You immediately glared in its direction. 

Sunghoon leaned against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, his black hair falling against his eyes. 

“Got something to say, bloodsucker?” you hissed.

Sunghoon raised a brow, “You gonna put a hex on me or something, witch?” 

You gripped the blanket that covered your legs, “I just might!” 

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. He smiled just enough to show his sharpened fangs and cracked his knuckles. 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Jungwon snapped, looking between the two of you, “This situation isn’t ideal, but we all have one goal in common, so please for the love of everything put your differences to the side and shut the fuck up.” 

Sunghoon sighed, retracting his fangs. 

“Good boy, listen to your leader.” you gave him a wink. 

“Y/N,” Jungwon warned. 

You sighed and relaxed your body. You were powerless in your current situation. 

A pack of vampires and two humans were your only source of protection at the current moment. Your coven was destroyed. This is all you have right now. 

Sunghoon scoffed, then stormed out the door into the night. 

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs to bathe and sleep in a bed finally?” your dhampir friend asks, giving you a soft smile. 

You removed the blanket, and more burn scars trailed down your left leg, while the other was covered in a cast from your knee down. 

You pulled your shorts down, trying to hide the scars. 

“Hey,” Jay’s mate kneels beside your friend, her soft hands taking yours, “These scars are proof that you survived, don’t try to hide them.”

You wanted to protest, to shout that she doesn’t understand what it meant to survive after what you went through. 

But then you noticed the scars on her neck. It didn’t take long for you to recognize that those scars were caused by Dorian. That __ survived almost being killed by him. 

You forced a smile, “These scars don’t just show that I survived, they show what I also lost.” 

“Then you’ll carry them with you forever,” she gives you a soft smile, “It’ll be a reminder of what Dorian has done, and what will be done to get back at him.” 

She was right. You gave her a smile back with a nod. 

Jay pulled his mate up and to his chest, wrapping her in his arms, “__ always knows what to say.” 

Their bond pulled at each of them. Jungwon pulls __ to him and Jake pulls your friend to himself. Sunoo, Niki, and Heeseung had smiles watching their pack. 

You too had a smile. You could feel the bond they shared. Their vibes and how their energies matched. 

You looked at your friend and Jake. The way he held her so tightly and her head in the crease of his neck. 

Your heart danced for them. You knew how much losing her first mate did a number on her. But you truly believe Jake was meant to be hers completely. She just had to go through some bullshit shit first. 

Eventually, you had enough of the love birds, positioning yourself to stand up. 

Your recovery spell healed your broken leg enough that you were able to stand up straight and still walk…but just barely. 

Your half-blooded friend noticed your struggles, releasing herself from Jake to help you up the stairs and into the bathroom. 

The reflection you saw in the mirror haunted you, a burn scar covering your left eye and up the side of your forehead. The recovery magic healed it enough that it was a light pink. 

A sigh escaped your lips, as you turned and faced away from the mirror. 

You cleaned yourself up, washing away the couch bum life you had for the last week. 

You were so glad to finally be able to sleep in a bed. Archer was nice enough to run to the nearest supermarket to buy you extra clothes, bed sheets, and other witchy essentials to have here. 

Your new room was filled with plants and crystals and a few books that Jake was able to salvage from the fire. 

You tried to stay awake to read, but your eyes failed you. After not sleeping in a bed for over a week, it was way too comfortable. 

—

You stood in front of the mirror, pulling your long black hair behind you and into a braid. Your bangs pull out perfectly down the sides of your face. 

Your half-blooded friend brought you some jewelry to wear, which you were ecstatic about. 

Witches can’t go without jewelry, right?

You pull some rings onto your fingers, then dangle earrings into your ears. 

A perfectly black hooped nose ring suited your nose and a lace choker around your neck and a short silver bar on your eyebrow. 

You pulled a white cropped tank top over you and a black baggy pair of cargo pants and black boot, and black cast boot on your right leg to match. 

A beautiful light brown cardigan made the outfit even more perfect. 

You did a three-sixty in the mirror, finally feeling and looking like yourself. 

You stared at the scar on your eye. You traced your fingers over it, feeling the rough skin. 

Dropping your hand back at your side, you turn and walk away from the mirror. 

The kitchen was lively, and laughter from your new friends echoed up the stairs as you made your way down. 

Jay stood at the counter flipping pancakes and bacon, a bag of blood attached to his lips. 

The two humans stood behind Jay, begging him to hurry with breakfast and Jay tried his best to shoo them off. 

Jake sat with __ on the couch. She ate a bowl of cereal while Jake drank his own bag of blood. 

Sunoo, Jungwon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table with a map in front of them discussing the layout of the area. 

Niki also sat at the table, backpack in his lap, and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a juice box. 

You giggled and walked over to the table, “You really are stuck in a seventeen-year-old body arentcha?” 

Niki rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately.” 

Heeseung checked his watch, “Off to school.” 

Niki groaned, throwing his head back against the wall, “This fucking sucks.” 

You softly smiled at the younger, “I’ll walk you out.” 

Niki stood up, throwing the backpack on. 

You went to the fridge, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water. The piles of blood bags filled the bottom shelf. 

Seeing the bags reminded you that one bloodsucker in particular was missing. 

“Where’s the idiot bloodsucker at?” you asked anyone who would give you an answer. 

Jake perked up, “That idiot bloodsucker has a name,” you shrugged your shoulders, and Jake sighed, “He’s outside doing his photography.” 

Your dhampir friend smiles at you, “Worried about him, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes, “He annoys me.” 

She smirked at you, “You look pretty.” 

You toss your braid over your shoulder, “Of course I do, part of being a witch is also being charming.” 

The vampires groan, which you expected. They might be being nice to you for the moment, but witches and vampires still don’t get along. 

You grabbed a blood bag along with your other items and closed the fridge. 

You patted Niki’s back, “Come on baby bro, let’s get you off to school.” 

—

Sunghoon sat up in a tree, camera in hand, and snapping photos of the open land. 

The morning sunrise hit the land perfectly. He changed a few filter and lens settings, finding the perfect combination. 

His mood changed once he heard the door to the house open, sensing Niki and you stepping out of the house. 

Sunghoon turned around, watching as you waved Niki off, him going into a full sprint and gone within seconds. 

You took a bite out of the apple in your hands, looking around until you made eye contact with him. 

Sunghoon glared before turning his attention back to his camera. 

“You lack a lot of manners bloodsucker, ya know that?” 

Sunghoon scoffed, looking down at you who was now underneath him. 

“Why do you care about my manners, hmm?” 

“Haven’t you heard? We have a common goal, gotta act like friends, don’t want Jungwon to snap our necks, right?” You loved teasing him. You loved how irritated you made him and how you knew exactly what to say to get under his skin. 

Deep down you really wanted to get along with all the vampires, Sunghoon was just the only one not budging. 

Sunghoon ignored you, his jaw clenched as he held the camera back up. 

You whistle at him, his eyebrow rising. 

Sunghoon was fixing to snap, “I know for a fact you didn’t just whistle at me like I am a dog.” 

“Look at me then.” You said. 

Sunghoon looked back at you, a warm smile on your face. 

You tossed the blood bag up to him, Sunghoon catching it. 

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?” 

All Sunghoon could do was stare at the bag, his tough exterior relaxing. 

“Thank you,” was all he could say. 

You smiled even brighter, taking another bite out of your apple. 

Sunghoon drank the blood as you finished off your apple and drank your water. 

“Can I see your work?” You asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Sunghoon glared at you again, “Why do you care?” 

You sigh, “Because believe it or not, we are kinda stuck with each other, soooo.” 

Sunghoon rolled his head, running a hand through his hair. 

He knew you were right. 

“You won’t put a hex on me if I come down, will ya hex girl?” 

You glared at him, “No you idiot!” 

Sunghoon smirked, “Sassy much, hex girl?” 

“Continue pushing my buttons and you’ll see, bloodsucker.” 

This small banter admittedly made Sunghoon happy. You were the first person to get under his skin and make it crawl, but returned every ounce of energy he gave out. 

Sunghoon flung himself down from the tree, waving you over. 

One by one, Sunghoon showed you all the photos he took this morning. 

“These are really beautiful, bloodsucker,” you said, patting his shoulder, “But it’s missing something.” 

Sunghoon once again glared at you, “Missing what, exactly?” 

You smile, pointing at yourself, “A model!” 

Sunghoon furrowed his brows at you, “I don’t need you in my photos hex girl, might put a curse on them.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Come on, just snap a few pictures.” 

Sunghoon wanted to protest, why should he take photos of his enemy? 

But with the way you looked right now, Sunghoon knew with the sunrise and open fields, you would be a perfect fit. 

He nodded, “Fine.” 

You smiled, skipping away from him. 

Sunghoon lifted his camera, snapping a few photos of you skipping. 

You stopped and quickly turned around, the biggest smile on your face. Sunghoon snapped that as a photo, his stomach doing flips. 

The way your lips curled as you smiled. How the sun brought out the color of your eyes. The way your hair fell and blew in the wind. 

Sunghoon stared at the photo. You were so beautiful. 

“Hey!” You snapped Sunghoon out of his trance, “Are you going to stare at the camera or tell me how to be a good model?” 

Sunghoon smiled, “Just…be you.” 

You thought about it, deciding to make a joke, “What if I do Wanda Maximoff poses? Like Scarlet Witch Style?”

Sunghoon blinked at you, “Can you actually do magic like that?” 

You glared at him, “No! I’m a witch, not a superhuman.”

Sunghoon glared back, “Well, I didn’t know what all you witches can do!” 

“Just think of us witches as hippies, just that we don’t smoke a shit ton of weed.” 

Sunghoon chuckled, his hand clenching his shirt from his laughter.

“What is so funny?” You tried to not laugh as well, but his laugh was contagious. 

“Just the way you explained witches,” Sunghoon took a deep breath, “I’ve only ever been in contact with witches who use darker magic, you’re the first who doesn’t.” 

You studied him and his smile, his natural fangs being present with his smile. 

You haven’t seen him smile at all since you met a week ago. 

You walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him. 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “What are you doing? Get away from me.” 

You sighed, “There’s that tough exterior.” 

You placed your hand on his cheek, he pulled away, but reached back for him, connecting your palm to his skin. 

Sunghoon’s heart was racing at your touch, his jaw locking together. 

You breathed in, “You have such a tough exterior, but are so caring and soft underneath it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo shit on me.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

It was the first time you actually called him by his name, and oh did it do numbers on him. 

He made eye contact with you, and immediately after, you backed away from him. 

Sunghoon knew why. There was a spark of electric energy that shot through the both of you, that small string slowly getting tied, but being still loose. 

He shook his head, not letting it tighten. 

“I’m going back to the house.” Sunghoon quickly turned and walked away, leaving you. 

You touched your chest, looking down at the ground. 

“What the fuck was that.” 

—

Sunghoon spent the rest of the day locked inside his room, flipping through the photos he had taken earlier that morning, stopping at the one of you. 

His heartstrings were being pulled. The moment of the string being attached to the both of you came back into his mind. 

“I can’t mate with a damn witch, it’s impossible,” he whispered to himself. 

But the more he looked at your photo, the more his heart called to you. 

He turned the camera off, set it on the bedside table, rolled over, and fell asleep. 

He woke up at the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. 

Sunghoon stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. 

He checked the time off his phone, rolling his eyes at the time. 

Sunghoon quickly got out of bed, sliding his sneakers on before walking out of his room, seeing the door to your bedroom was open. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “What the hell is she doing?” 

He found you outside by the pond sitting on the ground. Glass bottles filled with herbs sat in front of you, and a small fire was lit to your right. 

“It’s three a.m.,” he yawned, “why the hell are you outside at three a.m.” 

You turned and smiled at him, “I’m doing witchy things.” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “I already figured that, hex girl. I’m asking what exactly you are doing.” 

You turned back to the herbs, slowly mixing them together and setting them into the fire. 

“Don’t you know the witching hour is three a.m.?” 

Sunghoon shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Yes, isn’t that when your powers are at their strongest? Just like us on a new moon.”

“Exactly,” you sang, “My powers are only stronger for an hour, plus the protection barrier I put around the house was fading due to my injuries from the fire. I need to revamp my recovery spell as well, so these scars go away.” 

Sunghoon’s heart pulled towards you even more, you were sacrificing so much to protect everyone, to protect him when he does nothing but be an ass towards you. 

You stood up, brushing the dirt off your sweatpants, “The barrier on the house has been fixed, so yay!” 

Sunghoon nodded.

“But I ran out of herbal recovery leaves, so I need more of that to remove all these burn marks.” 

You started to walk away, only for Sunghoon to grab your arm.

You raised a brow at him, noticing how serious his face looked at you, “What?”

Sunghoon walked closer to you, tracing his fingers over the massive pink scar on your face, “You’re beautiful as you are,” his fingers moved over every inch of the scar, before moving down your cheek, his palm cupping your face, “You’re so beautiful, scars and all.” 

Your heart raced. He thought you were beautiful? You thought he hated you. But you couldn’t help but feel that tug to him, and notice his energy was matching that tug. 

“What is this feeling?” You asked, “This energy that’s flowing between us? It wasn’t there before today.” 

Sunghoon reached for your hand with his free hand, his eyes meeting yours, “It’s the string of fate.” 

You looked at him confused, “String of fate?” 

“When vampires meet their mates, a string of fate ties them together,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, “And I think we might have a string of fate tying around us.” 

“Is that another way of saying we are soulmates?” You made a grossed-out face at him, which earned you a glare. 

“Don’t look at me like that hex girl, you act like it’s a choice.” 

“Is it not?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Trust me if it was, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” 

“Must be spine-chilling knowing your string of fate is probably being tied to a witch.” you teased him. 

Sunghoon half smiled, biting his lower lip, “You know for someone who was the head witch of your coven and village, you sure don’t know a lot about vampires.” 

You rolled your eyes, finally pushing his hand from your face, “I was only recently appointed as head witch, it’s not something I wanted.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, “It’s like Jungwon being our leader, I don’t think he thought he was fit enough.” 

“Jungwon is doing fanatic, better than I was.” 

“I bet you were fine—“

“If I were fine,” you took a deep breath in, “Then Dorian wouldn’t have found a way to break the barrier over my village and wouldn’t have burnt down to ashes and killed my whole coven.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, embracing you, “I am so sorry they didn’t get to you in time. The moment Dorian would have been near Jake we would have known, we would have been there in seconds and…” 

“And what, bloodsucker?” 

“I could have saved you and your coven.” 

You looked up at him, “You hate me, hate witches, why do that?” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, pushing your long hair behind your ear, “I would have gone to protect Jake, he’s my best friend after all, but I would have met you sooner, and could have prevented what happened.” 

You stepped away from him, tears filling your eyes and not wanting him to see it. 

“I couldn’t have stopped what happened, but I can do something now to protect you and my pack.” 

You made eye contact with him, once again feeling that string of fate, it pulled your hearts together, you could feel and see the red energy wrap around the two of you, but you could also feel Sunghoon’s heart trying to reject it. 

“We can’t be mates, you won’t allow it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo on me.” 

you scoffed, “I’m not using voodoo! I am using my—“

“Just shut up and come over here and kiss me.” 

You stared at him, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You chuckled, “What?” 

“Y/N,” your heart stopped at hearing how beautifully your name rolled off his tongue, “I am fighting to push out that string of fate. Anytime I’ve thought about who my mate would be, I never once pictured it would be you. Yet here you are in front of me. We are total opposites and two different types of creatures. And if you go back into that house and ignore this fate, then we will continue this back and forth. But if you come over here and kiss me, I swear I’ll be good to you.” 

God damn that string of fate and god damn this vampire. 

You rushed to him, standing on your tiptoes to reach his lips. His hands found your waist. The red energy of this fate tied you two into a knot. Bonding you as mates. 

“Goddammit, hex girl,” he whispered in between kisses.

“Goddamnit, bloodsucker,” you whispered back. 

Sunghoon sat against the tree, with you between his legs. Back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. 

You leaned your head against his chin, watching as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon. 

“How long were you the head witch?” Sunghoon asked, taking your hands in his. 

You sighed, “Only two years, I was next in line but I didn’t want it.” 

“Why didn’t you?” Sunghoon was curious. Witches were something totally different than vampires, dhampirs, and even werewolves, their way of life was completely in the opposite direction. 

“I didn’t feel as if I was ready,” you leaned more into him, “I don’t have as many years on me as some of the other warlocks and witches in the village.” 

“And what time period are you from exactly?” Sunghoon teased. 

“I saw the Salem Witch Trials happen.” 

“Gosh you’re so old!” he teased you more, planting kisses on your cheek. 

“Oh shut up!” you shoved your back into his chest, “I can NOT believe I am stuck with you until the world ends.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart.” 

You both laughed and leaned more into each other. 

“Can I take a photo of us?” Sunghoon asked, “I want to capture this moment.” 

You nodded and he pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“No camera?” you teased. 

“Phone cameras work just as well.” 

You looked into the phone's camera and gasped, “Oh my god! I can see your reflection!” 

Sunghoon dropped his arm and rolled his eyes, “Shut up with your stupid ass jokes and take a nice photo with me, hex girl.”

You decided to stop teasing him and smiled into the camera. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of the two of you, the happiness he felt, he could see it written all over his face. 

“You know, I’ve never captured something as beautiful as you.” 

You looked up at him, “And I’ve never thought I’d have my own personal photographer to take model photos of me.”

“God you’re so annoying.”

Hand in hand, you followed Sunghoon back to the house. 

Everyone was awake and stopped everything they were doing in shock at the sight they were seeing. 

“Who would have thought,” Jake teased.

Sunghoon tried hard to fight back his smile, “Shut up.” 

Everyone laughed and joked along. 

You were happy. 

The moment you bonded with Sunghoon, you felt the same bond with the others, including your best friend and the humans in the pack. 

It wasn’t like your coven, but the bond was still there. You belonged somewhere again. 

You looked up at your mate, his smile working numbers on your heart. God you loved him so much already. 

But Sunghoon’s smile faded, and so did the other vampire's smiles. 

The room fell silent. The humans and you are both confused, clearly not being able to hear what they are hearing. 

“Something isn’t right,” Heeseung said quietly. 

“Sunghoon?” you take your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand tightly.

Before Sunghoon could open his mouth to speak, you sensed the other presence. 

You dropped your mate's hand, and slowly back away. 

You looked at your half-blooded friend, she was already looking at you. 

“Dorian...” you whispered, “He broke the protection barrier.” 

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, “Guys what do we do?” 

Before any more could be said, you and __ were running towards the door.” 

“No no no!!” Sunghoon and Jake both yelled, grabbing ahold of you and her. 

“Jake, fucking let go of me!!” she screamed. 

You also fought off Sunghoon’s grip on your arm, “Let go of me!” you hissed. 

“I am not letting you go out there!” He snapped.

You managed to get out of his hold and were out the door. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon yelled, going after you. 

__ released Jake’s grip and was following behind. 

Everyone else was right behind. 

Dorian stood at the edge of the pond, two women standing at his side, and a black portal opened behind him. 

You clenched your fist and you stood in front of him at a distance. 

“Dorian!” you hissed. 

“I see you survived being burned,” he laughed, “You unfortunately didn’t get the fate as your coven did.” 

“How dare you speak of them!” You took a step forward, only to be stopped by Sunghoon getting in front of you. 

Sunghoon glared down at Dorian, his rage hitting its peak. 

Dorian laughed, “Oh this is too good! Two enemies mated? This pack continues to surprise me.” He glances over at your best friend with Jake also at her side, “Ahh, nice to see you again, __. I also see you’ve mated again.” 

“Shut up!” the dhampir snapped, “Don’t you dare bring him up!! You murderer!!” 

Dorian’s laughter grew louder the more he made eye contact with each member of the pack. 

Jungwon and Jay have death grips on their mates. Their eyes narrowed and their jaws clenched.

“I would love to stay and chat up with you guys, but I only came for two of your mates, and that is all.” Dorian looked at the women at his sides, “Ladies will you do the honors?” 

The women both smiled and disappeared. 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, those two weren’t like normal vampires. 

“He used magic..” you whispered, “He figured out how to read the spells he stole from my coven.” 

Dorian’s laughter filled the air and it only made Sunghoon rage even more. 

With one blink of an eye, one of the women was at Sunghoon’s side, and then she was gone. She reappeared back at Dorian’s side with you in front of her, a knife pressed against your neck, the sharp edge making a cut, a small stream of blood dripping down. 

The other woman reappeared with the dhampir at Dorian’s side. 

As if on command, Sunghoon and Jake both rushed forward. 

They weren’t thinking clearly. Their brains fogged and only had their sights on their mates. 

Heeseung made it in time to grab Sunghoon, pulling him back, and Sunoo for Jake. 

“GIVE HER BACK!!” Sunghoon screamed, “FUCKING GIVE HER BACK TO ME.” 

“Sunghoon calm down,” Heeseung shouted, “He’s going to kill them both if you take one more step.” 

Sunghoon stopped fighting Heeseung, but Sunoo struggled to keep Jake at bay, until Heeseung repeated the same words again, causing Jake to fall to his knees. 

“Good,” Dorian said, “Would have been a shame to kill your mates in front of you.” 

“What do you want with our pack members!?” Jungwon snapped a low growl leaving his lips when he yelled. 

“I have some unfinished business with them,” Dorian stared down at Jungwon’s mate, causing Jungwon to press __ even closer to him, “I have some unfinished business with all of you actually, but Y/N and this dhampir are more important. They have something I need.” 

Sunghoon went to take a step, just to be stopped by hearing your whimpers as the knife was pressed harder against your neck. 

“Now then,” Dorian turned and faced the portal, “We shall be taking our leave then.”

He stepped through the portal, the women slowly following behind him. 

Sunghoon and Jake tried fighting Heeseung and Sunoo again. 

Both scream out for their mates.

Sunghoon felt powerless as he watched you disappear through the portal, quickly closing up after you stepped through. 

The last thing you saw was the tears that filled Sunghoon’s eyes. 

Once you were gone, all Sunghoon could do was fall to his knees, his fingers dug into the dirt as he stared down. 

The sounds of Jake’s cries muffled out. 

No one ever told Sunghoon how it would feel to have your mate taken from you, to feel the distance of how far they were. The loneliness of them not being at your side. 

Sunghoon couldn’t hold in his rage as he let out a yell until his voice was gone and his throat sore. 

The last thing Sunghoon remembered was Heeseung pulling him off the ground and dragging him into the house. 

—

Everyone sat in silence the next morning. 

Jake sat in the corner of the living room, knees to his chest and head on his knees, tuning out the world. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of you he had taken with his camera. His hands shook. 

“Dorian is going to pay.” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I am going to make him pay for the things he’s done and get my mate back.”

[shadowdaddies]

King's Queen

Dorian Havilliard x Reader

based on this ask

Summary: Dorian's mother makes her opinions on your relationship clear. You make your own opinions known. (angst → smut → fluff)

Warnings: smut below the cut, phantom hands/light bondage, minors dni

Wiping your hands nervously on the skirts of your dress, you gave Dorian’s mother a shy smile, reaching your hand towards hers to shake. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Georgina.” 

Piercing green eyes appraised you, lip twisting disdainfully at your outstretched hand as her back straightened. She spoke in a delicate voice that betrayed the vitriol of her words. “How informal of you,” she noted glancing between you and Dorian. “I do still hold the title of Queen, if you were unaware. You may also refer to me as ‘Lady Havilliard’.” 

With a flip of her long auburn hair, Georgina strolled towards her seat at the dining table, leaving you to awkwardly lower your hand to your side. Dorian quickly took your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he gave you a reassuring smile and guided you towards the table. 

You took your seat, glancing down the table to where Georgina sat next to Dorian’s brother, Hollin, cutting his steak for him as the woman doted on her younger son, hardly sparing either you or Dorian a glance. After pushing around the mashed potatoes on your plate for an insufferable amount of time, you mustered the courage to try speaking to Georgina again. 

With a deep breath, you plastered on a practiced, pleasant smile and turned towards where the queen sat. “Lady Havilliard, Dorian has told me that you quite enjoy the mountains. I’ve heard your home there is quite lovely - I can only imagine, if it holds a fraction of the beauty with which you’ve decorated this castle.” 

Her cold gaze flicked to you, her own fork dropping to her plate with a clatter. “Yes, it is a lovely home,” she acknowledged before quickly turning back to Hollin. Lifting her wine glass to her lips, Georgina murmured so quietly that it was hardly detectable, even with your fae hearing. “Much nicer than a fae servant is accustomed to, I’m sure.” The insults continued, Georgina continuing her verbal assault as you struggled through the meal.

The effects of her words weighing heavier and heavier, your hand moved to Dorian’s thigh, squeezing for comfort. His sapphire eyes focused on you, hand moving to rub the back of yours in an assuring manner as you hurriedly finished your meal. Quietly bidding Georgina and Hollin a good night, you dashed out of the room as quickly as you could.

You moved at an exceptionally fast pace, stopping when Dorian grabbed your wrist, twirling you around to see his concerned gaze. Noting the barely held-in tears in your eyes, Dorian pulled you into the nearest room. Eagerly crossing the drawing room, you took a seat on the plush velvet sofa, burying your face in your hands. 

Dorian crouched in front of you, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs. “My love, are you alright? I know my mother is unpleasant, and I am so sorry for that.” 

You shook your head, leaning back against the seat as a wry chuckle left your lips. “It wasn’t only that she was so stiff and dismissive. You should have heard the things she said about me when she knew that you couldn’t hear. I am nothing but a fae servant, I only care for you for your title, I am not worthy of you.” Voice breaking at those last words, your shoulders shook as you began to cry into Dorian’s shoulder.

He held you for a long moment, letting you process your emotions before he placed a kiss to your head. “Are you going to be alright?” Sniffling, you nodded, and Dorian stood.

“I have something to take care of, but I will meet you in our bedroom,” he promised, giving a soft kiss to your lips before the both of you departed in different directions. 

As you meandered back to your room, your head began to ache from all the tears you had spilled this evening. With a sigh of resignation, you turned back towards the kitchens in search of some water. The familiar shrill voice of Georgina Havilliard pricked your ears, and you rolled your eyes as you continued walking - until a deep, irritated voice rose louder. 

Recognizing Dorian as the other person speaking, you quietly tiptoed towards the conversation, listening as you moved through the hallway. Rage boiled through you as you registered Georgina’s words coming from the cracked door up ahead. “I am not indifferent towards you, Dorian. I have given up on you. You are a consistent disappointment, and this common woman... pardon, fae - she spoke the word, dripping with disdain - is the perfect example of your poor choices. You are nothing as I hoped you would be.” 

You could not bear to hear any more of her venom, nearly bursting the solid wood door off of its hinges as you burst into the room, halting Dorian and Georgina where they stood. Your eyes burned with fury as you turned towards the woman, barely maintaining the leash you held on your fae instincts which called on you to rip her to shreds. 

Not bothering with pleasantries, you spoke in a voice you’d reserved for the worst of your enemies. “You may speak however you wish about me, but if I hear you belittle Dorian like that again, I will cut out your tongue. It is a miracle that your King is the exceptional man that he is, having come from you. It would be wise of you to recognize that.”

The air was heavy in the room, a long moment passing as Georgina shriveled under your intense gaze. With a sniffle, the woman raised her head, courageously lifting her green eyes to you as she spoke. “I will bear that in mind.”

With a smile, you nodded, once more wishing her a pleasant evening as you took Dorian’s hand and guided him out the door and towards your bedroom. Closing the door behind you, you turned to see Dorian’s sapphire eyes wide in shock as he stared at you. “Are you okay?” you whispered, becoming increasingly worried that you might have frightened him with your actions.

Dorian surprised you, his lips curving into a mischievous smile as he turned you around. Black hair hung in his eyes as Dorian towered over you, arms caging you in as he backed you against the wall. “That was the most spectacular... sexiest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he purred, leaning in as he dragged his nose up your neck.

His teeth found your earlobe, a moan leaving your lips as he tugged before moving back to your neck, slowly kissing his way down to your throat. “Dorian,” you whispered, arms wrapping around him as you begged his body closer to yours. 

Dorian tsk’d at you, a wicked smirk gracing his lips as invisible hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head. You were trapped against the wall, desperately writhing as you begged Dorian to come closer. Instead, he stepped away, stroking his chin as he admired you on display like a work of art. 

Slowly, so slowly, Dorian walked back forwards, dragging one finger down your throat to your sternum, the peak of your breasts exposed in the gown you had donned for the evening. As if another set of hands worked behind you, the laces of the dress were undone, Dorian easily sliding the fabric off of you until it fell to the floor. 

“Gods, you are beautiful,” he murmured, his hand still idly tracing your body as you panted under his teasing touch. 

“Please, Dorian. Touch me,” you begged. Dorian let out a low groan, his eyes darkening as his control snapped. He surged forward, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he tilted your head to kiss you deeply, tongue thrusting and swiping along the roof of your mouth as his other hand moved lower down your stomach.

Arching your hips into his touch, you whimpered when his fingers ghosted over your soaked core before he pulled away. You gasped, your anger lasting only a moment before the shadow hands released you, Dorian throwing you over his shoulder. 

Dorian landed a playful smack to your bare ass, earning a yelp from you before he tossed you onto the bed, shadow hands returning to spread your arms and legs for him. You huffed in frustration, your arousal nearly painful as you begged again. “Dorian, I need you inside me, please.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, Dorian leaned down, kissing his way up your thighs before settling to hover over your heat. “I promise to make love to you tonight, but first I intend to worship you, thoroughly, my Queen.”

The moan that left you at his words quickly turned to a gasp as Dorian gripped your thighs, sucking harshly on your clit before thrusting his tongue into your core. He groaned at the taste, moving to flick his tongue against your clit as he brought a finger to curl inside of you. 

Back arching as much as the invisible restraints would allow, you reached your high with a scream that you wee certain echoed through the castle. 

Dorian quickly rid himself of his pants, lining up his hard length at your entrance as you nodded, granting him permission to push in. Jaw dropping in a silent moan at the pleasure, you felt Dorian’s head fall against your shoulder as he settled fully inside of you. 

Phantom hands vanished, allowing you to pull Dorian into a searing kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist as you encouraged him to move. He rocked into you slowly but precisely, intentionally hitting a perfect angle that dragged out both your pleasure. Overcome by the gentleness of the moment, you whispered “I love you,” through silver lined eyes.

Dorian kissed you fiercely, pulling back to press kisses on every part of your face, whispering “I love you”s with each touch. With a shudder, he finished inside of you, rolling to the side as he held you close. 

You pushed the hair from Dorian’s eyes, admiring his beauty as you sighed in contentment. “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have a man like you in my life,” you murmured, snuggling into his warm chest.

Dorian wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and pressed a kiss to your hair. “I am the lucky one, my love.”

[shadowdaddyazriel]

Four's A Party

summary: You meet Azriel, Ruhn Danaan, and Dorian Havilliard at a bar and have a night none of you will ever forget.

warnings: smut!!!! foursome, praise kink, mmmf, etc etc.

leave a comment if you enjoy ;)

The music in Rita’s was thrumming so loud I swore I could feel it vibrating through my veins. I swayed to the music, pulling my hair up off my neck to cool off. The song stopped and faded into something slower and I excused myself from my friends to head to the bathroom to have a second to catch my breath . 

I sigh, grabbing the door handle and swinging the door open wide. I gasp, staggering back a step as I nearly run smack into a hulking male figure in the doorway. He grabs my arms, steadying me. I look at his face then, and I really and truly could have disappeared. Of course I just walked in on the hottest man I’ve ever seen. 

“Well, hello,” he coos, his voice so deep I could practically hear it rumbling in his chest. Gods, as if he needed to be hotter. Looking up at him, my head tipped back to accommodate his height. He towered over me.

“Hi,” I managed to choke out.

“I think someone was in there,” he lets out a dark chuckle. “But you’re good now, baby.” He nods his head at me in salutation and moves around me. I spin, dumbfounded and staring after him. He looked back over his shoulder with a devilish grin and a wink. 

I sucked in a breath, quickly walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I clicked the lock into place, smoothing down my hair and taking a deep breath. I was so sick of my friends always having these risque adventures on nights out and just expecting me to be the celibate innocent friend. I looked in the mirror, giving myself a pep talk to do something ballsy for once. 

I turned and swung open the door, revealing the beautiful male I’d run into leaning against the wall beside the door smirking at me with a wicked look in his eyes. Almost like he was waiting for me to come out. And I just decided… I mean, fuck it. 

I grabbed the male by his shirt pulling him after me as I walk backwards into the bathroom giving him a smoldering suggestive look. He was grinning like the Cheshire cat. And gods, I wanted to taste that smile. 

The door banged shut behind us and the male clicked the lock into place. He towered over me again, surveying me with a wicked glimmer in his eyes. Those beautiful hazel eyes. 

“Hi again, princess.” He purrs. I swallow, bravery fading with every second he looked at me. I wanted to squirm under his glance, the intensity of it thrilling. I’m sure my cheeks were incredibly flushed.

Before I knew what he was doing, he gripped my waist, lifting me to sit on the sink, parting my legs to stand between them. His hands found the sides of my face, thumbs stroking in calming passes as he continued to stare into my eyes. 

And then smashes his mouth into mine. My back arches and I moan into his mouth as he kisses me with fervor. He bites my lower lip, tugging it between his teeth as his tongue caresses it. I went liquid under his touch, little bolts of electricity snaking down my spine and to my core. 

“Couldn’t even ask me my name first, could you, pretty girl?” he chuckles, hands sliding down my shoulders and beginning to roam my body. 

“What’s your name?” I say, placing my hands on his defined chest. 

“Azriel.”

“Hmmm. Hi, Azriel,” I said with a cheeky grin. 

He hummed, kissing me again and whispering against my lips, “Say that again, I liked it.”

“Azriel,” I whisper against his mouth and his mouth reclaims mine. 

“What’s yours, princess?” He asks, leaning back to look at me again, biting his lower lip. 

“You don’t need to know,” I say, raising my eyebrows in a challenge. He leans forward, lips claiming my neck, making me sigh into him, my body pliant. 

He pushes his hip against mine, my skirt hiking up to my hip bones. I can feel how hard he is through his jeans as he presses into me. I arch into him, groaning at the friction. 

My hands bury into his hair as he moves to pull my shirt over my head. His head dips down to pull my nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around it. I was drenched, arching for him. Gods, this was an even better idea than I thought. I couldn’t even believe what was happening right now.

A loud banging on the door signals that someone has been waiting for a while now. My eyes go wide and he chuckles quietly at my expression. 

“Guess we’ll have to be quick then. Good thing you’re already soaking wet for me, huh?” He coos, his fingers pushing my underwear aside to run two fingers up my slit, the glide of me ripping a low growl from his pink lips. 

My hands grab his belt, quickly fumbling to get his pants off. He helps me, freeing himself. My eyes go wide at the sight of him, my throat going dry. He was perfect. I wanted- no, I needed him inside of me, filling me. He palmed his cock rubbing the tip along my entrance at an achingly slow pace. I claw at him, needing more. He chuckles, nipping my earlobe.

“Such a greedy little slut, aren’t you? Sneaking me into the bathroom, desperate for me to fill you,” he says, and within seconds he fills me completely, slamming all the way to the hilt. My body clenches around him in shock, and he lets out a heavy breath, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Can I move?” He groans, eyes closed and head tipped back slightly. And gods is he a sight to see. A greek god among men. 

“Fill me with you.” I moan, writhing against him in anticipation.”I want to feel you tomorrow and remember just how good you felt inside me.”

He thrusts into me again, both of us clinging to each other for dear life. The sound our connection makes is filthy, making me even wetter around the huge length of him. He fit me perfectly, and I never wanted this to stop. My nails dug into his arms as he continued to slide in and out of me, the feeling of him gliding against my walls almost too much to bear. I’d had sex, sure. But never sex that felt like this. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, lips latching back onto mine as we sloppily kiss each other, both desperate to reach our respective climaxes. We breathe into each others mouths, foreheads pressed together as he fucks me like his life depends on it. 

I feel myself begin to throb around him, the increasing pleasure of it overwhelming. A tear leaked from the corner of my eye as he moves his hand between us to circle my clit. I grind against him, begging for the contact. 

“Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl? You gonna come on my cock?” He groans into my mouth, hands knotted in my hair. The smell of him was entirely intoxicating. I wanted to swallow him whole. 

His hand gripped my chin, pulling back to look into my eyes as I finally reach that euphoric peak, clenching around him and letting out a moan I’m sure the whole bar probably heard. 

He followed me over the edge, pumping into me at a continually messier speed, panting as he filled me with him. He paused inside me, leaning his forehead against mine as we both caught our breath. 

Slowly, he pulled out of me, jaw slack as he continued to breathe heavily, watching his cum spill out of me. He gently helped me clean myself up and pull my clothes back into place before grabbing my hand and leading me to the door. 

He unlocked it, swinging the door open to reveal two other tall males, arms crossed with shit-eating grins on both of their faces as they take in the two of us. 

“I was gonna give you shit for taking so long, but now I understand. I wouldn’t be in a rush either.” The one on the left says. He has long black hair with one side of his head shaved. He was absolutely covered in tattoos and piercings and looked like my bad boy fantasy come to life. 

“Wow, real nice, Ruhn.” Azriel says, running a hand through his hair and looking over at me nervously. 

“You are a delightful little thing,” the other one says, voice like deep silk. His crown of dark hair only made an even more stark contrast to his piercingly blue eyes. Cauldron boil me, these were three of the hottest men I’d ever seen in my entire life. How had I managed to stumble upon this? 

“I could say the same,” I say, one eyebrow cocking up as I looked back and forth between the three of them with a sly grin. 

“Consider me free real estate, sweetheart. I’m here for the taking,” The long haired one- Ruhn said. Azriel threw him an incredulous look.

“Can I not sample the whole menu?” I ask Azriel, running my fingers lightly down his arm. He shivers under my touch, looking at me like he doesn’t know what to make of me. And truthfully, I’m not sure I know what to make of myself right now.

“Scared she’ll like us more, Az?” The blue eyed male jokes with a wink at their friend. The dynamic here was most certainly flirty from all four parties. Oh gods. Four. Was I really about to walk myself into what I thought I was? This was all so out of character but I was so godsdamned turned on at the thought of these three males all over me.

“There’s enough of me to go around,” I say, skin nearly buzzing with the sexual tension passing between us all. 

“I mean, Dorian, your apartment is two blocks away. If you’re serious of course. Don’t feel pressured, please.” Azriel says, eyes slightly weary at the idea, as if he was scared I was going to be offended by them even asking. And in any normal situation, I probably would have been. But not with these three mouthwatering men surrounding me. 

“What? Are you scared, Azriel? I don’t bite unless you ask me to,” I wink at him, and Dorian lets out a shocked laugh as he surveys me, eyebrows raised in peaked curiosity. As if I was some creature he wanted to explore and mine for secrets. 

“I think I’ll like you better with a gag in your mouth,” he purrs, leaning in to lick a stripe up my neck. “So I would watch the attitude, pretty girl.” 

Now it’s my turn to act shocked. I was utterly throbbing at his words and the idea that these three males wanted me. “Let’s go then.”

The boys turned on their heels and headed for the exit with zero hesitation, directly to Dorian’s apartment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“My filthy girl,” Azriel murmurs to me, pulling my hair up off my neck for better access. In front of me was Ruhn, on his knees and kissing my hip bones, slowly making his way to my most sensitive areas. 

All of us were entirely too clothed. I intended to remedy that issue.

“Take your clothes off. I want to see all of you,” I pant, locking eyes with each of them in request. With looks of devouring lust, they all happily obliged, each stripping entirely naked. And gods please have mercy, they were all just as well endowed as Azriel. 

“Your turn, princess,” a voice whispers into the ear on the opposite side of where Azriel sucked on my neck. Chills raced across my skin at the seduction in Dorian’s voice. He lifted my shirt over my head, revealing my laced bra underneath. 

“Somebody wanted to get fucked tonight, didn’t they?” Dorian grinned against my shoulder, fingers moving to smoothly unlatch my bra, sliding the straps down my shoulders and allowing the garment to slide to the floor. 

I felt Ruhn’s mouth cover my heat over my panties and my knees almost bucked out from under me. My hands grabbed onto his shoulder for support and he laughed against me, the sound a rumble that sent vibrations through my aching core. Ruhn stood then, picking me up and walking me over to the bed. I lay horizontally across the bed and all three males approach me like predators approaching prey. 

“Scoot up and let your head hang off the bed,” Dorian coaxed and I obliged. He rubbed my cheek in approval. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

I let out a soft moan at his words. I slid my panties down my legs, throwing them across the room to where I suspected my clothes were. I laid my head back, looking up at Dorian who stood on the side of the bed, hips directly in front of my face. My eyes locked with his as I oh so slowly parted my legs, baring myself to them all. They all let out groans, moving in to be closer to me. 

Ruhn settled back between my legs, blowing air across my cunt, making me squirm for him. He then with no warning latched his hot, wet mouth to me and I let out a string of expletives that could make a sailor blush. His tongue parted me, expertly swirling my clit and humming against me. 

Azriel’s mouth lowers to my nipple, tongue swirling and teeth grazing. My back arched, and as soon as it did, Dorian placed the tip of his cock at my lips, silently commanding me to open my mouth for him. I did, tongue swirling his tip sensually as I did, and his hips bucked up into my mouth. My hands reached up to grip his thighs, encouraging him to fuck my face. 

He pauses for a moment to catch his breath, but that simply won’t do. I want him writhing and crying out for me. I swirl my tongue again, sucking on him. He involuntarily bucks into my mouth again and sighs in exasperation, giving up on trying to be gentle when that was clearly not what I was after.  

“Tap… tap my thigh if you need a break,” he pants, thrusting into my mouth. Upset at my attention being divided, Ruhn works me harder, tongue plunging in and out of my hole. He pulls back and pulls the flat of his tongue all the way up me in achingly slow passes. I grind my hips on his face, earning a moan of approval from him as he gripped my hips with force, pushing me harder into his mouth. 

I hear male groaning as I open my eyes, noticing Dorian’s arm reaching over me and to the side. He fisted Azriel’s cock, pumping him up and down as he fucked into my mouth. Holy. Fucking. Shit. The idea of the two of them working to pleasure each other made me want to turn molten. And Ruhn chuckles against me as he felt me throbbing against his face. 

“I think our dirty girl likes watching you pumping Az’s cock, Dor.” He grinned before reattaching his mouth to my core. 

“Yeah, pretty girl? You like watching him getting me off while I’m watching them eat your pretty cunt and fuck your throat?” Azriel purred, hands running down my stomach in exploration. Goosebumps covered my flesh and I sucked Dorian harder, dragging a feral groan from his lips. 

I came on Ruhn’s face, crying out as he rode me through my high. My noises cause Dorian to shake, his cum spilling down my throat as he shuddered in pleasure. 

Ruhn stood up and leaned over me, balancing on one arm. He brushed his thumb along my lower lip. “Think you can take all of us at once, sweetheart?”

I nod eagerly, making him give a ferocious grin. His thumb swiped a bit of Dorian’s cum from the corner of my mouth, raising it to his own lips and tasting it. He hummed at the taste. These men must share each other, and quite often to be this comfortable bedding a female together and engaging in mutual pleasure. The idea of it was so hot. 

Ruhn circled the bed until he was by my head. “Scoot back and get on your hands and knees, baby.” I obeyed, doing as he said. He climbed onto the bed in front of me on his knees, cock lined up with my mouth. I glided the flat of my tongue against the tip of him, looking up at him from under my lashes. His eyes turned dark with lust. 

I felt fingers at my entrance and turned to find Dorian and Azriel behind me. Dorian climbed onto the bed next to me, sliding his body underneath mine, my legs straddling his. He reached up, gently pulling my hips down onto his. We both moaned as my soaking cunt slid across his swollen cock. I rub myself against him, enjoying the glide and feel of my clit against him. He coaxed me, pulling my nipple into his mouth and biting down gently.

“That’s it. Good girl. Use my cock and get yourself off, baby. Come for me.” His words sent lighting bolts to my core, having me a throbbing panting mess in under a minute. I came again, this time so hard I thought I saw stars. Dorian lifted my hips again to line himself up with my entrance and sliding me down onto him with a growl. 

I felt Azriel’s fingers at my backside, gently pressing in one lubed finger, and then adding another, preparing me to take him and Dorian at the same time. Once he feels I’m properly worked up, he pushes into me with a groan I was certain could be heard down the street. 

The two of them fucked into me relentlessly, the feeling of them so full and so tight I couldn’t think straight. Ruhn rubbed the side of my face soothingly, allowing me to adjust to the feeling of Azriel and Dorian before pushing his cock back into my mouth, prompting me to suck him off. The four of us worked each other in tandem, the sounds filling the room utterly obscene, and only fueling my arousal. I felt Dorian and Azriel begin to twitch inside me, the two of them nearing climax at the same speed, which spurred mine onwards, gripping around them tighter as I groaned around Ruhn’s cock, the vibrations causing him to spill down my throat. 

We all slowly untangled from each other, collapsing in a messy pile trying to catch out breath. We were all so sweaty and exhausted. 

“So… same time next week?” We all laugh, nodding in agreeance.

[greypetrel]

[WRAP] for cullen/aisling? ❤️

Oooh this got me so indecisive between ANGST and FLUFF. Decided on the ANGST. Some hurt/comfort after Before the Dawn. ☺️

From this list, if anyone wants to ask another prompt!

  [ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

Nobody wants to talk, still.

Three days after they made their way out of Dumat’s Temple, the party’s been closed off in a tense silence, speaking just out of necessity, when months of travelling and camping and fighting together are proving to be not enough to just guess movements and requests with but a nod of the head. Even Dorian seems to be at a loss for words, and Varric lost all that he had left after a couple of attempts at jokes.

It has been… Worse than the Emprise du Lion, and that was saying something. The extreme temperature changes of the desert surely aren’t helping, as it osn’t the fact that resources were limited and Cassandra was adamant in rationing, since even Aisling couldn’t work out much to find good, reliable sources of waters beside the wells that marked the road back south east.

Aisling is trying to keep up and stay strong, functional and efficient as a person and as a leader all the time. She slept little, and when she did, it was on the saddle, silently handling the reins to the Seeker when the map and their journey there promised a good deal of nothing for the next hours of night riding to avoid the extreme heath. But, she has been affected too, by what they saw and read, and more than anything by what Maddox told them. And to add to everything that was weighing on her mind, Cullen… Has not taken it well either. And how could he, after all? One thing was discovering that the order that was once your whole life has gone mad and sold itself to the last wannabe evil overlord, for reasons you can vaguely understand, another… Another is knowing that a person you knew experimented on people who were loyal to and trusted him so much.

She knows him well, she knows it’s a lot to take in and digest, and so she didn’t pressure him, slipping into professional mode easily and doing more than she technically would have to, so to ease the burden off his shoulders a little and leave him time to think.

By now, they’re setting up camp in the outskirt of an oasis, the sky paling in the approaching dawn, and Cullen’s just… Not returned from a hour, after going to “check the perimeter” on foot. Aisling’s worried, and doesn’t listen to Varric suggesting her to leave him be. She just hops on her horse, patting his neck with affection and gently asking him to please endure a little more after the whole night of travel, and spurs him on to the direction he went.

It’s not difficult to find him, really, staring at some old ruins half buried in the sand at the other end of the oasis, standing in the middle of the small circle of crumbled columns after he checked for trapdoors and dungeons, no doubt. There’s no veilfire torch waiting to be lit, no runes or weird inscriptions. Whatever that building was, it is long forgotten.

She doesn’t even dismount: all she does is having Little Brother slow down, approaching him from the side. He still hates when she just walks her horse on stone pavements, but for once he doesn’t complain.

“Something noteworthy?” She asks, simply, in the most neutral tone she can muster. It comes out as tired, but there’s really no point in masking, not with him.

“No. Just palms and stones.” He replies, equally tired, and from more than the long ride in the night.

She humms to signal she heard him, and just leans on her side, offering him a hand.

“Let’s get back.”

Cullen doesn’t say anything, there’s no need to. He just sighs, nodding and turning to take the offered hand. She slips her foot away from the stirrup, slipping a little forward to give him more ease to mount and space to sit, and hushing the horse when he does and the weight on the back adds up. It’s not far and Isa’ma’lin is strong, they can make it.

Commander safely on the saddle, she shakes her head when he offers her the stirrup back, and clicks her tongue twice to start walking back, easily guiding the horse around and outside the ruins. She keeps a walking pace, not wanting to overdo it and, honestly, taking the chance for some moments closer to the man she loves. It’s been a while and she misses him, with everything she really would need him close, but won’t pressure him into anything. So, she takes what he can give, even if it’s just a slow ride back to camp on the same horse.

“You’re tired.” He notices.

“You too.”

“Want to- Ah, give me the reins?”

“And guide my horse? No way, good sir. We both like you, but don’t push it.” She chuckles, tiredly and forcing it up just a little. But… “I didn’t mean to-”

She corrects right after, realising it could sound bad or give the wrong message, right now and then. It’s just a stupid matter of pride, really.

“I know.” He guffaws, in the same tired way, before the conversation dies again.

It’s like taking a breath, in the quiet of the incoming dawn, stars quickly disappearing and sky vaguely turning lighter, lilac to the east. She pulls on the rein: if Cullen laughed at her joke, maybe he won’t mind if she takes the longer route back, not cutting through the palm trees and shrubs but circling the oasis. Slower, but it’ll allow for a view of the dawn on the distant mountains. He doesn’t say anything as she turns the horse left and reassures a mildly disapproving snort from the equine with a dismissive “Hush, you bicoloured doofus!”.

By the time they reach the outskirts of the oasis and Aisling turns the gelding east again, directed to camp and facing the sunrise, the Commander on her back clears his throat to speak, gently resting his hands on her hips, very tentatively as if it could break her. The elf doesn’t react in any way, in a silent “go on”, and after a moment, he speaks.

“About the Temple…”

“It was difficult for you, wasn’t it?”

“No! I mean – yes, but… It’s not what I wanted to say.”

She hums, waiting for him to collect the right words, put them in order, displaying each of them as he would the pieces on a chessboard. He always does, when he has to say something important, and she learnt to give him his spaces.

“About- About Maddox… Aisling, if I ever-”

Oh, she knows that voice. He stutters and fumbles on his words when he’s embarrassed, but that broken, ragged tone is the one of “I’m flailing myself”, is the one of any lyrium withdrawal or any burst of regret over minor things that aren’t under his control, as much as he tries. She shakes her head, decisively. She wouldn’t have any.

“No, venhan.”

“Let me-”

“No, Cullen. I know what you’re saying and- And, no. You won’t.”

“I did.”

“You won’t, not anymore, not with this regret.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Take your time. I’m here.”

She leaves the rein on the withers, to sneak her hands slightly back and close fingers on his wrists. Slowly and delicately, so he has time to oppose the movement, she moves them forward, arms and bust slipping towards her in the movement, as she brings both hands to hug her waist, leaning back into him for good measure and not caring if he’s still wearing armour nor if the fur on his collar tickles her ears and her neck. She sighs contently, as he slowly accepts the hug for what it is and brings her closer, spreading legs further and tucking her in, securely. She leans back, solid and grounding and protective, even being smaller than him of a full head, size difference even greater from her not wearing armour. She’s there, she smells like her elfroot lotion, and he’s rarely been as grateful of her presence as in this moment.

“I missed you.” She tells him, after a minute, voice little as if it’s a secret, looking intently at the sun peeking above the horizon, turning the sky in pink and peaches.

"I'm here for you as well. You know it?"

She just nods against his cheek, melting a little, back slouching forward. If he peeks at her profile he can see the eye towards him is watery, shining bright in the dawn, and he knows in an instant that she’s letting go as well, she needs to but doesn’t want to.

“I’m here.” He repeats, squeezing her snugly and tight, and that’s all she needs to believe him, tears falling off her eyes with a snort. He kisses one away, bending slightly. “I’m here.”

[herenya-writes]

Day 14: Castle

Arlaros watched the Inquisition soldiers drag the mayor of Crestwoood away. He didn’t know what would happen to him. He had sentenced him to exile from Ferelden; did that mean the Inquisition would carry him to the Orlais border and drop him there? His advisors seemed to expect him to know what to do, what to say, and what the consequences of everything he did and said were. But he didn’t. What gave him the right to sit in judgment over a person who had committed a crime ten years ago? His glowing hand? Why was this his job and not the king of Ferelden’s?

He leaned back and closed his eyes. The great hall was mostly empty today. Apparently the visiting nobles of Orlais didn’t care what happened to the mayor of a nowhere town in Ferelden. There were still Inquisition members and a few merchants, but for the moment Arlaros decided to ignore them and just sit there.

There was a headache building behind his eyes, one he knew wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. He was supposed to meet with his advisors in a little while to look over the war table and decide what their next moves would be. There was that issue of succession in Ledes he hadn’t had time to consider yet, and Josephine would probably want him to make a move on it soon. It was a position of minimal political importance, his advisors claimed, but having the successor in their pocket would be useful in the Orlesian court apparently. Once again, he didn’t understand what gave him the right to make these decisions, sitting on his throne like a king in a castle.

“My lord?”

His musing were interrupted by a timid voice, and he opened his eyes to see one of Leliana’s runners hovering at the foot of his throne. He held back a sigh.

“Yes?”

“Sister Nightingale wishes to speak with you. She said it was urgent.”

This time, Arlaros did sigh. “Thank you. Tell Leliana I’ll be there shortly.”

The messenger nodded and ran off toward Leliana’s tower. Arlaros stood from his throne—Creators, why did they give him a throne?—and made his way to the tower at a slower pace. The mostly-empty hall meant he wasn’t interrupted on his way over, although Varric did nod to him with something like sympathy in his eyes. Was it obvious how far in over his head he was?

He climbed the stairs to the library, taking a moment to breathe in the smell of books. They hadn’t had very many books in his clan, but he had always loved the smell of them. The Inquisition's library was larger than anything he had ever seen, and he had begun to take some comfort in being surrounded by books.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t linger. He forced himself to keep moving toward the second set of stairs. Before he could reach them, though, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He barely resisted the urge to jump and turned instead to see Dorian.

“Ah, my apologies for startling you,” he said, voice as smooth as silk. “I simply wanted to let you know I think you did the right thing. The mayor committed a horrible crime, but locking him up or sentencing him to death would only trap everyone in that moment. You’ve given him a chance to atone.”

Arlaros found himself at a loss for words. His thinking when he had sentenced the man had been along similar lines, but he had been so out of his depth. He had lived through the Blight, of course, but his clan had been mostly untouched, thankfully. He didn’t know the horrors the way Ferelden did. Still, he hadn’t been able to send the man to his death, and there didn’t seem to be a point in jailing him.

“Thank you,” he finally managed. “I’m glad to know someone approves.”

Dorian frowned at him. “Surely you have more people in your corner than just the mage from Tevinter.”

Arlaros shrugged. “Some of the others probably appreciate what I did. Solas, probably. Maybe Josephine. I haven’t exactly taken a poll.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. Well, none of us envy you. That throne looks terribly uncomfortable.”

Arlaros’s lips pulled into something that was almost a smile. “You’d think with all the money the Inquisition has spent on fixing Skyhold, they’d at least buy me a cushion,” he joked.

���It’s a disgrace, is what it is,” Dorian declared with the air of a man condemning an act of war. “Can’t have our Inquisitor’s lovely backside bruised by his own throne.”

That pulled an actual laugh out of Arlaros. Then, the caw of a crow echoed through the rotunda and he remembered why he was here. He schooled his face into something approaching neutrality and nodded to Dorian. “You’ll have to excuse me; I’m late for a meeting with Leliana.”

“I suppose that’s reason enough to leave my delightful company. Give our Sister Nightingale my regards.”

Arlaros promised he would and headed for the stairs, his mind already turning to other things. By the time he finished his conversation with Leliana, he had all but forgotten his exchange with Dorian. Until a week later, when a tasteful velvet cushion appeared on the throne.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Winter Whumperland #12

Dragon Age - #12 - Animal Attack

Anytime there’s an animal attack prompt you already know I’m just writing about the bears. It’s my coping mechanism for how many times they kicked my low-level ass :’)

*

“We should return to camp,” Lavellan said. 

“Tired already?” Dorian teased. “And we’ve hardly done a thing today.”

“Oh no, just closed a few rifts, typical small business,” Lavellan said. 

“Is it tiring for you to do?” Cassandra asked, nodding to his hand.

Lavellan looked down at his hand. “If I do it too much, yes. I’m fine. I just need to get some sleep before we set out again.”

“It is getting dark out,” Cassandra agreed. “Let’s go. We’ve got a camp about a mile west of here.” 

“Just another mile?” Varric said. “Great. We’ll reach it by the time it’s too dark to see we’ve reached it. Onwards, then.”

Dorian moved to Lavellan’s side as they began walking. “Are you really alright, Amatus? You look worn out.”

“I’m fine,” Lavellan repeated. He forced a tired smile. “Just…long day.”

“You didn’t sleep yesterday, did you?” Dorian said with a sigh. “You told me you’d let Josephine handle those correspondences so you could rest.”

“And I did. Or, well, I let her handle some of them,” Lavellan said, a bit defensively. “I felt I should personally handle the majority of them.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Dorian announced. 

“So overdramatic,” Lavellan said, but it was fond.

“Hey, lovebirds, pipe down. Anyone else hear something?” Varric asked.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Cassandra said, looking to Dorian and Lavellan. The two men shrugged helplessly. 

“Maybe I just-” Varric started.

A bear launched out of the foliage and swung a giant paw, sending Lavellan flying and tearing a gash in Dorian’s arm. Cassandra and Varric scrambled to grab their weapons to draw its attention as it reared up on its hind legs, towering over Dorian and roaring.

“Nope, didn’t imagine it!” Varric said, shooting an arrow into the bear.

The bear roared again and spun, charging Varric. Cassandra slammed into its side to throw it off course.

Dorian ran for Lavellan, who was alarmingly slow to get back up on his own. He checked Lavellan, cursing as he realized Lavellan’s head was bleeding.

“Come on, up,” Dorian said, pulling him up. “How bad?”

“Just hurts,” Lavellan said, pressing a hand to the wound and wincing. “Your arm?”

“I’ll live.” He shifted Lavellan and got an arm around his shoulders to support him.

Lavellan grabbed his staff and cast a barrier of flames between the two of them and the bear, gesturing at Varric to sneak around to safety with them. As Varric began to circle around towards the barrier, Lavellan pulled away from Dorian.

“I’ve got to help her,” he said.

“You’re-” Dorian didn’t get past the first word as Lavellan shot him a silencing glare.

“I’m better off than you. Let Varric wrap your wound and then give me backup,” he said, creating an opening in his barrier just big enough to let him dart through.

Dorian cursed loudly as Varric reached him. “Help me wrap my wound before that absolute idiot is the death of himself.”

“Exactly my thoughts towards Hawke,” Varric said, digging through his bag as fast as he could to find something to stop the bleeding. “I keep getting mixed up with idiots with a hero complex.”

Dorian damn near had a heart attack as Lavellan got too close to the bear and it gave a harsh kick with his hind legs, throwing Lavellan back. But he got back to his feet, casting a spell at the bear to distract it from Cassandra.

Varric began wrapping his arm. Lavellan and Cassandra, despite their injuries, seemed to have the matter in hand. Still, Dorian despised not being able to help them.

He could’ve cried with relief when Lavellan set the bear aflame. It gave Cassandra a chance to rush in and drive her sword into its neck.

The bear, finally, fell dead to the ground. Lavellan and Cassandra collapsed on the ground, leaning against each other. Lavellan’s head was bleeding worse than before and Cassandra had a nasty cut on her leg and back, but they were alive.

“I hate you,” Dorian announced, dropping next to Lavellan and gently taking his cheek in palm to inspect the wound. “I’m going to be so furious with you if you give me gray hairs this young.”

“Blame the bears,” Lavellan said. 

“Let us return to camp and then get out of the Hinterlands as fast as possible,” Cassandra said, limping as she got to her feet. Lavellan shoved Dorian off of himself and gestured at him to help Cassandra instead. “I despise these beasts.”

“Let’s see if we can make it back to camp without any other attacks,” Lavellan said, slowly getting up.

“My money’s on a resounding ‘no’ for that,” Varric said, because they could hear something shifting in the foliage, probably drawn by all the noise.

“Time to go,” Dorian said hastily, helping Cassandra limp along, Lavellan staggering after them and Varric watching their backs.

Injured and still hunted, they hurried as fast as they could. Unspoken between them was the agreement to get the fuck out of the Hitnerlands first thing in the morning.

[merrybandofmurderers]

once again i forgot it was wednesday 😔 here's another snippet from the family visit part of my pavellan fic. follows last week's installment

Lavellan paused, hands resting on his hips. His expression turned to something fond, eyes soft. “Mahanon,” he said.

The young elf looked up; a wide smile bloomed on his face. “Yuo!” He jumped to his feet and launched himself into Lavellan’s arms. Dorian heard the breath knocked out of him, but Lavellan simply hugged the young elf close, pulling him off his feet and pressing kisses over his face.

Mahanon laughed, arms tight around Lavellan’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much. You don’t write enough!”

“That’s because I have to travel too much,” Lavellan said, giving his forehead a last kiss.

Mahanon leaned back, taking in his face properly. “Oh, you have new scars.”

Lavellan smirked. “I sure do. Here, let me introduce you.” He put Mahanon back on his feet.

Mahanon was only slightly taller than Anavi, with a willowy build. He looked up at Dorian with round, gray eyes. Delicate white tattoos decorated his face.

“Dorian, this is Mahanon, our First. Mahanon, Dorian.”

Mahanon nodded, hands clasped behind his back. “The Tevinter. You said.” His voice was soft and mellow. His expression did not give much away, but the tightness in his shoulders belied apprehension.

Dorian supposed he shouldn’t be surprised Lavellan had mentioned him to his clan; he wondered what Lavellan had shared. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dorian said, inclining his head. “I’ve heard a bit.”

Mahanon’s posture relaxed. “Yeah, Yuo doesn’t share much.” He looked at Lavellan askance, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Lavellan rolled his eyes and pulled him toward the door. “All right, come on. I sent for food and left Anavi alone with Varric.”

Mahanon’s ears perked. “Varric Tethras, right? I can’t believe he’s really part of the Inquisition.”

“I’ll introduce you to everyone after we’ve had a rest. You came a long way.”

“So have you, by the smell of it.”

Lavellan pulled at Mahanon’s ear. “That’s enough cheek, you.”

Dorian followed unobtrusively behind them. It was a little strange, seeing Lavellan so relaxed and open and playful. Strange but nice.

Anavi was indeed being regaled by Varric, her smile patronizingly indulgent. Food had been brought, and Cassandra had joined them, which Lavellan narrowed his eyes at, but he didn’t chase her off. Lavellan took a seat next to Anavi, putting Mahanon on his other side.

Dorian excused himself, which made Lavellan shoot a sharp look at him, but Dorian was desperate to get the grime of travel off. As he made his way to his room, he saw Josephine bustle out of her office and over to Lavellan and his guests.

When Dorian returned to the great hall, freshly bathed and changed, Cassandra had left, and Varric was diligently filling his notebook. Dorian took a seat halfway between the dwarf and the elves and helped himself to the food still set out.

Lavellan barely seemed to notice his return, too engrossed with his guests. Dorian didn’t begrudge him; these were perhaps the first guests Lavellan was happy to receive. Anavi sat back in her seat, sipping her drink, a pleased smile in place, while Mahanon gesticulated enthusiastically, jumping from one subject to the next. He seemed to be trying to tell Lavellan everything he had missed at once.

“—reminds me, I brought some things for you!” Mahanon picked up a bag from where it sat at his feet and began searching through its contents. “Ephraim and Danae are sorry they couldn’t come, but, you know, the clan can only spare so many—I had enough trouble convincing the Keeper to let me—oh, here’s that text you asked about.”

He passed over a worn looking tome. Lavellan thumbed carefully through the pages before setting it in his lap. Mahanon was already speaking again.

“—got letters here from pretty much everyone, since we were coming anyway, but Ephraim and Danae—where is… Ah, here we go. Ephraim made these for you.”

He handed Lavellan a small, cloth-wrapped bundle. Inside were three pieces of carved wood—earrings, Dorian realized. The two larger pieces were in the shape of spirals, the third smaller one, a half moon. The wood was dark, glossy, each piece decorated with delicate carved designs.

Lavellan quickly re-wrapped them and tucked the bundle in his tunic. Mahanon was unearthing the next parcel— “And Danae made this.” —which Lavellan unrolled to reveal a scarf.

“Danae hates weaving,” Lavellan mused, running his fingers over the threads. There were images woven into the cloth, though Dorian couldn’t decipher them where he sat.

“Yeah, Seina had to help her quite a bit, but she was determined. Everyone’s worried that you’re not getting proper Dalish supplies.”

Lavellan snorted, folding the scarf and placing it on top of the book. “We certainly didn’t, at first, but we’ve gotten some Dalish contacts since. It always feels lacking, though.”

Mahanon looked at him plaintively. “We miss you.”

Lavellan smiled and leaned over to press a kiss on Mahanon’s brow. “I know. I miss you, too.”

Dorian abruptly felt like he was intruding. He wondered if he ought to excuse himself, or if it would be better to simply leave. Varric had vanished at some point, possibly to the Rest.

Anavi put her hand on Lavellan’s shoulder. “We should retire, lethallen. It’s late, and you will need to wash before I let you into bed.”

Lavellan laughed. “Sure, sure.” He stood, tucking his book and scarf under his arm. “Dorian, I’ll find you tomorrow?”

“Oh, certainly. Sleep well.”

Lavellan smiled, his other arm settling around Mahanon’s shoulders. “I will.”

Dorian watched the three elves disappear through the door to Lavellan’s quarters.

tagging @mrs-theirin, @gaysolavellan, @calicostorms, @transfenris-truther, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas

[puffpasstea]

Matilda

Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1 here.

Harry was surprisingly easy to talk to. All my apprehension about going into an appointment unprepared had melted away as soon as we got into the rhythm of the conversation.

"I'm relatively new to all of this. 'researching for a character,' I mean. and acting, in general." He smiled meekly and leaned in a bit closer to me as he spoke, as if confessing a secret.

"Right. That's why you're signed with Marvel" I said unselfconsciously but immediately tried to walk it back, "I mean, that's what I've heard... I don't know."

He shook his head and chuckled. I watched his chest rise and fall and wondered how even his laugh could put me at ease.

"What I meant to say was that I could use all the help that I can get here. My last English class was at 16, so, it's not exactly all fresh in my mind."

"Well, why don't I take a look at the literary references that your character is making in the script and we can pull some materials from there?" I asked flipping through my notepad, looking for nothing in particular.

"Not sure about that." He leaned against the wall as he spoke. "I mean I'm not sure I'm allowed to share the script."

"Oh, yes, of course..." I felt my face turn red with embarrassment.

As if reading my mind, Harry spoke again, "Not that you're not a completely trustworthy stranger"

I laughed.

" Seriously, it's a great idea though! I'll just have to make sure I can show you everything first."

"In the meantime, maybe tell me about your favorite books and authors? Maybe I can give you some recommendations, or ways to incorporate them into your prep?"

His grin was wide and toothy. "okay, yes. Favorite authors? hmmm..." He gazed into the distance trying to recollect some names and titles.

"Emerson?"

I nodded. "Solid start, okay, what else?"

"Murakami-"

"hmm..."

"What's wrong with Murakami? Oh and Bukowski!"

His eyes widened at the hissing sound that I made in response.

"What? He's VERY expressive."

"And sexist."

"I like to think he's self-consciously making fun of typical masculine thinking by portraying it that way...."

"That's very sweet of you, Harry. Don't worry I won't hold it against you."

"Okay, fine, who are your favorites?"

"Oh, man. name a genre, or time period. Just overall? Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde, Charlotte Bronte. I specialized in Shakespeare for a while. But-"

Turning to look at him, his smile and piercing green eyes caught me off-guard.

"wow, you're, like, a proper Matilda."

"Like from Roald Dahl you mean? well, no. I mean, I get paid to do this."

"And soon I'll be getting paid to pretend to do this." he smiled sheepishly.

As we walked past the bookshelves on our way back out, Harry slowed down and turned towards the "W" stacks, stopping there to browse.

"Can I help you find something?" I offered.

"Think I've got it," he reached to one of the top shelves to grab Oscar Wilde's The Picture Of Dorian Gray. In an effort to be helpful, and "do my job" I stood on my tiptoes attempting to reach upward and get it for him, but, since I'm significantly shorter than he is, I only stumbled and got in his way.

"I'm so sorry!" I gasped as my back bumped into his chest. The scent of his cologne as intoxicating as the feeling of his breath on the back of my neck. I could feel my heartbeat through my entire body.

"It's okay. You're alright?" He placed a hand on my shoulder to help steady me.

" I'm okay. Just short." I quickly scrambled out of his way, letting him get the book.

At the front desk, Harry and Fran made small talk while I attempted to scan the book out for him, talking twice as long with our entire interaction --complete with me almost knocking us both down-- replayed in my mind, causing me to misspell the book details repeatedly.

"It's all yours for the next 60 days." I slid the book across the table towards him.

"I'll let you know how I like it. And about sharing the script if possible!"

Harry was barely out the door before Fran had turned to me and said "so? he's handsome. tell me everything."

***

As the next three days went by, I found myself wondering, in spite of my attempts not to, if Harry would come in soon. Glancing at the door every time anybody walked into the library, wondering if Harry was enjoying Oscar Wilde, wondering if he'd share the details of his film-in-progress one day...it all felt childish. However, it also felt like a refreshing change from the usually thought spirals that ordinarily occupied my mind.

I'd moved out here for this job shortly before the nearly two-year global health hazard hit the world. Libraries, thanks to ebook access, and inter-library loan programs, were among the first to go online. Now that everything's back to normal, I find my social life non-existent. I have yet to get a chance to meet anybody or go anywhere which often makes me wonder if moving out here on my own was the right decision, if there's something wrong with me that makes me unapproachable or unfit for socialization. But every time my phone buzzes with a notification from my parents, I'm reminded that my isolated existence is still better than being around a family that makes me feel alone when I'm around them. What if I'm wrong though? What if I need to be more forgiving?

on the morning of the fourth day, unable to sleep and haunted by doubts about how I've chosen to live my life, I walked into work earlier than I needed to be there only to find Harry and Fran sharing breakfast and laughing loudly.

Harry had grabbed a chair and was sitting on the opposite end of the front desk with his back to the door. Luckily, he couldn't see the startled look on my face, nor could he see me smile and fix my hair using my reflection in the glass doors before I'd approached him.

"Matilda! You're here!" He smiled and reached over to the improvised breakfast buffet that he and Fran had set up to grab me a cup of coffee.

"Matilda?" Fran asked.

"It's a thing." Harry responded nonchalantly before turning back to me and asking "cream? sugar?"

"uhh, no, just black thanks...what's all this?" I gestured towards the food.

"Harry brought breakfast." Fran said, handing me a bagel. "You should eat. She never eats, you know."

I frowned and watched as Harry grabbed me a chair. " Here, sit. And do eat please. You're gonna need your strength. We have a lot of work to do." He leaned over and produced a stack of papers from his backpack.

I smiled at his use of "we."

"So, you're cleared to read the script" he patted the stack of pages before handing them to me. "But," he placed a folder on top of the script, "not before you sign some paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"It just says that you promise not to disclose the details of the script or filming process to any media outlets, and that if you do, the production company has the right to sue you for all you're worth. That sort of thing."

"Ah. Standard stuff. It's not like I'll know much about filming anyway..." I said reaching for a pen from behind the counter to put my signature to these forms.

"well, that brings me to the next thing. How'd you like to work with us?"

"who's us?"

"Well, me. And the set designers. Tell us what sorts of books we should have in the background of certain scenes, at each character's home, that sort of thing. Would you be interested?"

[azeretha]

pov: You are Fenrys's mate. 

Word count: 861

Every year there was a celebration of victory over Maeve and Erawan. Laughter, joy and light spread everywhere. Everyone across the continent was looking forward to something that had been missing for a long time. A better world. You sat on the ledge of the window and looked at your friend. Laughed. Honestly. After the years of suffering and darkness that attracted him, and the tears you cried together, he finally laughed with those sparks in his eyes. Your mate. Beautiful, strong, brave and wise, even though everyone thinks he's just a beautiful face.

You drank from the whiskey you took with you as a friend to make your time more enjoyable. You looked around you again. The Lorcans and Elidine's children ran around the hall. Two older boys and a younger girl who looked more like her father, as if she were willing to admit Elide. Manon was talking to Dorian in the corner of the room. Interesting that the chemistry that was between them during the war still did not disappear. And it was also clear to everyone that the little witch who would be born one day would be a fear of the world.

Lysandra, Aelin, Elide and Evangeline laughed at something and danced at the same time. You couldn't help but notice the boys spinning behind Evangeline. But Aedion always growled at them, and the young men always bowed their heads. Maybe one day, someone who does not bow their head will come and growl back. I would look at that.

You wanted to look at your beloved mate again, but he wasn't where he was. Only Rowan and Lorcan stood where he stood a few minutes ago, talking about something.

"What mischief are you thinking about?"

You just rolled your eyes when you saw Fenrys move you like a rag doll, so he could sit behind you. He rested his head on your shoulder and tilted his head so that you could only see his stupidly beautiful face. So you turn your head the other way to the window. "I'm thinking about what someone needs to make such a tasty whiskey."

"Really?" You can feel him breathing down your neck. He is very close to that damn neck.

"Hmm." It is so beautiful outside.

The idiot kissed your collarbone. "And what have you come up with, my love?" You want to stab him. An ass.

"Well ..." You won't have time to say anything because you feel like someone's pulling your clothes. You push Fenrys's head back and look at the wrecker.

In front of both of you is a small image of Lorcan. And she frowns as only Lorcan can and looks at Fenrys. "Dad and Uncle Ro tell you to go with your tools somewhere private. I have no idea what that means, but they said they would give me a cake for breakfast tomorrow if I came to say it. " And with that, little Lochan left. You looked in their direction, and they looked at you again, grinning from ear to ear. You rolled your eyes and looked at Fenrys. You thought he would look badly at those two bastards, but he was just looking at you. With such love and desire that it could destroy one ordinary individual. But he was not ordinary. It was Fenrys Moonbeam. Your mate. And so you opened the bridge that bound you. The bridge that sometimes stopped your heart from the feelings you felt across it. Thanks to whom you were connected with the best fae under the Sun.

"That little Lorcan will put the whole army in parade one day."

"I bet 10 coins, everyone will be afraid to ask for her hand." He told you back, still looking into your eyes. He crouched the fabric on the sides of your dress and leaned closer to you.

You covered his hand with one hand. "I bet 20 coins, she will be the nature of her mother and charm the strongest of them." That was your game. Betting. It was about winning. Even though it always ended more fiery, no matter who waited.

A smirk appeared on Fenrys's face. Those beautiful sinful lips. How many sins have you done with those lips? Still not enough.

"I bet 30 coins that ..." You didn't care what he wanted to say. You just kissed him. You didn't care who was watching. Let them think what they want. That was your specialty. Shit on what others think. And Fenrys didn't care either. The kiss returned to you with passion as always. You literally fought for who would win. Neither of you was able to lose, and neither of you ever backed off from the challenge.

However, breathing is important.

"Damn oxygen." You murmured on his lips as you pulled away and looked him in the eye. His pupils were dilated. "Shall we disappear until the small form of Lorcan reappears?"

"I've heard that the walls in this castle are especially favorable." He took whysky out of your hand and drank it for you. Then he took your hand and pulled you out of the room until you found the right wall.

[yeonzzzn]

anything & everything: psh

a break the chain series: four / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 1.7k

synopsis: you and sunghoon enjoy some much needed alone time outside the castle while you doubt your magic abilities.

genre: established relationship, vampire!sunghoon, witch!reader

warnings: some swearing, hoonie being cute, reader has long hair and facial piercings.

prt 1: vampires bleeding | prt 2: you complete me

☾ heeseung(1) | jake(2) | jungwon(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | jay(7) ☽

“What are you doing, hex girl?” 

You sigh, whipping your head around to face your mate, your long braided hair falling from over your shoulder to your back, “What does it look like I am doing, bloodsucker?” 

Sunghoon smirked, tilting his head to the side, “Looks like you’re playing with your magic toys.” 

You roll your eyes and face back in the other direction, “Cannot believe I am bonded to you for life.” 

Sunghoon now knelt behind you, his arms wrapping around you over your biceps and chest, his chest pressed tightly to your back and he squeezed you. 

You couldn’t fight the small that was now on your lips. Even when this vampire annoys the shit out of you, you love him dearly and you wouldn’t pick a different person to be mated with.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, “You going to tell me what you are doing outside in this field alone?” Sunghoon stretched out his legs at your sides, shifting his arms to wrap around your waist, leaning his chin on your left shoulder, eyeing your magic items in front of you. 

You leaned back into him, “Jake asked me and __ to see if we couldn’t find something to prolong his mate's and Archer’s life.” 

Sunghoon nodded, completely understanding where his best friend was coming from. Sunghoon was grateful his mate had magical abilities to help give them forever and it sucked that Jake had to deal with the stress of finding more time for her. 

“How is it going?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “It’s going. That’s for sure.” 

“Difficult?” Sunghoon was worried, not just for his best friend but also for his mate and her sibling. Archer might not be officially in the pack, but he’s family nevertheless. 

You shrug again, “Not so much as difficult, there’s multiple different spells that could be used, it’s just a matter of finding the right one. Which I was in the middle of doing before you interrupted.” 

Sunghoon nuzzled his nose in your neck, “You love me, deal with it,” he pressed a few kisses to your neck, “I couldn’t find you in the castle, so I followed your scent out here.” 

You turned your face towards him, lifted your hand to his jaw, and pulled him into a kiss, “Missed me that much?” 

Sunghoon chucked against your lips, giving you a couple more kisses before dropping his face back to your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, “Always miss you when you aren’t at my side.” 

Which was true. Sunghoon will never forget the pain and emptiness he felt when Dorian took you away from him. The two of you were still freshly mated and weren’t given that time together. He never wanted to feel that pain again and would always freak out if you weren’t in eye shot. 

Sunghoon pushed the thought aside, looking back down at the magical items in front of you. Your book of spells and journal sat open with notes scribbled all over the pages. A few herbs and flowers to your left and crystals to the right. Sunghoon squinted at the crystals, fixated on a yellow one that looked as if it were filled with electricity. 

“Is that…?” he whispered, reaching over and picking up the crystal, a shock was sent to his fingertips, quickly dropped it back to the grass, “What the fuck?!” 

“Hey!” you snapped, quickly picking up the crystal and examining it, “Don’t break this!” you let out an exhale, thankful the crystal was unharmed. 

“It shocked me!” Sunghoon snarled, wrapping his arm back around your waist. 

“Such a baby,” you teased. 

“How come it’s not shocking you?” 

“Because my magic is covering it, therefore I can touch it, obviously,” Sunghoon pinched your side, calling you a brat, “But it’s filled with __’s electricity.” 

Sunghoon sighed, “Is it because of her episodes?” 

You nodded, setting the crystal back to the grass, “Jungwon asked me for help, so I’ve been out here trying to find a way to help her too.” 

After Jungwon’s mate was on the verge of death and came back with her newfound gift, she’s been having random spurts of energy and sending out shock waves without being able to control it. Nearly electrocuted poor Wonnie in his sleep the other night. Before that she was accidentally shooting out sparks and set fire to the training room, scaring Sunghoon to death since he was standing right beside her. 

Heeseung, Jay, and Jungwon came up to you the night after the final episode, asking for a way to conceal her power a bit, just until she can learn to control the small bit she has now. You accepted, obviously. Anything and everything to help out the pack. The poor girl felt terrible for the problems she had caused, but it was not her fault. She was blessed with an enormous amount of power. Heeseung and Jay kept doing checkups on her daily to make sure she was feeling okay with half her power being taken. 

You thought this crystal would do the trick on containing it, and so far it’s held up. It’s easily breakable, just in case some bat-shit crazy things happen and she needs that power. Thankfully, nothing has happened yet and she’s doing fantastic at her training. It still must have been such a shock (lol) to her and Jungwon to see she was given a gift. It doesn’t happen often with vampires who were made. 

Sunghoon leaned his head against yours, pulling you as close as possible to his chest, “I’m proud of you for how much you’ve been helping out everyone.” 

You looked up at him, “Of course! This pack has been nothing but kind to me since the beginning. I’d do anything and everything for you thirteen.” 

Sunghoon smiled at you. The summer wind picked up, blowing both of your hair in all directions. Sunghoon closed his eyes and lifted his chin up, enjoying the summer sun and wind against his skin, “After everything you’ve been through, BECAUSE of us, I am still forever grateful you popped into my small world when you did.” 

You sigh, leaning forward and gathering up your things, “I just hope my magic is enough.” 

Sunghoon looks back down at you with concern, quickly standing up and now kneeling in front of you, both hands cupping your face, “YN, what does that mean?” 

You stared into his coca eyes, “What if my magic isn’t enough? What if I can’t help make __ and Archer live forever and Jake loses her? What if I can’t help __ with her new power? What if I can’t help any of you…” 

Sunghoon could see where your brain was headed. You were scared to lose the pack like how you lost your coven. Sunghoon wished he could take that pain away from you, but unfortunately, he’s just a vampire, so he has to use his words. 

“Stop thinking that way,” he whispered, tracing his thumb over the scar covering your left eye, pulling your head down to kiss where the scar reaches up your forehead, brushing his fingers over your eyebrow piercing and down to your jaw then neck, “You’re more than enough, always were and always would be,” he lifted your face back up, brushing his nose over yours, “This whole pack adores you, and you’ve already done so much to protect us all, don’t get caught up in your head, we will protect you just as much as you will protect us. They love you, I love you.” 

Tears filled your eyes as you pulled him to you, embracing his lips against yours, “I love you too, so very much.”

Sunghoon pushed you backward onto the grass, gently laying his body on top of yours and kissing you more with a massive smile on his face. Sometimes Sunghoon sits and wonders why he hated you at first, mostly when he had no reason to. Maybe it was the stress and frustration of having to move out of the city, to be on the run. Vampires and witches don’t get along, but you fit in perfectly fine. You fit into his heart like the perfect puzzle piece. You belong here with him. You made living forever bearable and so worth it. 

Sunghoon finally released your lips from his, brushing your bangs out of your face, “Just think once this is all over and Lilly is dealt with, we can go back to our cabin.” 

You smiled up at him, “I can’t wait.” 

Sunghoon leaned down to kiss you again, but quickly stopped, his eyes focused. 

You furrow your brows, “Hoon?” 

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, he clearly was hearing something that you couldn’t, “Something is wro—“ 

An explosion on the other side of the castle, sirens now blaring across the grounds. 

“WHERE IS EVERYONE?! ARE YOU ALL OKAY!?” Heeseung screamed down the pack bond, “ANSWER ME!!!” 

One by one the pack members talked at once down the bond, a sure enough sign that all chaos just broke out. 

Sunghoon pulled you and him up using his vampire speed, “They need us,” he said, quickly scooping up your magic items and placing them in the bag you brought, slinging it over your shoulder, “Heeseung needs you to tend to the injured.” 

You gripped his hands, “Where are you going to go?” 

Sunghoon gripped your hands back, “I’m meeting the guys where the explosion happened.”

He let go of your hands, ready to take off, “SUNGHOON!” you called after him, he stopped and turned to look at you. 

“Please be careful, I can’t lose you.” 

He smiles, “You won’t. You’re stuck with me, hex girl.” 

Then he was gone in a flash. You quickly ran up to the castle, seeing Sunoo’s mate already waiting for you at the door, quickly waving you in. 

You took a deep breath in, reminding yourself once this war was over you and your mate could return to the cabin. You thought back to your first winter together, watching him ice skate on your frozen pond, smiling to yourself at the memory, praying to be able to see it soon. 

You followed the elf down the hall, the smells of fires, burnt skin and screams filled the castle. The memories of when Dorian set your town and coven up in flames came flushing back. You clenched your shirt, trying to steady out your breathing. 

You could do this. You have a family to protect. They need you. You need them. 

With a shake of your head, you push the bad memories out, “I won’t let anyone suffer,” you grumble, “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe. Anything and everything.”

���perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki

—tags: @jwnghyuns @en-happiness @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @honeybunnee @jaklvbub

[dancingwiththefae]

could you write 1 and 27 from this pls? you choose the pairing 💚

Hey! Sorry about the wait. I've given myself so much to do but I'm slowly making my way through it all now. I went for Yennskier for this, hope you don't mind.

1.“you think it’s cute when i’m mad? great, because i’m about to become real fucking adorable.” & 27. “there’s no reason why your awful attempts at flirting should be giving me butterflies, but here we are.”

CW: None

wc: 1.3k

-----------------------------------------

Jaskier had been acting strange. They ran into each other just outside Dorian a few days ago. He was performing when she arrived. Everyone was in high spirits, dancing and singing along, encouraged by an equally high-spirited Jaskier. She decided the sit back and watch. She could inquire about a room afterwards. She stuck to the far wall, not wanting to be pulled into the frenzy the bard had created. She leaned back and watched with folded arms – she didn’t want him to know she actually enjoyed his music.

It was when he stopped for a break that he spotted her. He bounded towards her with all the energy of an overexcited puppy.

“Yennefer!” He announced, loud enough for a few people to turn quizzically towards her. She did not appreciate the attention. “Where did you come from? Never mind uh- are you staying here? I have a room here already. Hey! You can share with me! Unless you already have a room-“

She put down his excited ramblings to the high of performance. He was always just a little bit more insufferable after performing for a lively crowd. But she was tired, and a bed was a bed. She held her hand out for the key.

She woke up in the night to a thud.

“Ow- fuck.”

She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and sighed.

“Jaskier,” she whispered harshly, “are you drunk?”

“No,” retorted as he tripped over his own feet, “I don’t think so. Maybe?”

“For fuck sake.” She pulled back the covers. “Just get in and be quiet.”

He stumbled towards the bed and flopped down. He hadn’t even taken his boots off. She threw the covers over him and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. It was funny, he didn’t smell of alcohol. But there was something familiar. She put it to the back of her mind and went back to sleep.

Jaskier was still asleep when she got up in the morning. She could wake him, she supposed. But she decided to be kind and let him sleep off his impending hangover and went about with her day. When she came back later, she sensed something was wrong. Jaskier was sat on the bed, still in yesterdays clothes, looking down at the floor. He hadn’t heard her come in.

“Jaskier,” she called. His head shot up at the sound of his name. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on her.

“My boots.”

She had no idea where this was going.

“What about your boots?” she asked.

“Can’t remember how to get them off…” he trailed off as he knocked one foot against the other absently. That was worrying. And then she realised. That strange scent in the air. It wasn’t alcohol. It was magic. She marched up to him and stopped directly in front of him, snapping her fingers in his face to get his attention. His eyes widened as he looked up at her.

“You are so beautiful,” he said with what the sorceress could only describe as awe. She chose to ignore it, instead spreading her hand out above him to look for the cause. Just as she suspected, it was a curse. And it was slowly eroding his mind. She sighed internally. Only Jaskier could get himself into this mess. Who knows how long he’d been like this before she found him. How long he’d been stumbling around in confusion. It pulled at something in her heart. She tried her best to push it down. There was no point in getting sentimental now.

“Jaskier, I need you to listen to me.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You’ve been cursed. I can take it away but I need you to keep still for me, okay?”

He gave a slow nod.

“Anything for you.”

Yennefer would be glad to see the end of this already. The things he was saying were making her feel strange. She didn’t like it. Shaking herself mentally, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt her chaos swirl within her. Focusing, she harnessed her grip on it, directing it to where it needed to be. And then Jaskier snickered and she lost it.

“What.”

“Nothing, just-“ he shook his head in an exaggerated motion, “continue.”

She closed her eyes and tried again. Jaskier flopped down on the bed with a groan.

“I’m tired Yennefer. Come to bed with me.”

“Jaskier! I am trying to help you but I cannot do anything unless you cooperate. So you need to hold still because this curse is eating you from the inside out!” She stomped her foot. She wasn’t proud of it, acting like a child who wasn’t getting their own way. But nothing was getting through to him and she was losing her cool.

“Oh,” Jaskier sat up and looked at her with wide eyes, “that doesn’t sound very good.”

“No,” she huffed, “it’s not.”

Thankfully, something seemed to register because Jaskier finally stayed still long enough for her to place her hands on either side of his head. And then the bard laughed. She groaned in frustration and tried her best to ignore it.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Jaskier giggled.

Yennefer had just about reached her limit.

“You think it’s cute when I’m mad? Great, because I’m about to become real fucking adorable,” she threatened as he squirmed out of her grasp.

“You know,” he pointed a finger at her, “there’s no reason why your awful attempts at flirting should be giving me butterflies, but here we are.”

“I’m not flirting with you, bard.”

“Sure,” he said in a way that meant he didn’t believe her at all. She sighed, placing her hands either side of his head once again to keep him still.

“Look,” she pleaded, “let me just fix this now and then we can flirt later”

Jaskier’s brow shot up in surprise. It was quickly replaced by a look of absolute delight.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he promised.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, “now let me work before your brain leaks out of your ears.”

Finally, he held still. The promise of flirting seemed to do the trick. She should have tried this from the start. Even in his right mind, Jaskier would fall to his knees for a pretty face. She pushed into his mind. Slowly, cautiously. The mind was delicate, any slip up could cause irreversible damage. Eventually, she found it. The source of the curse. Like a hook, she gripped it, prying it free. She tugged and tugged until eventually the line snapped and it was released.

She pulled away from him and sat down on the chair opposite him, feeling drained. She watched as his face morphed from confusion to clarity to embarrassment. He ran a hand over his face, cringing at all that had just occurred. She felt a little bad for him. It wasn’t his fault the curse made him say those things.

“It made you say things you didn’t mean,” she reasoned, “that’s fine.”

“No that’s not what I-“ he cut himself off, letting out a noise of frustration. “I kept those sorts of thoughts to myself because I knew they weren’t wanted. And because of that- that- thing, I subjected you to them. I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“So you’re telling me that you think I’m…beautiful” she mocked, only to diffuse the attention.

“Yes,” he laughed without humour, “always have.”

“You never let on?”

“Believe it or not I do have a filter,” he sighed.

“Could have fooled me,” she said flatly. Silently, she got up and moved to sit beside him on the bed. He watched her warily as she reached out to place her hand on his knee.

“So what did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?” She gave him a flat look. “Well, it was more what I didn’t do I suppose. I rejected a witch at court about a week ago. She seemed to have taken offence. Beautiful woman but… I think one terrifying sorceress is enough.”

[saphirered]

Hi! I'm dying for some Prince Dorian stuff. Could you write a princeling Dorian x reader before he leaves on his adventures. They love each other but they're not allowed to be together so when he leaves he asks his them to go with but they can't. Bonus points if they meet up later down the road, S/O left to find him. Please and thank you.

Hope this one turned out to your liking! And I did go for those bonus points 😉. Happy reading! 😘

A gentle morning breeze and warm sunlight bleeding through fabric ease you back to consciousness. You shift and adjust, your legs weighed down by someone else’s, tangled. With a groan you roll your shoulders and place a hand under your pillow to get a little more comfortable. Tempted to allow yourself to slip back into the darkness of sleep, you decide against it, feeling fingers brush lightly over the bare skin of your arm, and the sensation of being watched.

“You’re staring.” Your voice is still heavy with sleep as you crack an eye open to wake up to a sight you’ve gotten so used to.

“Good morning.” You expect a voice heavy with sleep like yours but the words sound like someone who’s been awake for a while. Awake and burdened. So you rub your eyes and raise up a little, to get into the same half slanted position your lover’s in. The blanket falling from your torso leaves you longing for warmth so you do what you’d always do; wrap your arms closer around the second son of the Silken Squall and bask in the warmth he provides. The embrace is returned and his hold is a little tighter than usual, a kiss to your temple but lips lingering longer than usual.

“What did Cyrus do to piss you off and get you in a mood this time, princeling?” You smile, earning a playful pinch in your side, making you gasp and squirm. You know he dislikes the nickname but you’ll keep calling him so anyway. You’re the only one he tolerates it from and if anything, when you say it, it’s endearing.

“Something’s been on my mind for a while now and I can’t seem to shake it. No need to worry. I’ll figure it out. For now I’m just happy you’re here with me.”

“Then why do I feel there’s more meaning to those words.” You pull your head from his chest to look at him proper, place your hand on his cheek to direct his gaze to your face instead of into the nothingness. Brontë takes a deep sigh and offers you a half smile.

“Talk to me? Please? Don’t let your burdens weigh you down. Not if I can help it.” A few strands of hair, out of place you brush back while you trace the contour of his jaw resting on his chin and leaning up to kiss his lips. Worry eases away as you move to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull away. Like the lover he is Brontë gently dances his fingers up and down your spine as his other hand caresses your cheek.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been experiencing a bit of wanderlust. That is all.” Brontë admits and you fake gasp.

“You, son of the Silken Squall, potentially in line for the throne? Wanderlust? What would your parents say?!” You earn another squeeze of your side making you squeal but his hands keep you in place.

“I’m sick of walking in Cyrus’ shadow. I’m sick of being remembered only as the second son, forgotten, ignored unless it is to be scolded or told how much of a disappointment I am. I want to be my own person. But I’ll never be anything else if I stay here, will I? The thought of wandering the world for a little bit, if not forever, has been on my mind for the past few weeks and the concept is looking more and more tempting.” He admits as your features soften, the humour gone and instead you just give him a sad smile. You agree with Brontë; ignored only until suspected of something that his parents disapprove of and punished for it. It’s how he’s been slipping through the cracks in the first place. That’s how even after his family told him you and him could never be he still was able to sneak out and come and see you.

“Why not leave then?” Confusion runs across his face.

“Are you so eager to be rid of me?” Brontë jokes.

“Of course not, you fool. I love you. But you are right. Our people are not meant to be contained to the same place forever. Wanderlust dwells within our hearts. Staying in one place, it can get suffocating. If you feel this is what you need, how could I not support your decision?” You don’t get a reply, at least not a verbal one. His lips meet yours in a deep passionate kiss. Brontë doesn’t know what he must have done to have you walk into his life but you’ve been a true blessing, even before you became lovers. He can never repay you for that. Not while he remains in the Silken Squall. His parents will never approve and he’ll never be allowed to openly take you as his partner, no matter what he does. But perhaps if he just left, you could both be free of all of your burdens.

“But I can’t just up and leave. What will I need? What will I do? Where will I go?” The worries and insecurities kick in as his mind wanders trying to find all the answers.

“There’s adventure in the unknown. Embrace it, my dear Dorian.” You speak in the voice pretending to be an old soothsayer, your eyes narrowing, lips puckering and cheeks hollowed. Brontë laughs at your impression before you break.

“I highly doubt I can live up to the Dorian of the Tempest in your stories. I’m not an adventurer and I think it’s quite impossible to actually fly on a living storm.” He counters.

“I’m a storyteller, I know what it takes for someone to be the stuff of adventurers and heroes.” You poke at his chest, faking offence. Storytelling is a pastime that allows you some extra coin to be made wherever the Silken Squall settles, and allowed you to pick up on new stories from other peoples, places and cultures. Knowing you take great pleasure in doing so Brontë always listens to those stories with happy content, as you spin the tales into existence.

“Join me. You can tell me if I have what it takes to be a hero.” Your smile turns to a saddened one, as you brush your fingers through his hair. The pained expression in your eyes shows him enough. He knew he was a fool for asking but he had to. Just like him you have expectations you have to live up to but unlike him, people rely on you fulfilling those expectations for their livelihoods. You might wish to be free, you simply can’t. Perhaps you could in time, but if Brontë has any desires to leave behind the Silken Squall, he’ll have to do it before his parents figure out what he’s up to and lock him up for good. The only solace he can take is that when he’s free, you’ll meet again without him having to sneak into your home without anyone noticing or vice versa. You won’t have to pretend to have broken things off because his parents do not approve. You’ll both be free to love.

“I want to. More than anything. But you know I can’t.” You sigh but manage to brighten your smile once more. “I’ll just have to wait for my Dorian to summon me a storm and call me home.” You cup his cheeks giving him a soft kiss.

“A promise then; to be your Dorian and summon you a storm.”

“A promise it is.” You accept and more kisses follow. Never had you truly felt the pressure of your relationship as it is coming to an end. You’ll still love each other but come nightfall, your Dorian will be gone, to chase the clouds and let the winds guide him. You’ll watch out for him, knowing he’ll face many troubles, make friends, find adventures and allow himself to find what he’s looking for. He’ll return one day and you’ll be waiting for that storm to arrive and bring him home to you, summon you to the planes so you might reunite once more. Until then you’ll sing the songs and tell the stories of Dorian of the Tempest. You’ll carry the story of Dorian Storm and the adventures he’ll encounter. You’ll tell the tales of a hero, a friend, and a lover.

—————

Let it be known that Cyrus Wyvernwind is a terrible, horrible spy and criminal. His twenty thousand gold bounty is undoubted proof of that and you do not want to go into detail how many times you’ve shouted at him, berated him and called him every name in the book for how bloody stupid he is getting in this kind of trouble. You’d told him to look for a job, make some coin. Told him all he needed to do and watch out for and he’d ignored each and every single one of your warnings. He’s lucky you’re quick to make friends and he’s got some useful skills as long as they do not involve decision making or thinking. Charming a Corsair or several worked in your favour and left you with enough security and coin and the unsavoury actions were far and few.

The glorious hero lifestyle is an image you knew to be a story. You’re a storyteller. You know when the tales told are spun on over-exaggerated rumours, hearsay, boastful drunkards and the likes. Jrusar certainly was something else. A whole new world of ruggedness and hardships. Lucky for you, you’d gotten plenty of those stories too and knew how to handle them. At least whenever the Silken Squall touched down near a village, town or even city you did wander and had some idea of the real world out there but the Wyvernwind heir is a whole new breed of oblivious. And he paid for it, which by extend meant you paid for it. He dragged you into this mess and most certainly did not have the capabilities to get you out.

You’ll have to give Cyrus some credit through, because he managed not to miss the fact his brother walked into the hideout of the Corsairs when he was enjoying his breakfast. You’d have paid good money to be there and watch that go down but you were out on some errands and missed the whole thing. Of course Cyrus couldn’t let things rest and snuck off to chase them. He spoke to his brother but the conversation did not exactly go well. Second time he went you caught him and followed. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you, you hate to admit. It’s good to see Brontë’s made friends. Heroes come in merry bands and while this one is still a little shaky, it’s got potential.

Nevertheless, you watched them spot Cyrus, follow him and confront him. You heard the majority of the conversation from your own dark corner in the Spire by Fire. You felt it best to not interfere and just let things be. Best not to get involved and make things more complicated. You heard he calls himself Dorian now. Dorian Storm. It warms your heart and makes you yearn for the life you both left behind at the Silken Squall, despite it’s many flaws. When all went their separate ways, Cyrus back to the Corsairs, the others off to bed, you just couldn’t help yourself. You made sure Cyrus didn’t get caught before you trailed back to the tavern. Outside on the rooftops you’d whistle, a tune from your stories, a melody only you and those who cared enough to remember the details of your stories could recall, stories that Brontë-no Dorian had listened to a thousand times over and written songs and melodies to accompany you with. He’d know. If he were listening he’d know.

About to crash for the night Dorian throws himself onto his bed, mind still wandering and processing the meeting with his brother, the surprises of the night, and his friends, new and older being faced with his idiot of a sibling, being cornered into revealing certain things he’d rather not bring up… ever. But here he is sitting on the edge of his bed thinking back to the life he left behind, the things he’s happy to forget, and abandon, and the ones less forgetful, things he yearns to hold once more. He can imagine your voice, picture your smile if he closes his eyes. He had to assure the others he’s fine and just needs a moment but will sleep soon. They take his word for it. He’s too caught up in his mind to even notice the snores of the others, or the fact the light has dimmed. He’s too in his own mind to be aware of his surroundings as he replays you telling one of your grand stories, people hanging onto your every word, that whistle, a secret sign the lost lovers use to find each other ringing in his mind…. That’s quite realistic… Too realistic…

You repeat the tune a few more times before you’re about to give in and let it be. He’s probably asleep. They did look quite worse for wear. You can come back later, perhaps even approach if you find the courage. You’ll stick in the shadows for now. Or so you think until you hear the calling of your name. Looking over the edge you see where it came from, the voice familiar to you it makes your heart skip a beat. You let yourself drop down, swinging off a balcony onto the solid stone. Your breath catches as you lower your hood, your face revealed and see your lover. His response is the same, your name a whisper upon his breath when he realises it’s truly you.

Dorian wants to ask many questions but all thought escapes him when your eyes meet his. His feet carry him over to you, like a gentle breeze in his back guiding him closer as you meet him half way. He cups your cheeks. This might just be a fever dream induced by the aftermath of the fight earlier but the moment he feels your skin beneath his palms, the flush of your cheeks rising as you bring up one of your own hands to cover his and smile, he knows it’s real. He knows you’re really there. It doesn’t matter how or why, not right now anyway. He leans in slowly, asking for permission but you grant it by closing the distance yourself and pulling him into a long awaited kiss. Losing track of time you do not pull apart until you’re breathless, but remain in each other’s embrace not willing to part.

“Hello, princeling.” You smile pecking his lips, brushing aside a few strands of hair.

“You’re here.” Dorian breathes still not quite believing this is real.

“I’m here.”

“How?” He laughs, unable to form a proper question, or ask you anything else. He’s just happy you’re here with him, however long it might last, but hopefully forever. He’ll take this moment and savour it regardless.

“Because your brother is an idiot and dragged me into his mess.” Of course he is. Of course his brother is an idiot but for once he’s done the right thing because it’s gotten you back to him and Dorian would move heaven and earth to keep you here now you’re away from the Silken Squall. He’s got plenty of tales to tell, plenty of inspiration for your next stories.

“Then I might just have to thank him for messing up good this time.” You’ll have to admit, you might have lost the majority of grudges held against the airhead that got you in this trouble in the first place.

“So Dorian, huh.” Your grin couldn’t be smugger. One of his hands moves down to your side and pinches it lightly, and just as any time he’s done so before you jump and squeal, pulling yourself even closer to him. This time you use the excuse to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Dorian Storm.” You laugh. The name of not just an entertainer, or a stage name but the name of a hero.

“You’ll always be a princeling to me.” Once more you close the distance, lips moving against each other, in a passionate kiss. You have some time to make up for and intend on doing so. For now you’ve found each other again. Summoned home by a storm. All is as it should be. The breeze has guided you home, to your Dorian, to your princeling.

[typewrittenluck]

as the seasons change

C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au

Word Count: 9.1k

Pronouns: they/them

A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)

Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)

Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood

SUMMER------------

The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.

A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.

“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage. 

“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.

His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.

“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”

Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”

Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.

There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”

His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.

Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”

“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”

“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”

“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”

Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.

“How do you wear that in the Summer?”

“It’s n- TOMMY!!” 

Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically. 

---

A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.

The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver. 

“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence. 

Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself). 

Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,

“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”

And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat. 

The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather. 

“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.

Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.

The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag. 

Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.

Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.

Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.

From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-

Shit

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.

“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.

So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle. 

“What are you reading?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.

It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.

“How could I forget?”

Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.

Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his  theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset. 

Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza. 

DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.

“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”

The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down. 

“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.

“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.

“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.

After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N. 

“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!” 

The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.

“What the fuck was that” 

Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.

“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”

“No.”

“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.

“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.

Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.

AUTUMN----------------------

School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.

On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.

It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.

-----

He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice, 

“How’s your weekend looking?”

They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back

“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”

He knew this was the right time to ask you. 

“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”

----

Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.

“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”

“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.

“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”

“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.

Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face. 

“What about this?”

“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”

Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all. 

“Try that”

Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry. 

“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.

As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.

-----

“This is elaborate”

“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.

“That outfit sure is dynamic.”

“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”

Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard. 

Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.

“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.

“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back. 

“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!” 

And they both got lost in the mazes of words.

At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet. 

“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”

If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books. 

As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thanks”

They mumbled into his neck.

He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.

-----

“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.

“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms. 

The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.

“Here.”

He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.

“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.

“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.

A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.

“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.

He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.

Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” he called

He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries. 

“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.

Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.

“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.

“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.

He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat. 

When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.

Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.

The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.

The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers. 

When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks. 

The damn pen.

They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.

Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.

These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.

Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.

WINTER---------------------------

The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.

One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other. 

“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.

“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.

Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.

“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.

“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.

Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration. 

“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”

“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”

Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’

“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”

Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.

“I mean, if you’re sure”

Eager nodding.

“Thanks so much Wil!”

---

It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.

“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.

Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.

“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room. 

“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”

Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”

Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.

He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.

“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”

The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.

Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.

---

They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs. 

“Shit, you two are still asleep?”

Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.

“8:00”

“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.

“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down. 

“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.

Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.

Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.

“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.

“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”

“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”

Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.

Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”

They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them. 

Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.

---

The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom. 

“Karl!�� they waved him down.

“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”

“I know!”

Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room. 

“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N

Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.

The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.

Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.

He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.

“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.

Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George. 

The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-

“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”

Screw you Minx

“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.

“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.

“What?”

-----

The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.

“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”

Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles. 

“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”

She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.

Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.

“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s  holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.

“I just get more confused.”

----------

 Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.

Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.

They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.

Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.

Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.

Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.

“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?” 

Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.

“Dare.”

A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”

Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”

He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out

“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”

“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.

His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.

This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.

---

Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.

“Hey Tech?”

“Heh?”

“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.

His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.

This was his chance.

“I have to start applying for colleges.”

Fuck, he missed it.

-----

The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.

Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.

Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze. 

“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.

How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.

-----

The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.

Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in. 

It was locked.

“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”

“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”

Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy. 

“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”

“Tommy, let us in.”

Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10. 

Tommy made a ‘more’ motion

20. Then 40. Then 50.

“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.

Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.

BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)

And

Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D

He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.

A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.

SPRING------------------

“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging. 

The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.

The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college. 

Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.

“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.

A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together. 

As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.

Apathetic pig-boy: come outside

Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.

They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning. 

“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.

They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”

“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”

Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.

“Open it!”

Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.

Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together

Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…

“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.  

“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about. 

“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.

The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.

“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.

Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”

“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to tell him how you feel.”

----

The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.

Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”

And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.

----

Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down. 

Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them. 

The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd. 

Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally, 

“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!” 

Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called. 

Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.

Person after person was called up, until...

“Technoblade Minecraft”

Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.

The same general act happened  during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.

---

The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.

“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.

The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.

A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.

Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.

After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.

“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out of here by July the latest” 

“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”

Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college. 

“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”

“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.

“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest. 

“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.

This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.

“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”

They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs. 

Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”

“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was. 

Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.

Damnit Dad.

----

The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.

But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.

But the only thing that came out was “OW!”

As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair. 

“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.

Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.

“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”

That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”

“No, it’s fine you!”

“No you go!”

It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time. 

“I love you”

“I love you”

Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”

“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.

They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.

“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.

“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd. 

Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.

“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”

“Oh fuck off!”

A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!

[inquisimer]

Happy Friday! For DADWC: "kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, accidentally proving that there was, in fact, something there" for Cullen x Lavellan, or any pairing you would prefer?

HAPPY FRIDAY GIN!!! Have a lil lavellan x lavellan sparring + cullen at the end, which (mostly) fills your prompt I think LOL

sneaking this in on an early EARLY saturday morning for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

It was a hot day for the middle of the Frostback Mountains; the sun blazed overhead and Neria regretted turning the courtyard into a training ring.

She could have had a nice infirmary, fully stocked and well staffed with competent mages and healers. But no, she let herself be talked into a “necessary” training ring for their overly green recruits. And now she was paying the price.

“Keep your shoulder up.” Mahanon shoved his practice staff toward her, emphasizing the lacking in her block with a blow that was sure to blossom into a bruise come tomorrow. Neria grunted and shoved back with her hips, launching him off her torso and giving herself the leverage.

The wooden staff was not dissimilar to the greatsword he usually wielded, but it was significantly lighter, so he brought it down with greater force than he might have otherwise. She’d have the bruises to show for it come morning, but for now her pride was more important than any physical wound.

She went on the offensive, bringing her staff up to hook around his calf. But he’d grown wiser in the interceding months and her lifted his leg with the motion, hooking his ankle around her staff at a higher angle, jerking her off balance.

He wasn’t the only one, however. She’d battled enough rogue opponents with a who-knows-what kind of style that her own strategy had become far more malleable. She lifted her staff outside his reach and brought it down, hard, over his shoulder, pushing his torso forward so his chin met her upraised knee.

“Oh, Mythal.” Mahanon spat blood to his side, hissing at she brought her leg around his neck. But he was nothing if not a limber Dalish warrior and he rolled deftly out of her choke hold, raising his staff defensively.

His eyes were narrowed, like a panther upon it’s prey, but she was an owl, wide-gazing and all-knowing. Wnere he might expect a direct attack, she rushed forward and pushed her staff against the freshly pressed dirt, vaulting cleanly over his head so that she was positioned behind him. She whipped her staff out of the ground so quick, pressing the blade, fresh with mud, against the back of his neck.

“Yield?” she panted. He flinched at the cold of the paragon’s luster pressing into his skin, but he tensed all the same. It was against his nature, but she felt the exact moment that he surrendered.

Or so she thought.

His neck relaxed and she relaxed with it, only to have him spin around like a top, grasp her staff with both hands, and use it to pull her over him like a mace.

She pulled her knees toward her chest as a reflex, so she passed over his head like a ball. The surprise turned quickly to adrenaline and she jerked her staff out of his grip. Even having forfeited his sword on the maneuver, he recovered quickly, sweeping his feet out toward her legs in an attempt to knock her off balance. She lifted her legs, dodging deftly and swept her staff in a unique move that Dorian had taught her, bringing it toward Mahanon’s neck at an unusual angle.

He caught it with one hand, but only so much as to prevent the inevitable bruise.  They were both sweat drenched and chests heaving with the effort of the spar. He leaned forward, trying to ascertain his options, pressing his neck against the blunt edge of her staff but bringing his face close enough that they were sharing a breath.

“Yield?” she asked again.

-:-:-:-

It was appropriate for a commander to oversee the spars, Cullen told himself. He did it all the time.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the Inquisitor had chosen this morning to personally demonstrate the training runs, or the sleeveless crop-top she was wearing, or the unfairly handsome elf serving as her opponent.

He watched them trade blows, trying desperately to focus on the technical aspects of their form, to remember the notes he wanted to emphasize to the recruits later. But her found his eyes tracing the swing of Neria’s braid over her shoulder, the path of sweat between her shoulder blades.

In his distraction, she brought her clanmate to his knees, the side of her practice staff nudging underneath his chin.

It was a position destined to forfeiture, Cullen knew. He’d been in it himself, a few times in training. But he watched, curious, as Mahanon leaned forward and seemed to whisper something to Neria.

In the coming days, he might wish to have known what was said. In the exact moment, he was curious. Until, at least, the Inquisitor whipped around, something between determination and disquiet in her gaze. She fixed him with a look that said don’t move, so he didn’t: he froze, one hand on his sword, the other hanging uselessly by his side.

She walked up to his position, sweat streaked and only half-clothed, but full of purpose. She pressed one hand against his chest, but not to push him away; as if she were bracing, almost. Green cat eyes met his of deep gold for only a moment, then she had closed hers and pressed dry, chapped lips against his.

Oh fuck me, he thought.

[theladyofdeath]

Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz​

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone. 

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet. 

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror. 

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself. 

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s  size. 

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara.  “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach. 

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire. 

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her. 

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout. 

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?” 

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.” 

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation. 

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?��� She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.” 

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing. 

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention. 

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply. 

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.” 

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one. 

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted. 

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own. 

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention.