#why friendship tingles??

[chrysanths]

suguru

( ... ) "geonwoo," suguru calls, gently touching his shoulder with his good arm. "geonwoo wake up, we need to leave, now." he looks around, but there is no one who can help him. it seems it's just the two of them now. "come on, get up, we gotta go."

Geonwoo drifts between states of consciousness as the world burns around him. Screams and panicked yells of names and requests blur into ringing that suffocates his ears with its drilling. He can still hear the lava bubbling, the agonized cries of those dragged within still piercing the air. His eyes close as he rolls closer to the wall. Should he accept this? Death?

A dream briefly comes over him. One where a bird calls out to him; sings a song like the one his mother once did when he was a child. A chickadee with eyes like simmering coals. It bounces toward him and tilts its head. Then the voice changes. To a man's. Familiar. Someone he knows that lives. "Sugu...— " He calls out a in a wheeze. It hurts to breathe, hurts to move. The forming bruises that grip his ribs make it so.

"Safe… everyone — … safe?" Delirious mumbling is the most he can manage as he sits up. His eyes scan the ruins of the tea house — not a soul in sight but the two royal guards. No glimpse of his sisters, the few friends he had, the royal family. In his most disastrous of thoughts, they are all gone, set to never return, and he provides himself no time to lament over it. They must heal and rebuild. "Fuck... damn it all..."

Geonwoo, at last, finds the wherewithal to examine his fellow royal guard in front of him. Injured as well; unfortunately expected. He reaches out, hand firm against his nape. His eyes search his in the building's fiery glow. Has he, too, lost? The extent of his injuries? The Choi furrows his brows. Suddenly, you care so much? "You live." The statement is firm, pushed through grit teeth as he finally stands, his body heavy against the wall. "Report..." shortness of breath lends him little space for words, but determination of duty forces them out. "Have you seen... any further signs... ? House Yi..."

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.��� You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[cameronsprincess]

Truth or Dare — R.C

summary: A game of truth or dare leads to you and your best friend taking a step over the line of friendship at a New Year’s Eve party.

CW: smut! 18+ only! bsf!rafe x bsf!reader, slightly angsty? (oops), drinking, game of truth or dare, mutual pining, spitting, handjob, male receiving oral, fingering, shared climax (is that a thing? they cum at the same time lmao)

note: happy new year babies🖤🥂 also big thank you to @cameronwillow + @rafesthroatbaby for helping me out with dares and truths for this!🤞🏻🤍

“Alright, the rules are simple,” Topper shouts, passing out solo cups to everyone sitting around the table, “Truth or dare, we all know how to play it. But, tonight’s game is going to be a little different.”

You shift in your spot, your eyes glancing over at your best friend, Rafe Cameron, and the girl he had sat in his lap. You quickly stand, tuning Topper and his explanation of the game out, heading into the kitchen.

Your eyes scan the various bottles of liquor, settling on the Patrón silver. You glance back over at the table of your friends, eyes burning into the back of Rafe’s head before you tear them away, pouring the shot glass full and throwing it back, slamming it onto the counter and repeating the process.

The liquor burns as it slides down your throat, but you keep pushing, taking shot after shot until your face tingles, body buzzing from the tequila coursing through your veins. You slightly shake your head, the high pony your hair is in swaying side to side on top of your head. You’re not sure why you give a shit that Rafe is here with Brooke, it’s not like he’s yours. He’s not yours. He’s just your best friend. Always has been your- “Yo, Y/L/N. You gonna play or what?” Kelce shouts, cutting your thoughts off.

You give a weak smile, nodding your head and slowly making your way back to the group. The second you sit, you can feel his eyes on you, and you quickly glance at him, concern etched in his perfect face. You roll your eyes, tearing them off of him and focusing your attention on the game.

Topper goes first. “Alright…Ahhh, Tatum,” everyone laughs, knowing that Topper would choose Tatum first. “Truth or dare?”

Tatum gives him a mischievous smile, “Dare.” she says confidently.

Oohs erupt through the group, and Topper chuckles, flopping back into the chair he’s in. He places a hand on his chin, as if he’s in thought before his own grin spreads across his lips.

“I dare you…to do a body shot off the person you find most attractive in the group.”

Tatum snorts out a laugh, her lips pursed as she pushes herself out of her chair. She slowly makes her way toward Topper before quickly swerving to the right, her hand reaching out for Gabby.

Both girls erupt into a fit of giggles as Gabby lays on the ground, lifting her shirt just enough to expose her stomach. Tatum returns from the kitchen, bottle of Patrón in hand, before she sits herself on her knees on the floor. All of the guys are deadly silent, and you watch the expression on each of their faces as they watch Tatum pour the tequila on Gabby’s stomach, a lime held between the latter’s teeth. Tatum then pours a small amount of salt across Gabby’s upper stomach, licking it clean before drinking the shot from her belly button and moving to grab the lime from her teeth.

Your eyes land on Rafe’s, his bright blue pools burning into you instead of watching the show the other two girls were giving. The two of you keep your eyes on each other, not once breaking eye contact until Brooke’s voice breaks through the tension surrounding you.

“Rafey, truth or dare?” she asks, voice all high pitched and annoying as she bats her lashes at him.

Rafe clears his throat, “Uh.. Tru-Truth.” He replies, bringing his solo cup to his lips and taking a long sip.

Brooke lets out an obnoxious groan, like she was hoping he’d choose dare. Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth as she thinks of a question to ask him. Finally, she smiles, “If you had to make-out with anyone in this room, who would it be and why?”

Rafe clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He places his hands on Brooke’s hips, lifting her from his lap and placing her in the empty chair next to him. She scoffs, crossing one leg over the other before she takes a long sip of her drink.

“Well? You gonna answer or lose a piece of clothing, Cameron?” Topper teases.

Rafe looks toward you, taking a quick sip of his drink and rolling his neck before he confidently says your name. A few shocked gasps tear through the room, and you choke on your drink, the rum and pineapple juice spilling down the front of your dress. You narrow your eyes on him. Is he fucking joking?

“Well… Alrighty then.. So it would be Y/N, but you have to tell us why?” Kelce says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Because why not? She’s hot, my best friend, and I dunno, I think she’d be a fun time.”

Your cheeks heat up, the alcohol along with Rafe’s words making your already foggy head spin.

“Alright, move on.” Rafe says firmly, standing from his chair and making his way into the kitchen to make a new drink.

You quickly stand from your spot, following Rafe into the kitchen. His body tenses the second you’re beside him. “What the hell was that?” You ask him, arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe pours more whiskey into his cup, quickly downing it before he turns to face you. He places his hands on your shoulders, and you suck in a breath when he lowers his face to yours. You can smell the whiskey and mint on his breath, the warmth sending a shiver down your spine. “It was nothin’ alright? Just wanted Brooke off my dick, she’s been trying all night, and I… I’m not into it. That’s all.”

You scoff. “Sure didn’t look like you weren’t into it, lettin��� her sit all pretty in your lap, I mean hell, you kissed her tonight did you not?”

Rafe sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah.. Yeah, fuck. Alright yeah I did. But that was before I realized I didn’t want to go into next year lyin’ to myself about who I really want sittin’ in my lap at all these stupid ass parties.”

Your head tilts to the side, confusion written across your face. “And who do you want… Hmm? Anyone I know?”

Rafe laughs. “I think you know her pretty well.”

Jealousy sparks deep in your stomach, of course he’d be into one of your friends. It would never be you. He saw you as a sister, a best friend, nothing more, nothing less. The quicker you got that through your head, the better.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe whispers, his thumb and index finger hooking under your chin to lift your head, forcing your eyes on him. You force the tears back, refusing to let him see you break. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why are you so..so angry? Emotional? I don’t know but you’re just off tonight.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, opening your mouth to reply but Topper’s voice cuts you off. “Y/L/N, Cameron, get your asses back in here, it’s Rafe’s turn again.”

You take advantage of Rafe’s hold loosening on your chin, yanking away from him and making your way back to your seat. Rafe follows silently behind you, his ringed fingers tightly gripping at his solo cup as he sits down. Brooke places her hand on his thigh instantly, but Rafe roughly shoves her off, causing you to smile to yourself.

“Alright bud, truth or dare?” Topper asks Rafe.

Rafe straightens his spine, chugging down his whiskey before he says, “Dare.”

All the girls get excited, but you just roll your eyes, crossing your feet under your chair and sipping at your Malibu and pineapple.

“I dare you to spit tequila into the mouth of any girl in this room. The choice is yours.”

Hushed giggles fill your ears, every girl in this room— yourself included— hoping to be Rafe’s choice. Any girl would kill to have Rafe Cameron spit liquor into their mouths, but the off chance of him picking you is slim to none…

Your small pity party is short lived as Rafe stands, harshly yanking the Patrón bottle off the table, slowly making his way toward you. Your eyes flit up to his face, before looking back down at his outstretched hand. You take it, allowing him to pull you onto your feet. His right hand grips the back of your neck, squeezing softly before his left hand brings the liquor bottle to his lips. “Open up, sweetheart.” He rasps, bringing the lip of the bottle to his lips and filling his mouth with the clear liquid.

You obey, opening your mouth and allowing him to pull you into him, his grip on your neck tightening before he’s messily spitting the tequila into your open mouth. He pulls back, a smirk on his face as he watches the liquor that missed your mouth dribble down your lips and chin, falling onto your chest and dripping down the valley of your breasts. Rafe’s tongue darts out, licking up the liquor that’s on the side of your lips, running it down to your chin before stopping at your neck. His blue eyes burn into yours, silently asking for permission to continue.

You give him a small nod, your eyes never leaving his as he dips his head lower, his tongue softly licking at the skin of your neck, running it down low, low, all the way down to the exposed skin of your chest. He licks over the swell of your breasts, pulling a small, hushed moan from you. Rafe pulls back, placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb soothingly rubbing at the skin. His eyes dart back and forth between your eyes and your lips, and your heart rate picks up a notch. He leans in until his lips are brushing against yours, a smile taking over his face before he finally presses his lips against yours.

He kisses you slowly at first, but then he picks up his pace, slipping his tongue into your mouth and getting lost in your taste, your scent, just as much as you get lost in him. He wraps an arm around your waist, all the noise, everyone else in the room drowned out. It was just you and Rafe in this moment.

The sound of someone clearing their throat has you pushing off Rafe, face flushed and mind buzzing from the kiss.

“Alright, alright. It’s about damn time you two came to your senses, but do us all a favor? Get a room!” Topper jokes, throwing a small pillow at you and Rafe while laughing uncontrollably.

Rafe looks down at you, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Do you want to? Get a room, I mean..” he laughs.

You bite at your bottom lip nervously. You want to, you really do, but you’re afraid to ruin what you and Rafe have. What if this messes everything up? You’ve wanted him for so long, and after that little show, it’s obvious he feels the same, but what if something goes wrong? What if this ruins your life-long friendship? What if-

“We don’t have to, sweetheart. There’s no press-”

Before he can even finish his sentence, you’re cutting him off with your lips, pressing a quick kiss to his before you say, “Of course I want to.”

Rafe is quick to grab your hand, dragging you toward the stairs as all of your friends hoot and holler behind you. Rafe starts pulling you up the stairs, dragging you down the long hallway upstairs before reaching an empty guest room at the end of the hall. He pushes the door open, softly nudging you inside before shutting and locking it behind him. He’s on you quick, his large hands gripping both sides of your face and pulling you back into him.

You and Rafe kiss each other fast and rough, tongues swirling, teeth clashing. You moan against his mouth when his teeth bite at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go with a soft “pop”.

He pushes off of you, standing to his full height before you. You watch intently as he grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, exposing his tanned and toned stomach and chest to you. Your hands fly to the belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. You slowly pull the belt through the loops of his khakis, tossing it to the ground and popping the button on his pants before slowly pulling at the zipper. Rafe breathes heavy, his eyes darkened over with lust, watching your movements in awe. He’d never seen anyone so fucking perfect in his life. You were it for him, always had been.

You slowly push his khakis down his thighs, sucking in a sharp breath when you see the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his briefs. Rafe smirks down at you, his fingers hooking under your chin and forcing your eyes back on him.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Absolutely sure.”

Rafe breathes out a sigh of relief, dipping down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You dig your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them down his thighs, his rock hard cock springing free, a bead of precum already leaking from the tip. You softly take him in your hands, giving slow, deliberate strokes, leaning forward and licking the precum from his slit.

Rafe lets out a throaty groan, his right hand sliding up your back, gripping at the back of your neck again. He squeezes softly, “Go on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.” he teases.

You hold eye contact with him, continuing to slowly stroke his cock. Slowly leaning forward, you wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the swollen head before pushing more of him down your throat.

Rafe groans, his fingers wrapping around the high ponytail you wore and tugging at it softly. You bob your head up and down his length, your tongue flattening against the vein on the underside of his cock running up as you pull back. You flick your tongue against his tip, swirling around it, teasing him.

He pulls you back by your hair, dropping himself onto the mattress and turning your body. You tuck your legs underneath yourself, folding yourself over, forearms resting on the mattress as you poked your ass out. Rafe runs his hands down your back, reaching the globe of your ass, gripping a handful in his hands through your dress before sliding his hands down to the hem of the dress.

His fingers rub over your pussy through your panties, a small raspy groan escaping him. “So fuckin’ wet aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You moan around his length, pushing him to the back of your throat and holding him there. Rafe groans, bucking his hips upward, his tip hitting the back of your throat. He slides your panties to the side, his fingertips teasing at your dripping entrance. He slowly pushes a finger inside you, curling it upward and toying at your g-spot. You quickly pull your head up off his cock, strings of spit pulling with your lips. You find his eyes, lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily, pushing yourself back onto his hand.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” Rafe groans, adding another finger and harshly thrusting them in and out of you.

Your loud cries of pleasure fill the room, your eyes on Rafe as he finger fucks you, your hands making slow strokes to his shaft. You slowly rotate your hands, running them up his thick shaft and to his swollen tip. You close your hand around his tip, squeezing gently as you slowly circle your hand around it.

“Fuck, keep that up and I won’t last much longer, sweetheart.”

You smile up at him, wrapping your lips back around his cock and sucking at him fast. You keep your right hand wrapped around him, stroking and sucking simultaneously as Rafe picks up the pace of his fingers, pushing them in and out of your pussy roughly.

The loud chants of your friends downstairs catch your attention for a moment, the countdown to midnight starting. Rafe bucks his hips upward, fucking himself down your throat as his fingers push you closer to your release.

“Don’t focus on them, focus on me baby.” he says breathlessly, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

Your walls clench around his fingers at the same time his cock twitches, both of you about to come undone for one another.

“Three.. Two.. One.. HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Your friends shouts boom downstairs, you and Rafe’s pleasured moans filling the guest room. Rafe thrusts up one final time, his dick stiffening before the hot ropes of his cum spill down your throat. You’re coming undone at the same time as him, legs shaking and body rocking against his hand as he fucks you through your high, riding out his own.

The two of you come down from your shared highs, trying to steady your breathing. Rafe pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. You lift yourself up onto your knees, your eyes finding his again. You smile softly at him, “Happy New Year, best friend.”

“Nah, fuck that. You’re still my best friend, but we’re going into this year together. I mean that. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I think I always have been yours.”

You can’t contain the smile on your face, feeling giddy like a child that your best friend was now your boyfriend. You press a kiss to his lips, sighing contentedly as Rafe kisses you back with a hunger you’d never experienced.

tagging some moots: @nemesyaaa @rafesthroatbaby @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @bloodibambiidoll @cameronwillow @oceandriveab @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @sarahsangelicdoll @lacydollette

[dante2045]

Accidentally transforming my boyfriend into my football coach

John and Aaron had been dating for a little over a year. The men had met in their freshman year of college during football tryouts and had become fast friends. Over the following years, their friendship had gradually deepened and become something more, much to their surprise. Neither of them had ever been with a guy before but were unable to deny the chemistry between them, eventually giving into their desires after a late night gym session. Though neither of them were ashamed of their relationship, they had kept it a secret as they'd been afraid of how the rest of the team and their Coach would react.

The two would often linger in the locker room after football practice, waiting for the rest of the team to head out. When they were finally alone, they would press their muscled bodies against one another for a makeout session. They had mutually agreed to take things slow, both men inexperienced at gay sex and unsure of what position they would be. Lately, their hookup sessions had escalated to sucking and jerking eachother off.

One night, as their last teammate left the change room after practice, John approached Aaron with an unusual request.

"Would you mind wearing this?" John asked Aaron, unzipping his backpack and retrieving a pair of black boxers.

"Uh...yeah, I guess I could," Aaron replied, reaching out and taking the jockstrap from John's grasp, "Why?"

"Truth be told, I swiped it off of Coach Ryerson, and I kind of have a huge crush on the man," John admitted, blushing as he looked down at the floor in embarrassment. "I thought it would kind of be hot if you wore it and we roleplayed as if you were Coach or something. It sounds kind of stupid now that I've said it out loud."

"It doesn't sound stupid; I'm just surprised. I didn't know you were into roleplay," Aaron winked playfully. He slid down his football trousers and jock, revealing his hardening 6-inch cock. Aaron kicked off his cleats and slid the boxers up his legs and over his genitals. The boxers were a little baggy on him, loosely hanging around his waist.

"Damn, babe," John growled in arousal, tossing off Aaron's football jersey so he was wearing nothing but the ill-fitting boxers.

"I guess Coach and I aren't the same size," Aaron observed with a laugh, looking down at his toned, muscular body and the oversized boxers he was wearing.

"Just relax, you look good," John whispered, gently pushing Aaron up against the lockers and giving him a passionate kiss. John's jersey and trousers quickly came off, leaving him in a pair of tight white compression shorts.

The men continued to kiss and thrust up against each other, lost in the throes of lust. Aaron felt a sudden surge of power flow through him, originating from the boxers. His crotch started to tingle, the electric feeling quickly spreading out through his torso and limbs. He let out a small involuntary moan in pleasure from the sensation.

"You okay, baby?" John asked in concern, pulling back from their embrace; he could feel Aaron's body tensing up.

"Yeah, I'm feeling fucking fantastic," Aaron grinned, spinning John around and slamming him against the lockers. John was a little surprised at Aaron's sudden aggression; usually he was gentle and slow during their romantic encounters. John was almost sure that Aaron's shoulders were a bit broader than usual, though he assumed his eyes were playing tricks on him.

As Aaron continued to thrust up against John, he started to grow taller. Aaron had been a few inches shorter than John, but was now taller than his boyfriend by nearly half a foot. His already impressive quads legs began to bulk up and thicken with muscle, while his feet expanded from a size 9 to 11, thick dark hairs sprouting from his toes.

John had noticed the changes and was filled with panic, pushing Aaron away from him. He watched as his boyfriend continued to transform, feeling a mixture of fascination and horror.

"What's happening to you, babe?" John asked, his voice quivering.

"I don't know... but it feels so fucking good," Aaron moaned, his voice deepening as his adam's apple grew more prominent in his throat.

Aaron's pecs ballooned up with muscle while also gaining some fat, his previously tight pectorals now drooping slightly over his abs. Speaking of which, Aaron's washboard abs smoothed over as he packed on some additional weight around his midsection, bulging into a small round belly. Aaron’s shoulders broadened, his arms inflating with thick muscle, his tendons and ligaments developing. His toned biceps and triceps grew even larger. Thick dark brown hairs grew across Aaron's entire body; he went from smooth to hairy in a matter of seconds.

Aaron reached a hand down and stroked his cock through the boxers as it grew longer and nearly doubled in thickness. His balls dropped lower as they also expanded, filling with semen. His tight firm ass rounded out, plumping with fat and muscle.

Aaron's stylish light blonde hair shortened into a crew cut, darkening to salt and pepper. His jawline grew more pronounced, a well trimmed beard forming along his chin and lips. His facial features began to age rapidly, wrinkles appearing as Aaron went from his early 20s to mid 40s. John couldn't believe his eyes; his boyfriend had changed into a completely different person right in front of him. Standing in front of John in nothing other than tight boxers and sporting a rock hard cock was his football coach, Coach Ryerson.

John stared at Coach Ryerson in disbelief. The boxers that had been loose on Aaron were now skintight on Ryerson, showing the outline of his 11 inch cock. Coach Ryerson grinned at John as he continued to stroke his shaft through the boxers; John found it difficult to tear his gaze away from Coach, feeling almost mesmerized by him.

"What...what the hell is going on?" John asked, slowly backing away from his Coach. Ryerson was standing between him and the exit, making an escape difficult.

"I'm assuming you swiped this from my gym bag?" Ryerson asked, gesturing towards the boxers he was wearing. Reluctantly, John nodded in affirmation. "I've had three pairs of underwear go missing in the past month from my office," Coach explained. "I knew that someone must have been stealing them, but they were impossible to catch. Luckily my husband is a bit of a wizard, and he offered to put a spell on my boxers. He promised that the next time it was stolen, I would be able to identify the culprit. I didn't realize that this was what he had in mind, but it's more creative of a punishment than I could've thought up," Ryerson laughed, glancing downwards and checking out his own body.

"It's not fair for you to punish Aaron; he was only doing what I asked!" John protested. "I was the one who actually stole it."

"Maybe you're right. I suppose you deserve to be punished, as well," Ryerson agrees with a wicked grin.

Ryerson grabbed the rim of the boxers and slowly slid it downwards, exposing his hard dick and balls. He stepped out of the underwear so he was now completely nude, holding the boxers in his hand while he maliciously approached John. John's fantasy of having an intimate encounter with his Coach was coming true, John realized; it was just not exactly what he'd had in mind.

(Author's note: This is a revamped version of a story I wrote a long time on CYOC. If you're interested in reading the original version and ensuing branch, it can be found at https://www.cyoc.net/interactives/chapter_175724.html)

[scarletcomalies]

Wanda has been your best friend for almost ten years now, meaning you could trust her to chat about anything, without restricting yourself by prudeness or filters. But that trust went too far one day.

Word count: 1,119

Warnings: 18+ content, guided masturbation through phone call, kind of innocent and inexperienced reader.

A/N: I promise I'm NOT procrastinating this story, you'll have it sooner than you think, but, well, college... 💔

It was a big step, considering that you failed to enjoy every time you explored yourself with your fingers alone. As much as you tried to play music, lie down, and imagine exciting scenes, you ended up frustrated because it wasn't enough. So you opted to buy a little help. Maybe this way you would be able to explore your tastes and to please yourself properly.

Your best friend, Wanda, had recommended an online site. It had all kinds of artefacts, many of which you didn't know existed, or considered too potent a level for a newbie like you. So you went with the safest option; a simple ten centimeter vibrator, with three levels of intensity.

And nothing...

You felt the tingle of the vibration inside you, but nothing built up. It was just a pleasurable sensation that led to nothing.

You had sent a message to Wanda, telling her that you had already received it, and just when you turned off the toy and put it aside, your phone notified a message from the redhead, where she asked you to tell her about your experience.

"It's useless, Wanda!" You answered, such a simple message but all your frustration could be transmitted in this one.

"What do you mean it's useless?" She replied.

"Maybe I'm anorgasmic or something, because I can't finish. I didn't feel it helped me."

You were perplexed when your phone screen displayed her name, indicating that you were receiving a call. This was unusual of her, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Honey," she let out a giggle, as soon as you picked up. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Well, when I feel needy, no matter how much I stimulate myself, I don't orgasm. Not even with the toy. It's horrible," you answered honestly.

These kind of talks were frequent between you, and that was something you loved about your friendship. No judgments, no prejudice, much less in the face of topics that, at the end of the day, were completely normal.

"Yeah, but what did you do with the vibrator?" She inquired.

"Well, I put it inside, the usual," you replied matter-of-factly. You didn't understand why other girls did get to feel something when they had something in there, and you didn't. Why you were more complex about everything?

"Just like that?" She exclaimed, and at your confirmation, she let out another laugh. "No, darling, you have to tease yourself, make yourself desperate for your own touch."

"And how do I even do that?" you asked curiously, but also with a hint of relief. She seemed to have the solution to your problem.

"It's complicated, do you want to try it now? I'll guide you through every step," she proposed.

The thought of hearing her voice guiding you, that she would be listening to you as you pleasured yourself, made the anticipation take over, again initiating that feeling that was begging to be satisfied.

When you thought of Wanda, or when you spent many hours together with her, that feeling came no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. It was no surprise when you realized that this was not something usual and that you definitely felt attraction towards her.

But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you treasured so much.

"No, that would be weird," you replied, feigning aversion to such a thing, when really, that was all you needed.

"Oh, come on!" Wanda exclaimed. "It wouldn't. I'd be helping you get to know yourself, please yourself. I won't even see you."

You sighed softly in resignation. She was right, maybe a lot of friends have given each other advice like that.

"Okay, fine," you agreed. "What do I do?"

Wanda was glad you couldn't see her smile of victory when you agreed, or else, she would've also given herself away.

"First, spread your legs, and place the tip of the vibrator on your clit," she instructed you.

You did as she asked, and no sooner had you pressed, when you felt an electric current run through your body in a matter of a fraction of a second.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, withdrawing it as if by reflex.

"What do you feel?" She inquired curiously. She was aware such a cute little thing like you wouldn't be able to take it first time. But that was what she was there for.

"Weird, like a swift current!"

"Exactly! Please try to place it again, and little by little, apply pressure," she replied. "At your pace, there is no rush, darling," she purred, making your core throb in desperation at her raspy voice calling you that pet name.

Again, you did as she asked.

The intense vibration made all the nerve endings in that area react deliciously to the stimulus, and again, it sent that current through your body.

You let out a little murmur of pleasure, feeling yourself lose control over your body. Your back arched, your eyes closed, and your free hand fisted your sheets in an attempt to keep you grounded and resistant.

"Good girl, apply more pressure for me," Wanda added, noting from your murmurs that you were becoming familiar with the sensation.

Applying a little more pressure caused you to emanate your first moan since forever. That snapped you out of your trance briefly, and you realized you moaned with your friend on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, beginning to feel your cheeks heat up.

"None of that," she countered. "Don't hold back, let me hear you."

In a matter of minutes, you alone learned to listen to your body. You explored different areas and found your most sensitive spots. You were so focused on not leaving a single inch untouched, that you even forgot that Wanda was listening to the mess of moans, whimpers, and murmurs of her name that you were letting out.

"Mmm, Wanda!" They became more audible tones, signaling that you were close. There was too much to process, but Wanda decided to quiet her thoughts and allow herself to be delighted by the wonderful sounds you were making.

Hearing you cum for the first time was the most beautiful of all, by far.

A scream of pleasure too desperate, even animalistic, for your own good. Your so innocent set could not withstand that longing finally reaching its highest exponent, after so much stagnation. She was even surprised your little lungs allowed you to scream like that.

Wanda provoked all that in you, without having touched you... yet. But she made up her mind that it would change.

"Start over, but don't you dare cum," she commanded you. "I'm coming over in ten," she established, before hanging out.

[eilishsmuse]

confess that you were lost

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. friendship? relationship? situationship? you have no clue what you have with billie. and she doesn’t really clarify what is going on between you two either. all you really know is that there’s a thin line of platonic and romantic the two of you constantly cross over for one another.

cw. angst, swearing, heartbreak, jealousy, suggestive, makeout, reader feels thrown to the side constantly, billie is very unaware with the situation, lowk gets a lil slutty, lowk smut, lowk cliffhanger, good ending ig

soundtrack. temptations - partynextdoor

anon’s ask. “there’s not enough billie angst so how about a situation where reader likes billie but billie’s playing with the line of platonic and romantic so r just doesn’t want to risk hurting the friendship”

You're dumb

Well no. Not really. You just fell in love with your best friend, that's all. Which, in your case, was dumb to even begin with. You don't even know how it initially happened. One day you were breaking up with your boyfriend, and Billie was there, comforting you every second of the way.

I mean, it was the real package. Break up with your boyfriend, get endless amounts of affection from Billie, and let her smother you with affection, both physically and verbally. As a friend.

That's what sucked. It was just a way of Billie being a good friend.

But since the breakup, she has been more touchy and affectionate than before. Of course, your delusional self saw it as one of Billie's many ways of flirting. But you were wrong. Billie just, in all honesty, casually likes hopping over the thin line between platonic and romantic. And it haunted you.

Now you were here, sitting on Billie's couch as she raved about one of her most recent hookups with some girl she met at her friend Charli's birthday party. And you sat there, head on hand, as she gidded about all the lust and enjoyment she got out of the hookup. A TV show playing the background you were planning to binge with Billie.

"I mean, it was great," Billie half-laughed out. "Definitely top five from now on."

"That's nice," You fake smiled, glancing over at the TV as the show played on the screen. Letting the sound of the dialogue flood your ears. Not wanting to hear about Billie and her hookup anymore. Jealousy eating you inside and out.

A small frown settled on Billie's lips as she watched you look away from her to the TV. "Why do you suddenly seem annoyed?" She questioned.

Billie had always been able to notice the slight changes in your mood towards her, whether they were negative or positive. She knew your body language well enough, that she easily picked up the signs.

You take a small breath in and looked back over at Billie, your eyes fluttering as they landed on hers. Your eyebrows raising in 'confusion', eyebrows furrowing as well, "I'm not ."

Lie. That was a lie. You were jealous. You hated hearing Billie constantly talk about her hookups all while you listened to her in silence and torture.

Billie's frown continued to deepen. She didn't believe your lie for a second. And that's why she leaned closer to you, her gaze never leaving you. "Bullshit," she bluntly called out, shaking her head.

Billie always knew when you were lying. You couldn't fool her. At least not the way you usually did with your other friends.

"Dude c'mon, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying," she added, letting herself scoot closer to you.

Her slender hand came in contact with your cheek, gently caressing the warm skin with her fingertips. She wanted your honest answer. Sacred what was going on through your mind. Worried for you. Like a true friend.

Just then your skin tingled at Billie's touch. It was a common gesture between the both of you. She'd always been touchy with you in that friend way and it never bothered you. Not fully. You just wished it was more than that friend way.

You then finally took a deep breath in at Billie's words. Your eyes hooded as they looked into hers. A small glimpse of sadness and tiredness laced all throughout them.

A pang of worry hit her gut as her eyes studied your expression. It was a mixture of sadness and exhaustion. She could practically feel the pain you were in. What pain? She didn't know. But still, she wanted to be there for you.

Billie's hand slid down from your cheek to your chin. She gently pinched her thumb and forefinger in order to raise your chin, so your gaze wouldn't stray from hers again.

Billie's features softened, her usual bright eyes looking at you with nothing but worry for you.

"You know you can always tell me the truth," Billie softly assured you. Her touch on your chin never faltered. In fact, it gently caressed your skin with her thumb.

It hurt Billie so much, to see those sad and tired eyes as they searched hers. She longed to know what you were thinking. What was making you feel that way? To figure out a way to make you feel better - maybe even smile.

She gently caressed your chin with her thumb, her eyes searching your face for any sign as to what was truly bothering you. But she was clueless. All she knew was that you were upset, and that hurt her the most.

"I know something's up," she spoke again, her tone soft and soothing.

Billie let go of your chin and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your own.

Billie wasn't stupid. She could see the jealousy radiating off of you.

For a split second, you leaned into Billie's touch. Eyes closing for a moment and cherishing the moment. Her gentle touch was so delicate that when you leaned into it, her hand had no choice but to press up against your head with more force.

"I just-"

Your voice was gentle and low, cracking almost. You weren't on the verge of tears or anything, but the way your throat tightened and swelled as if you'd woken up with a cold said something differently.

Billie watched your expression as your eyes shut for a split second. The way you practically melted into her touch was something that always made her heart flutter.

Her hand stayed against your head, gently rubbing over your temple with her thumb. She was now patiently waiting for you to voice your thoughts, and she had all the time in the world for you.

"Just…?" she softly whispered, encouraging you to continue speaking.

Billie's eyes searched your face for anything that could hint what was going on in your mind. Her thumb continued to gently rub against your temple, trying to soothe any and all thoughts that were causing you to react the way you did.

She knew you. She knew your body language better than anyone else. And all the while, her heart ached at the fact that you were hurting. She hated seeing you in that way. And the fact that you won't say the reason why was killing her.

A quite half whine and sigh came from you. Your eyes now more noticeably showing sadness and fear behind them.

Was this really the time? Billie just finished raving about her 'amazing' hookup, and now here you are on the verge of confessing your love for your own best friend. She wasn't making it any easier either.

With the way her soft, gentle touch feathered across the skin on your temple and the way her eyes searched for any emotions in your body language and eye movement.

Just the way her whole demeanor changed just for you.

Billie's eyes continued to study your face, never straying anywhere else. Her heart felt like it was beating too fast.

She hated this. Hated how you looked so sad and fearful and how you weren't telling her what was wrong. She felt powerless. All she could do was sit and try to soothe you with her touch until you found your voice again.

Billie could feel the atmosphere change. The shift in your body language was very noticeable, and her eyes picked up on it in an instant. "Please, just talk to me," she softly pleaded.

"I can't."

At this point, your voice was scratchy and on the verge of cracking from how tight your throat formed from the emotions. Your eyes shut as soon as you said your words. Your face contorted into a fit of guilt and worry for what was to come in the next few moments.

Your breathing was now heavier and faster than before. Chest rising and sinking with vigorous speed. Face heating in Billie's touch. Mind hazy and blurred.

The more you spoke, the more concern and worry built up inside of Billie. She hated seeing you so torn and upset. Her heart nearly shattered apart when your voice cracked from the emotions.

Her thumb continued to rub over your temple gently, as if to soothe the guilt and worry that was etched on your face. Her other hand moved to hold your cheek, wanting to keep you grounded.

Billie could feel the emotions radiating off of you. She could see and sense the uneasiness and tension.

Billie's features hardened as she could see the look of guilt and worry cross your face with your squeezed shut eyes. She gently gripped your chin and pulled your face up, forcing you to open your eyes and look at her.

"Why can't you?" she softly demanded.

Your heart was pounding. And she knew that. She could feel it under her fingers that were gently pinched around your chin, holding your face steady.

Billie's eyes searched yours, almost pleading with you to tell her the reason why you were so hurt and guilty.

She didn't like this. She hated this. Hated seeing you in pain and not knowing how to fix it.

"Please, just tell me why," she whispered, her voice gentle and soft as her thumb began to rub gentle circles on your chin.

"I hate it when…"

You swallowed to try and make it easier for yourself to say what you wanted to say, but the swallowing only hurt and made your throat tighten up more.

"I hate it when you talk about your hookups."

Your gaze lowers onto your lap where your hands nervously fiddled with one another to soothe the tension in your body.

Billie's heart shattered at your words.

Of course. She should have known. Should have seen the signs.

Her grip on your chin tightened, slightly tilting your face back up so you were looking at her once more. Her eyes were wide as the realization hit her.

She was so dumb.

But she shouldn't have been surprised. All she could see now was the jealousy and sadness in your eyes, all because of the casual talks she had about her hookups with random girls.

Her eyes stayed fixed on your face. She could see how your body language showed tension from how you were fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

Billie's thumb continued to gently rub your chin as she tried to get you to look at her again.

"Look at me," she firmly spoke, eyes darting all over your face.

"I..."

Billie's voice died in her throat. Her heart was now pounding as fast as yours was, and she was completely at a loss for words.

Everything suddenly made sense. The subtle looks of annoyance whenever she mentioned a hookup. The sad and exhausted look in your eyes. All the times she tried to coax an answer out of you but was met with "I'm not jealous."

Fresh tears began to pool in your eyes, slowly trickling down your cheeks. Billie's heart shattered once again.

Seeing you like that hurt. It hurt her more than she could even express. Her grip on your face softened, gently caressing your skin.

"No, no, no. Don't cry," she gently pleaded, bringing her other hand up to your face to try and wipe away your tears.

Billie's features now held a sorrowful look as she watched more tears glide down your red-tinted cheeks. She began to rub away at the tears on your face, trying her best to comfort you in any way she could.

"Please, don't cry," she repeated, her voice much softer this time. Her eyes continued to study your face, trying her best to decipher what you were thinking.

"I fucked up."

Your tone was regretful. You were regretful. You just threw away a friendship for the girl you loved the most and who cared for you the most, just because you caught feelings.

Now you were just annoyed with yourself as you cried. Aggressively tearing Billie's hands off your face and whipping the tears off your face so hard that it burned and was sure to leave red marks. It wasn't Billie's fault, but at the same time, it was.

Why did she have to be so perfect? So beautiful, caring, funny, and loving. Shit.

"Hey, hey," Billie quickly protested as you swatted her hands away from your face. Her expression hardened as she watched you roughly rub at your face.

Billie didn't know what to do. You had just roughly swatted at her hands, which was something you never did to her, and now you were practically rubbing at your face like you were trying to rid it.

She was stunned. Confused. Worried beyond measure. She had never seen you like this before.

"Y/N. Look at me," she firmly demanded.

Billie gently gripped your wrists in order to get you to stop rubbing at your face. Her grip was firm but gentle. She wasn't going to let you bruise or hurt yourself any further.

The concern was obvious in her voice as she spoke, eyes never leaving your own.

"Stop. Look at me. Now."

And so you did. Your face burned as your hands were pulled away from the aggressive actions. Your breathing was fast and uneven.

Panic and anxiety pooling throughout your mind and body. Your hands were shaking ever so slightly in Billie's hands out of worry.

You looked into Billie's eyes with a look of sorrow and fright.

You didn't want to lose her. You wanted her. You needed her.

Billie could feel your hands shaking in her grip, the subtle tremors telling her just how worried and scared you were.

Your facial expression broke her heart, seeing you look so frightened and saddened all because of her.

She couldn't stand seeing you like this anymore. Seeing you in such distraught all because of something she did. Even if she didn't realize it hurt you so much. She just wanted to soothe you and tell you it would be okay.

"Y/N," she softly spoke, gently rubbing her thumbs over your wrists.

And in that moment, Billie looked at you with so much worry and empathy. It was literally living proof that she had to have felt sort of the same way.

She was perfect for you.

Billie's all you ever needed.

It was quiet, the background noise of the TV was the only thing heard along with both of your breathing. You don't know why you did it, but you surged forward.

Your lips ended up on Billie's. They were soft and sweet. It felt like a warm embrace. And you needed more.

The sudden kiss caught her off guard as your lips landed on her own.

Billie swore her heart stopped.

For a few seconds, she couldn't bring herself to respond. But then, as she felt you press against her more, her body took over, acting on its own.

Billie's brain finally registered what was happening, the events finally setting in.

You were kissing her.

You were kissing her.

And she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

Billie's hands let go of your wrists in order to move to your waist, gently pulling you into her lap. She needed you even closer.

Billie slowly tilted her head more to the side in order to deepen the kiss, trying to get more of you. Your lips were so smooth and soft against her own, and the way you pressed up against her had her head feel fuzzy.

Her hand traveled to gently grip your chin in order to tilt your head down, a perfect angle for her to deepen the kiss even further.

Billie's heart was beating faster. It was going at a speed that was way too fast, her body was practically quivering with excitement in your presence.

She continued to meet your eager movements with her own, tongue slipping out to tease against the seam of your lips. Begging entrance.

A moan slipped past your lips into the kiss. Not out of lust. But out of satisfaction. And eagerness.

Your hands rested on her shoulders, gripping harshly and not wanting to let go. One hand travelling to the back of her head to scrunch her hair in between your fingers.

"I love you."

Your voice was whiny and desperate. You needed Billie to know.

Billie's breath hitched at the sound of the moan coming from you. The little noise alone sent a chill down her spine.

She couldn't stop the low whimper that escaped her own throat with your soft, yet rough, grip in her hair and on her shoulders. And when she felt the words of love come from your lips, her entire body shivered.

"Say it again," she murmured against your lips, her grip on your waist tightening somewhat as she pulled you closer to her.

"I love you."

Your body was hot, and your lips were eagerly molding into Billie's. Your hand on her tightened as the words left your lips.

Tongue tracing along her bottom lip, waiting to be let into where you both needed each other most.

The sound of you repeating those three words again had her entire body going weak. It was all she wanted to hear from you. The one thing she was too scared to ask for.

But you were right here. In her lap. Begging her with your tongue.

Billie quickly granted your mouth access, granting your tongue with entrance between her lips. Her own tongue quickly tangled with yours, relishing the sweetness and heat of your mouth.

Billie's hands moved from your waist, her hands roaming over your body eagerly. She needed to touch you. She needed to feel every inch of you. To feel the heat of your body and the sound of every sweet moan coming from your lips.

Her brain was hazy and fuzzy. All she could focus on was how you felt against her. How you tasted and sounded and felt.

Her hands continued to grip you tightly, not wanting to let you go. Her heart was pounding, and her mind was going fuzzy as she continued to kiss you. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

She had never wanted a kiss so badly. Never craved someone's touch so much. You were the sweetest, hottest, best thing she's ever had.

Billie pulled back, her eyes taking in your appearance for a few quick moments. Then, without warning, she began to kiss at your jaw and neck.

A scratchy moan slipped past your lips as you separated from her lips. Her lips are wet and harsh on your skin. It's exactly all you've ever wanted. Needed.

Billie continued to kiss at your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, desperate to hear more sounds from you. She needed to know how much you wanted her as much as she wanted you.

Her hands gripped your hips tight, holding you in place so you wouldn't pull away from her.

"Are you mine? Please. Tell me." she quietly whispered against your skin, the neediness in her voice hard to hide. It came out in a moan. She was hot and desperate. You had no choice but to whine in response.

"Yes."

You'd never sounded more desperate and eager to please her. You wanted her to know that you were hers. You wanted her to know that you were hers to please.

To destroy.

To love.

The simple yet firm word coming from your lips satisfied her more than anything. Hearing you agree that you were hers had butterflies in her stomach.

"You're mine," she continued to murmur against your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses behind as she went.

She wanted to mark you, leave behind proof that you belonged to her. "All mine, all mine," she repeated again, her voice becoming possessive.

Her mouth continued its assault on your neck and jawline. She left love bites of different sizes, covering most of the skin she could reach. She wanted you to wake up the next day and notice the marks with pride. She wanted you to see just how much you were loved, and she wanted others to see just how taken you were.

Billie's teeth gently grazed over your sweet spot, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin.

Your mind was hazy and hot with all the attention. Your core throbbed from the attention. The cloth that covered your core grew damp and uncomfortably sticky with Billie's doings.

Billie's mouth continued to kiss and suck at your neck, her tongue licking and teasing the sensitive skin. The little gasps and moans she was drawing out of you were driving her crazy.

She could feel the heat coming from you, and it was driving her mad. The thought of you wanting and needing her as bad as she wanted and needed you had her heart racing.

Billie leaned back from your neck to get a look at your face. Her eyes landed on you, drinking in your flushed expression.

Both of your breathing was heavy as you both locked eyes. Lust, love, and eagerness lacing through the two of y'all's eyes.

As Billie took in your expression, she swore that her heart skipped a beat. All she saw in your eyes was raw, pure lust and love.

She couldn't tear her gaze from your own, and the heavy breaths that came from the both of you only added to the feeling of tension.

Billie's hands began to glide up and down your sides, needing to touch more of you. Her fingers gently pressed into your rib cage, as if she didn't want to let you go.

She wanted you closer, more. She needed to be connected with you. To see how you felt.

"I need you," she breathed, her eyes never leaving yours. "I need you, all of you."

"Have me."

Please.

"Take me."

Yes. It came out of your mouth just as you wanted it to.

Needy. Hot. Truthfully.

It was like a cry and plea for Billie to please you and reassure you that all the two of you needed were each other.

"I will, I will," she breathlessly repeated as she looked at you. Her fingers tightened around your waist, gripping the flesh as the need in her voice took over.

She was desperate. So, so, desperate for you.

Without warning, Billie swiftly picked you up in her arms and turned you around, now with you on your back and her hovering above.

Billie's knee was now between your legs and pushing up. Her body now pressed completely against yours, their chests only separated by a thin layer of fabric.

She was close. So close. And all she wanted to do was feel you. Every inch. Every part. All of you was for her to have. And no one else's.

Billie leaned down, the tip of her nose gently grazing along the skin of your neck once again.

As she teased her way across your skin, your hands trailed between the two of you, and you started unbuttoning Billie's pants. Your nails scrape softly against the skin just below her belly button.

Your knuckles being met with her soft, warm skin.

A small gasp escaped her lips at your cold fingers and nails gently scraping over her belly. Her skin instantly prickled with a set of goosebumps at the feeling. It made her shiver.

But she didn't protest your actions.

Billie wanted this just as much as you did.

She continued to gently nibble and kiss at your neck as she felt her pants being unbuttoned, letting you do as you wanted.

While you were hers.

She was also yours.

Her body leaned forward more, her knee now pushing directly between your legs. The slight pleasure now shooting up through your core.

Billie was going crazy, and all you did was undo her pants. She needed you.

Billie slowly started traveling her kisses down the side of your neck, her tongue slowly tracing your collar bone before she continued her descent.

Billie's pants were now unbuttoned but that's all your hands could manage to do. You laid there panting as she kissed her way down your body.

You felt Billie's hands come into contact with the hem of your shorts, slowly pulling them down. Her cold rings splaying on your warm skin.

Her hands pulled down the hem of your shorts, revealing more of the pale skin of your legs. Her calloused hands gently gripping the skin of your thighs as she continued to kiss further down your chest and stomach.

Slowly, she pulled your shorts the rest of the way down, leaving you only in your underwear. Billie sat up for a moment, taking in the sight of your body.

Your skin so smooth, and your form so perfect. She was in love.

Billie's hands gently massaged along the inside of your thighs, her fingers tracing over the skin softly.

She then glanced up at your face, a smirk now on her lips. "God, you're so beautiful like this," she whispered, her hands trailing their way further up the inside of your thighs.

You looked at Billie with so much love and lust. You loved the way her eyes scanned your body. The way she adored everything she saw.

Billie continued to look at you, never glancing away. "So pretty Y/N." she said.

Her fingers reached the hem of your underwear and started to gently pull the material down.

"All mine," she then repeated under her breath, as if it was more of a reminder to herself.

With one hand on your hip and the other on your thigh, she leaned down and began tracing open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs.

Billie wanted to feel and taste every inch of you. She wanted to know how sweet you were.

And she was going to find out.

As she lowered her head between your thighs, you held her head gently. Looking down at her with so much love. So much adoration.

The kisses continued to travel up your thigh, making their way closer and closer to where you wanted her most.

Billie's free hand continued to gently massage your thigh, her fingers tracing little patterns into the skin while she took her time getting closer.

"I love you," she muttered against your leg, the words coming out rough and desperate.

"Billie," You whined softly, looking down at her. Wanting and needing her mouth on your core.

Your whimpers sent a shiver up her spine. She loved the way you said her name. The way it came out as though it was the only word you could speak.

Billie wanted to draw more of those sounds out of you, and it seemed she was getting exactly what she wanted.

Her kisses only continued to travel higher, getting closer and closer.

"Be patient," she said, her voice low and soft against your skin.

And soon, finally, her mouth was where you wanted it the most.

Her tongue gently licked your core, tracing around the sensitive skin. Her free hand gently slid over your thigh, her fingers digging into the flesh.

Billie was going crazy. You tasted so sweet. Better than how she could have imagined. She loved the way you squirmed and gasped and gasped her name.

Her tongue continued to lick and explore, finding all the places that made you gasp the loudest.

She needed to hear more. Needed to feel more of you on her mouth.

Between the sweetness and the heat, she was losing herself. Everything was getting blurry. All she could focus on was you.

You couldn't help but let a cry out at the pleasure. Her wet mouth sucked and swirled on your throbbing core.

The sounds of her wet, lewd actions filled the room along with your moans.

She separated from your core for a split second and looked up at you with her beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with.

"I love you."

'I love you too."

‧₊˚✩彡

fer yaps!!!

yay!

[anyamaris]

Reciprocity

Summary- Your unrequited crush on Hoseok seems to have played itself out as you overhear a conversation between him and Yoongi. But Yoongi has a secret of his own to tell you.

Word Count- 11372

Pairing- Yoongi x F!Reader (x Hoseok in a way?)

Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut/angst

Warnings- Unrequited love, a bit of a love triangle? Adult language, vulgarity, unprotected sex, lots of smutty things, minors DNI 18+++

Tags- @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- Well this started out as a Hoseok fic....but Yoongi kind of took over? This is my first attempt at a BTS fic so please be kind. Thank you to @kwanisms for the gorgeous header and to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading all of this process and encouraging me...this wouldn't have been written without you!!

“What do you mean?” You hear the familiar sound of Hoseok’s voice from the other room as you walk in.  

Smiling, you open your mouth to announce yourself, but the next words have you clamping it shut. 

“She’s just my friend, I don’t see her that way.” 

Curious, you set the bag of food down on the coffee table in the living room, wondering who he’s talking about.  

“Liar, I see how you two are together.  You’ve been friends for ages, and I can tell-”

“I’m not lying.  Seriously, man-maybe you’re projecting.  She’s just my friend.  As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 

Hoseok’s laugh at that last line has your heart dropping two stories below the apartment, the tingle of hurt burning the back of your throat.  

“Hobi-” You can hear the tightness of Yoongi’s voice as you try to calm the tsunami in your stomach.  

“Why are you so intent on matchmaking us? It’s not like you, dude. Stop meddling, it’s weird.”

“As long as you say so, man. I just figured I’d check before-” 

Their voices halt the moment you begin to make noises, unwilling to hear your two friends talk about you like that. 

You already felt invasive enough having listened in on that little bit.

Fighting down the tears pricking the back of your eyes, you manage to call out to them.  

“I’m back with food!”  

You’re certain your voice is normal as you make your way into the kitchen, settling the bag down on the counter to pull out containers for everyone.  

“Come eat while it’s warm…” you manage, ignoring the two men as they wander out from Hoseok’s bedroom.  

“That was quick…” Yoongi mutters, and you don’t catch the glare he throws at Hoseok.

Shrugging, the latter man comes over to give you a big smile.  

“Want to eat in here or the living room?” Hoseok asks, nudging your shoulder playfully as you finish unpacking the food.  

Trying to school your features, you just shrug, glancing over at Yoongi.  

He’s just looking between you, eyes narrowed before he sighs and finally shrugs back at you.  

“Whatever works, I’m just hungry.” Yoongi grabs a carton of noodles to sniff it, glancing around at the little buffet you’d brought.

“Thanks for the food.” he says, shooting Hoseok another look as he hovers beside you, bumping into you as he picks through the array.  

After you all eat your fill and clean up the kitchen, you find yourself on the couch beside Hoseok as he rambles on about his day.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but think about what he’d said earlier.

“As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 

As long as you’ve been friends with the man, he’s always been playful and flirtatious with you.  

While that was all fine with you, there were times that you could swear there was something more.  

That he may have something beyond just your close friendship.

That he may feel the same way that you do for him.

The crush you’d had on him existed long before you’d called him your best friend.  

Long nights talking about everything and anything, lingering on the phone even after one or the other passed out.

How he’d show up after he’d heard you had a bad day, bringing you your favorite coffee or treat.  

How willing he’s always been to make you smile.  

Yes, that’s what friends are for.  

They care for you in your bad times, as well as the good.

You’ve told yourself this so often that you’d convinced yourself at this point.

You’d had to, the silly crush you had on him had slowly become true feelings.

Feelings you’d been struggling to suppress because your friendship had always meant more to you.  

Yet, he was always cuddling with you, touching you, brushing back your hair….

The flirtatious nature of how you were together had of course been noticed by all of your friend group as well.  

Yoongi asking Hoseok about it was nothing new either, so that’s not what bothered you.

Even as much as you’d told yourself that you were only friends, hearing him say that he couldn’t even see you as a woman had your heart dying in your chest.

It shouldn’t hurt, you’ve told yourself that very thing night after night after he’d done something to get your pulse racing, your emotions stirring in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you jump as you feel Hoseok’s breath on your ear.

“Whatcha thinking about?”  He asks and you turn to look at him, swallowing heavily.

There it was-that cheerful smile.  

The one that always had you wondering how you would ever survive being around him.

“Nothing.” You mumble, turning to glance at Yoongi, pulling back to put some distance between you.

“How’s your work going?” you ask, pretending not to notice how Yoongi shoots yet another look at Hoseok.  

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the door and you eagerly jump up to get it.

You’re not sure if you can handle Hoseok’s touchiness tonight.

Not while you were still reeling from his painful words.

“Hey, are you ignoring me? You’d better be free that night, what would I do without my bestie beside me?”

You just sigh at the text, chewing your lip as you ponder how to deal with him.

Your writing had been taking a toll ever since your mood had plummeted.  

After that evening, you’d recovered some from the hurt.  

You’d known that you two were only friends, but apparently there was a part of you that had clung onto a small bit of hope that he’d secretly felt something more for you.

At least you had your answer to that now, you keep telling yourself.  

Don’t act weird, you think, shaking your head at how ridiculous and emotional you were over something you knew already.

Flirtations or not, he’d never attempted to do anything beyond just that.  

Don’t be a greedy bitch, and don’t whine about stupid shit, you think to yourself.

“Fine, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.” You send him, smirking.

“DEAL!” he sends back with his typical emojis, making you laugh despite the ache.  

Checking the rest of your messages, you manage to see a missed text from Yoongi.

“Huh, weird…”  you mutter, opening it.  

“Hey, so…are you free sometime this week for coffee or lunch?”  

You frown at the text, tilting your head in wonder.

Curious, as Yoongi wasn’t one to reach out suddenly for no reason, you just message back:

“Sure, I can meet whenever you’re free.  Is everything okay?” 

It’s a bit before you get a response, which was typical for the man, as he was always doing something in his studio.

“Yeah…just wanted to talk to you about something personal.” 

His response has your curiosity peaking, and you immediately respond back to him.

“Well, let me know when you have the time and I’ll come meet you wherever!”

Interesting, you think.  

Yoongi and you had been friends for as long as you and Hoseok, but you’d never developed the same kind of closeness.

Mostly because of how different they are, of course.

Yoongi is reserved, a bit more quiet and serious.  

He rarely spends a lot of alone time with you, so something must be up if he’s asking for a one on one.

Hoseok is cheerful and upbeat, talkative and he never shies away from physical touch with you.

Frowning, you realize that’s part of what got you into this mess in the first place.

It’s not his fault that I have inappropriate feelings for him, you chastise yourself.

You take a moment longer to read the next text from Yoongi, responding that he will text you when he has time.

Setting down your phone, you turn to your laptop to see if you can break through the writer’s block today.

You make your way inside the quiet little coffee shop, glancing around to see if Yoongi was inside yet.  

None of the tables were taken, and there was a lone barista behind the bar, cleaning.

I must be early, you think, checking the time.  

Figuring you’ll get drinks while you wait for him, you make your way to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” The man asks, and you place your order, deciding to get something for Yoongi as well.  

By the time the young man is setting your two drinks on the counter, you hear the chime over the door ring.

“Hey, sorry, I got held up at the last minute.  Freaking Taehyung and Jungkook and their normal antics.” He grimaces.

You can’t help but grin, knowing all too well how hard it was to escape the little menaces.  

“No problem, here I got you a drink already.” You hold it out to him, his eyes lighting up as he takes it.  

“Thank you…my intention was to buy your drink, but you beat me to it.” He smiles, gesturing to the open tables. 

Choosing a two seater by the window, you slip into the chair as he does the same across from you.

“So, how is work going? Super busy?” You start as he sets his coffee on the table.

He sighs, running a hand over his face as he glances out the window, nodding.

“Always, and those two little-” he begins, then shakes his head.

“Anyhow, it’s nice to get away.  How is your writing going?” He inquires, leaning forward as he turns to face you fully.  

Letting out your own sigh, you look down to toy with the lid of your cup.  

“Eh…I’ve had better weeks of writing. Lately….” you let the words drift off, just giving a small shrug to fill the void.

You notice his frown as he studies you, concern in his eyes as he tilts his head.

“Lately? Did something happen? What’s going on?” He asks, his sudden worry apparent.

Waving him off, you take another sip of your drink.

“Oh…just…things.  Life.” You try to smile, “Just stupid thoughts and trying to work through something.  But it’s nothing important.” 

You try to look reassuring but the concern stays on his face.  

“What about you? You said you had something personal to talk about?” Changing the subject was the best bet, you think.

“Mmmm….” he hums, his voice deep and low as he seems to ponder how to start.

“I…well…” he chews his lip, glancing down, then back up at you.  

“We’ve been friends for a while, right?” He asks, taking you off guard.  

You merely nod, thinking for a moment before you respond, “Eight years, yeah.”

He nods once at your answer, studying you before glancing away again.  

“You haven’t…dated anyone since we’ve all been friends.” He says and you furrow your brow at him.

“I mean…no…I actually haven’t.” You mumble, frowning, worried about where this is going.

“How come?” he asks bluntly.

You can only blink at him with a blank expression.  

“Not to be rude but…I thought you wanted to talk about something personal?” You deflect, wondering why he’s suddenly so curious about your dating life.

His cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his cup as he idly spins it on the table.

Clearing his throat, he manages to say, “Well…yes, this is personal…” 

Glancing around the little shop, you try to think of how to word it. 

It’s not like you can blurt out, “Because I’m in love with Hobi.” Because…just no.  

“It’s…complicated, I suppose.” you finally respond, tapping your foot against the table leg.  

His eyes meet yours, flicking back and forth as they seem to want to see beyond your evasive answer.

“I have you guys, why do I need to date? I guess the right person just hasn’t presented themselves.”

He hums, leaning back to watch you as you speak.  

“You mean you have Hoseok?” He asks simply, causing you to choke on the sip you were taking.  

Reaching for a napkin to clean up the coffee that shot out of your nose, you dab at your face as he watches you with a serious look.  

“I don’t-” you start but he puts up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t notice how you two are together, everyone has asked at some point if you two are a couple.” He says softly, his words obviously not intending to hurt but damn, do they.

You just take a moment to tamp down on the surge of pain at the reality of things versus what everyone “thinks”.  

“Yeah well…he has a way of making people think that, doesn’t he?” The bitterness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, who leans forward once more.

“Is this why you asked me to come out, Yoongi? To talk about my personal life?” You say a bit more harshly than you intended, wiping up the little droplets of coffee off the table to distract yourself.

“Hey-not…like that.  I’m not trying to…” he waves his hands around, flustered at your reaction.  

“Look, I heard you two talking the other night, alright? I’m very well aware of how  he sees me, so it matters little what I think about anything, doesn’t it?”  You tell him, finally looking up at him.

His frown tugs down even more now as he reaches out to place his hand over yours.  

Sighing, he shakes his head.  

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that…I’m sorry-” 

Cutting him off, you blurt out, “He doesn’t even see me as a woman, so-” 

“Well he’s fucking stupid then.” Yoongi counters, almost growling the words as he spits them out.

You can’t even think of what to say, shocked at the tone of his voice, the anger in his dark eyes as he squeezes your hand in his.

“I swear, I wanted to slap the smile off his face the other day when he said that to me,” he continues.

“How could anyone not see you as a woman? It’s fucking rude to say something so disrespectful, even if he thought you couldn’t hear him. I don’t care if we’re friends or more.” 

You swallow the pain at the memory, but the fact that Yoongi is getting so defensive for your sake has a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach.  

You manage to blink away the tears threatening to slip from your eye as you listen to his tirade.  

“He can think whatever he wants…” You mutter, glancing out the window to watch the people walk by, life going on outside of this painful conversation.

“Well, he doesn’t need to be so blunt about shit like that.  He’s the one always clinging to you like you belong to him-” Yoongi almost snarls out, but he stops, sighing as he blinks down at his drink.  

“Well, for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.” You tell him, intrigued and curious about his reaction to everything.  

You swear he almost sounds-

“I sound jealous, don’t I?” He says, a humorless laugh accompanying the words.  

“You sound like you just didn’t like what he said, I wouldn’t think you were jealous, Yoongi.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

He pauses as he looks down at your hand beneath his own, rubbing his fingers along yours.

“What if I were to say I was jealous?” He asks, continuing to look down before he raises his gaze to meet yours.  

It seems as if time stops in the tiny cafe as his words echo through your head.   

Jealous?

Yoongi?

“Yoongi, I’m not in the mood for jokes today.” You sigh out.

He purses his lips, his jaw working as he holds your gaze.

“I like you.” 

Your heart stutters, his sudden confession taking you completely by surprise.  

There wasn’t a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Not an ounce of teasing in his tone.

He slips his hand off yours, leaning back as if he expects an outburst, but he never takes his eyes from yours.

Your mind is reeling at the idea that he’s being deadly serious.

Min Yoongi just confessed to you.

Yoongi…the serious, stoic friend you’d had for years.

When you don’t immediately respond, he just wipes a hand over his face.

“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive when I asked him about how he felt about you the other day.” He admits, finally breaking eye contact to look out the window, tching with his tongue as he considers his next words.

“Honestly, for years, everyone has had the idea that the two of you had some secret relationship going on.  That you just were being completely quiet about it, though to us it seemed very obvious.”  

You glance down at the hand he was just holding, feeling as if you’re floating in some weird alternate universe.  

Hearing how you and Hoseok had been viewed, mixed with the fact that Yoongi has had feelings for you….

You try your best not to zone out, hanging on his words as he continues.

“Of course, if that was the case, I’d be happy for the two of you.  You’re my friend, first and foremost.  Despite how I feel about you.”  

The low timbre of his voice lulls the pain of what he’s talking about a bit.

You’d always loved his voice, especially when it dropped low and deep like this.

Eyeing him as he watches the people walk by, you tilt your head to look at him in this new light as he talks.

It wasn’t a secret that you found all of your friends extremely attractive, every single one.  

Sometimes it felt almost unreasonable how handsome they all were, and you’d told them as much on many occasions.  

You certainly weren’t afraid to voice that opinion, it was just a fact at this point.  

It had just been so easy to look beyond the physical with all of them and Hoseok had definitely always been right up close, demanding all of your attention.

Never once past getting close with all the guys did you consider that any could have feelings for you, with the exception of Hobi of course.

“You…like me?” You finally respond, your entire worldview turning on it’s head.  

He winces at your words, turning back to meet your gaze.  

Pursing his lips, he merely nods.  

“I’m sorry if it’s abrupt, and if it upsets you at all.” he says softly, reaching out to grab his cup to drink from.  

“So the conversation you had with Hoseok….” you let the question linger as he sets his cup back down.  

He clucks his tongue, nodding gently as he finishes the thought.

“I figured if there was something between you two, if there was no hope…” he shrugs, chewing his lip as he looks down.

His words feel so very close to how you’ve been feeling lately about Hoseok, hitting you harder than you expect.

“Then you’d know…then you could let go.” You say without thinking, blinking at having uttered the words out loud.

His dark gaze meets yours, understanding passing between the two of you as he nods.

“I was shocked, honestly.  When he said nothing had ever happened between you.  But when he said-” he stops, his jaw clenching.  

You only manage an anemic smile as he continues, shrugging off the almost familiar pain.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he tells you, “Confessing…admitting to you how I feel.”

You can’t help but feel a smile creep across your face as his cheeks tinge with a blush, unable to feel anything but excitement at his bravery.

“Yoongi-”  You start, but he stops you before you can say more. 

“Look…I asked him because I wanted to know how he felt about you.  If there was something there that I shouldn’t touch. On his side.” 

You just nod, understanding his logic with that.

“I want you to know that…telling you this, I don’t expect anything to come of it.  I know we’ve been friends a very long time and…I doubt you’ve ever seen me in that way.” 

Before you can respond, he only gives you a look and you let him continue speaking before saying anything.

He fiddles with his now empty cup, seeming to be turning over how he’s going to proceed.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.  I thought eventually that they’d fade away and I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” he shrugs a shoulder as he says this.

His words still stun you, even though he’s already admitted to liking you.  

“Now I know how he feels about you, but I also want to ask you the same thing.  If it’s not too intrusive, of course.” he says, watching you closely.

You swallow the immediate urge to deflect and deny your true emotions for Hobi.  

But Yoongi was being completely honest with you, not to mention the courage it was taking to confess like this.

It felt dishonorable to lie at this point.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you can only let out a shaky sigh as you build up the courage to admit your true feelings out loud.

“I …. I have had emotions for Hoseok for a long time.” You finally say, watching him as closely as he’s watching you now.

He blanches a bit, but he seems unsurprised as he nods.

“I had the feeling that was the case.” he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he glances out the window, his tongue in his cheek.

“It’s not like I expected anything, but…” you can only spread your hands out, as if to say, it is what it is.

“So his words the other day must have hurt.” He says, as a statement rather than a question.  

Feeling the slight ache at the memory, you can only nod as you shrug a shoulder.  

“It did, but it’s not as if I expected anything else. He’s never expressed any interest in me.”  

Yoongi’s head snaps around to look at you, his eyes narrowing even more.  

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s obvious that he’s encouraged your feelings.  Even if it’s been unintentional.  I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off, now that I know how you feel.”  

His words seem to snap something inside of you, and suddenly he’s sitting forward as he reaches out to you, his eyes widening.  

“Hey…shit I’m so fucking sorry-” 

It takes you a moment to realize that tears are streaming down your face, and you’ve been holding your breath.  

He is out of his chair in a heartbeat, suddenly kneeling beside you, using a napkin to gently dab at your cheeks.  

You let out a shaky breath, intending to tell him it’s alright, that you’re fine but the moment you open your mouth, only a sob escapes.

“Damn it, I came here to admit my own feelings and here I am, hurting you.”  His voice is laced with anger, directed at himself.

Shaking your head, you just cover your mouth, trying to not draw the concern of the poor barista as you try to compose yourself.  

“No-” you choke out, looking down at the deep, concerned eyes of Yoongi.  

“Can I…?” He gestures awkwardly with his arms, and you immediately nod, slipping into his hug.  

“Shhh, hey, it’s alright.  I’m so sorry I’m digging up painful things for you, I never intended to upset you.”

You cling to him, gripping the back of his leather jacket as you try your best to collect yourself.

He rubs a hand down your spine as he continues to soothe you with small, simple words, giving you time to calm down.

“You-didn’t.” you finally manage, pulling back as you wipe at your face.  

You take in his pain filled eyes, and it’s an odd feeling to be filled with wonder at his sympathy and care all while wanting to bawl your eyes out over Hoseok at the same time.  

“I-I’m just confused, and frustrated.  At myself, mostly.” You say, trying to laugh.

“At yourself?” He asks, still kneeling before you, holding you at arms length as he reaches out to wipe away an errant tear.  

You just nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah, I know he and I are only friends, so it’s stupid to think of anything else between us.”  

His eyes darken as he grimaces at your words, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, don’t do that.  Your emotions are valid, even if you don’t want to have them.  It’s not something we have much control over, believe me.” He smiles but you can tell he’s empathizing more than he’s letting on.

This man had just confessed to you and here he was, comforting you over another man.  

Your head spins from the day's events, feeling overwhelmed from it all.

“Yoongi…” you start and he hums in askance.

Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to cup his cheek, almost laughing at the shocked and panicked look that washes over his face.

“Things have been…confusing.” you tell him, and he can only nod, but he leans into your hand as you continue.

“I’ve known for a long time that Hoseok doesn’t have feelings for me.  That…it’s in my head.” You admit, albeit sadly.

His lips thin into a line, but you continue before he can say anything.

“I’m still processing this…” you gesture with your free hand.  “It’s the last thing I expected…especially from you.” 

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head at your admission.  

“Especially from me?” He asks softly.

You just smirk and nod, “Yes, especially from you.  You’ve never given me the impression that you’ve…been interested.” 

He just grins, and you still with shock over just how ridiculously sheepish and handsome he looks kneeling before you.  

Maybe...there was something here.  

Something you never considered because you’ve been blinded by Hoseok standing in the way.

Before you can jump on that train of thought, you manage to focus on what you were trying to say.

“Would you be willing to give me some time?” You ask him quietly.

His eyes widen and you can see him trying to fight back a smile at your words.  

“You…you’re not outright rejecting me?” He asks in surprise.

Smiling at his shock, you merely shake your head.

“No, I’m not.  But...knowing I have feelings for someone else has to have you lose some  interest.” You tell him, not even posing it as a question.  

You know it’s not something most people would tolerate.

“Hey…I’ve had a feeling that you two had a thing at some point.  It didn’t make me any less interested in you. And…I’ll be honest…” His eyes graze over you slowly, causing your face to flush at the deepening of his voice.

But it’s nothing compared to how his next words turn your world upside down.

“I’ve always seen you as a woman.  And not just any woman…an intelligent, strong and beautiful woman.”

His fingers brush your cheek, collecting the tear that leaks down your face as he gives you his signature lopsided smile.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Time seems to fly by, yet it feels as if you’re trudging along in a slow fog all at once.

Since your coffee meeting with Yoongi, your emotions have been all over the place.

The one good thing about being in this state is that your writing block is nonexistent.

After getting home from your talk, you’d naturally gone to your laptop and opened it, your thoughts racing like mad.

On a whim, you just started writing.

Pouring your heart out into the void of white on your screen, tears blurring your eyes as you let your imagination work through some of the confusion and stress that had been building.

Knowing this would never see the light of day, you just ran with it; allowing your frustrations out on your fictional characters as day bled into night, then into day again.

Picking up your mug, you pause as you realize that it’s empty.  

Glancing around, you blink at the morning sun peeking through the blinds, suddenly feeling a yawn claw its way out as you stretch and crack your neck.

6:44am, the clock seems to judge you with its ticking second hand.  

Well…you’ve definitely gotten quite a lot of work done, even if it’s never going to become anything.

Standing to stretch out your back, you glance around at your empty apartment.

The tension headache you’d developed over the last week still lingered, but you felt a bit lighter now that you’ve worked through the swirl of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.

Padding into the kitchen, you turn on your electric kettle and lean against the counter to wait, thinking back on the way you’d left things with Yoongi.  

His words still didn’t seem real, and you can’t help but think about him on his knees before you.

His long dark hair hanging in his eyes, one side tucked behind his ear.

Eyes narrowed, biting his lip as he professed his concern for you.  

It would be a bold faced lie to say you’d never looked at him as a woman does a man.

You and your girlfriends had often had some seriously depraved conversations about the men in your friends group, but you felt that was only natural.

You hung out with a group of handsome men, who wouldn’t give them the once over and imagine?

When you’d all first started hanging out, it was impossible to not find them all attractive.  

Have you ever even considered Yoongi?

For certain you’d appreciated his looks, his deep voice, his laid back demeanor.  

But from the beginning, it was always Hoseok’s sunny smile taking up your entire vision.

Gorgeous, cheerful, energetic-you had both been drawn to each other in a way you couldn’t explain.  

It was easy to get sucked into his energy, to let yourself get swept away.  

Before long, you and Hoseok were best friends, sharing everything with one another.

All of your friends were convinced that one day you’d just announce that you were together.  

Yet here you were, eight years later, hearing that he didn’t even see you as a woman.

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Then Yoongi out of the blue drops that bomb on you.

As much as you know you have to work through these emotions for Hoseok, you can’t help but think about how there’s really nothing to get over.

You never had anything together.

Sure, he flirted and teased.

Yeah, he almost always had to touch you, be next to you.

But…there was nothing more.

Not one kiss.

Not even an “almost anything”.  

In the end, it seems like it was just his way of being your best friend and you resent that you feel like he’s hurt you in some way.

He hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t even anything to be angry at.

Sighing, you pour some hot water over a teabag, forcing your thoughts away from Hoseok for the moment.

Your last conversation with Yoongi replays in your mind as you steep your tea, a small warmth blooming in your stomach at the memory.

Not much had been said that hadn’t been talked about over coffee; he’d walked you home as you both awkwardly discussed going forward.

“I hope you don’t feel any pressure to give me an answer-” He’d said as you approached your building.

His hands were in his pockets, dark strands dangling as he kicked at the pavement outside of your building.

It was a rare sight to see Min Yoongi being shy and nervous, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him.

Stepping forward, you’d drawn his gaze, his eyebrows raising as you cut him off.  

“Yoongi, do you want to come over sometime this week and watch a movie?”

Your words had shut him up for a solid thirty seconds as he blinked at your invitation.

“Eh?” He finally managed, then he was tilting his head in confusion.  “I thought you needed time?”

“Time to think about things, yes.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.  Unless you’d rather not-” 

“No-I mean, yes, sure, I’d love to come watch a movie.”

Even now, you can’t help but smile at the delight in his dark eyes before he looked away, even as he clucked his tongue and cleared his throat.

Shuffling back to your cozy chair, you check your phone and notice a bunch of missed texts.  

Of course, you think, opening the familiar name on the screen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hey, are you sleeping?”

“I bet you’re writing and you have no idea what time it is! GO TO SLEEP!” 

Shaking your head and smiling, you just ignore Hoseok’s texts for now, scrolling through the others just checking in and saying hello.

Reluctantly, you make your way to your room, slightly annoyed that Hoseok knew you well enough to call it.

“Jerk.” You mutter, curling up with your blankets and drifting off.

“I swear, you guys just want something to gossip about.”  Hoseok scolded the nosy men in the room.  

“Don’t lump me in with them.” Namjoon says, turning his back to ignore the chatty trio.  

“Really, though, what would happen if she got a boyfriend?”  Jimin was asking, glancing at Taehyung as if to ask him for backup.  

Hoseok just leans back, sighing as he rests his hands behind him.  

“Then I would congratulate her and wish her well.”  He shoots back without hesitation, shaking his head.

He ignores the looks the two share, nodding at Yoongi as he makes his way into the practice room.

“Really? Just like that?” Taehyung asks, disbelief in his voice.

“Just like that.” Hoseok responds, shrugging his shoulders.  “You’re all overly concerned with my personal life right now.”

Yoongi stays silent, merely observing as they continue their conversation.  

“So, if-” Taehyung begins but Hoseok groans in annoyance, giving him a dark look that stops his question.

“If you’re not going to focus on practice-” He growls, causing the two to scramble and make excuses about things they need to do.

“What is it with these questions lately?” Hoseok mumbles, shaking his head as he stands to resume his choreography.  

Yoongi just grunts in response as he turns to focus on his own work.

Answering the door, you smile as you’re greeted with Yoongi’s familiar smiling face.  

Opening the door wider to allow him in, you can’t help but admire how handsome and soft he looks.

He’s wearing a loose grey sweater and jeans, and his long dark hair is pulled up into a half ponytail.  

Honestly, he looks...really sexy.

“I brought snacks.” He says, holding up the bag as he walks in and takes off his shoes.  

“Great!” You respond, taking the bag to the kitchen to put into little bowls so you can enjoy them during your show.

It’s been almost a month now that he’s been coming over for a movie night, making this number five.  

They weren’t dates, necessarily.  

Nothing had happened.

You’ve talked, laughed, watched movies, dramas, music videos.

Chatted about work, food, life in general.

Everything but touched on the topic that started all of this.

The respect he has had for you has been amazing, not once asking about your feelings towards anything, never inquiring about Hoseok or being intrusive in any way.

And he almost always sat with something between the two of you on the large couch, you think, watching him make his way to his normal spot.

Much had changed in a month, yet it also felt as if you were in this kind of limbo with Yoongi.

Of course, you were well aware that you were the one who asked for time.  

Hoseok had started to notice the little things as well.

Once upon a time, you’d have been on the phone with him at least a few times a week, ranting about your most recent writing project, or listening to him talk about dance practice and everything in between.

Those calls had slowly dwindled as you found yourself focusing more on yourself, on your work, on learning how to exist without him being your primary focus.  

On the other hand, you had been exchanging alot more conversation with Yoongi over this time.  

You’d been friends with him just as long as you have been with Hoseok and the others, yet you were learning things about him you never knew.

As you set the dishes down on the coffee table, you glance at where the pillow sits beside Yoongi, creating a makeshift barrier between the two of you.  

It wasn’t a sudden thought to remove it and toss it, to slide in beside him and see what it felt like for Yoongi to be the one to pull you into his side, to lay his head on yours as you curled into him.

No, it wasn’t sudden at all, it has been building up over these little drama dates you’ve been having with him.  

Settling on the couch beside the pillow, you chew your lip, considering how to even go about wanting to close the distance with him.  

Perhaps it was still too early, you think, returning his smile as he looks over at you, nodding along to his suggestions for your selection of the night. 

You both settle on a drama that has been airing, finding yourself involved and before long, two hours have passed.  

“Did you want to sleep or-?” He asks, turning to you as he holds the remote in his hand.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch another.” You say softly, admiring him as he gives you a cute little smile as he turns to queue up the next episode.  

“Alright, bathroom break, I’ll be right back.”  He says, wandering off down your hallway.

“Need anything while I’m up?” you ask, going to get two more water bottles.  

“I’m good!” He calls as you go to sit back down.

You hesitate a moment before you grasp the irritating pillow and toss it over to the chair beside you.  

“There.” you mumble, proud of yourself before you’re filled with a sudden anxiousness as he comes to join you again.  

“Oh…” he says, eyeing the now empty space between you, glancing at you in askance as he sits down.

“It was in the way.” You say, cheeks heating as he nods slowly, and you catch the cute little eye twitch as he settles into the couch.  

“Ready?” He asks, side eyeing you as you adjust so you’re a bit closer to him.

“Yep.” You nod, trying to act nonchalant.

It’s slow, but as you make your way through the next hour-long episode, you find yourself bumping his knee with yours when you exclaim about what is going on.

Leaning in as you laugh, turning to see if his reaction matches your own.

Little by little the distance closes before your shoulder is brushing his, his deep throaty laughter evoking little tummy trembles.

And before you know it, you’re more focused on his facial expressions, his little grunts of surprise, the way his lips turn down as he finds something displeasing on the screen.  

Swallowing heavily, you reach out to brush an errant strand of hair back, causing him to freeze in place.

“Oh…sorry…you just…I-”  

“It’s fine.” He says, his eyes no longer taking in the show as his gaze sweeps over you.  

Your breath hitches a bit as you watch his adam’s apple bob, swallowing as  he licks his lips and clears his throat.

Brushing the strand back, you catch his dark gaze as it lingers on your lips, causing your stomach to flip.

He winces as he meets your eyes, clucking his tongue in that adorable way he does.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He asks, his voice a bit deeper and softer than normal and you can only nod as your fingers linger on the soft strands of his hair.

Somehow you’ve moved directly beside him, and you find yourself wondering what the exact distance is between his mouth and yours.

He clears his throat once more as he watches your gaze drop to his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.  

“I am.” You respond softly, your eyes just taking in the entirety of his face this close, unable to resist rubbing the silken strands between your fingertips.  

“Are you?” You ask after a long pause, the voices on the television fading into the background as you hear your heart thump in your chest.

How long had it been since you’d kissed someone? you wonder.

Since someone touched you in ways that were anything but friendly?

Feeling almost starved, you blush as you watch your hand tremble as you tuck his hair, your fingertips skimming the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, his hand is around your wrist, gently halting your motion as he studies your eyes.

“I don’t mean to sound…rude but…” He halts as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his lashes fluttering as he appears to calm himself.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing right now?” He asks huskily, the timbre of his voice seeming to tickle something so deep within you that the very awareness of it is enough to cause you to squirm.

You hesitate to answer him, but not because you’re unsure of your response.

No, you need him to know that you’re very much aware.

Holding his gaze, your teeth capture your bottom lip as you nod slowly, intentionally.

“Good.” He grates out.

Within the next breath, the distance is bridged and his lips are capturing yours, the fingers around your wrist loosening as they trail down your forearm.

You don’t even have time to feel ashamed of the needy moan that gets lost in the depths of his mouth, because he’s too busy slipping his fingers up into your hair, kneading your scalp as his lips quiver against yours.

The show is forgotten as you both cling to one another, his free arm slipping around you to tug you closer.

Your fingers finally delve into the long, satin strands of hair that have been tempting you for weeks.

It’s a shock and yet not surprising at all when your hand slips over his back, across his shoulders and you feel the taut muscles bunching as he slowly pulls you ever closer to him.

You’re not even sure which noises are his and which are yours as you allow, no, you encourage him to tug you halfway onto his lap.  

Before you know it, you’re looking down at him, your fingers skimming his cheek as your lips part and meet, again and again with hot breathy sighs and groans.

“Yoongi-” You breathe out, and you can’t help but flush with shame at the desperation in your wavering voice.

He freezes suddenly at the sound of his name, unsure as he pulls back to check on you.  

The whine that escapes you as he withdraws causes his eyes to widen with concern, misunderstanding the meaning behind the embarrassing noise.  

“Too much-?” 

Unable to stop yourself, you straddle him properly, one thigh on either side of his, crushing your mouth to his as you cut off his sentence.

“No-” you manage as his hands immediately grasp your hips, a soft groan escaping him as you cup his face.  

It’s as if every touch of his is burning a trail along your body as his palms skim up your sides, sliding around your back, then down to cup your ass.  

Your head is swimming with the sensation overload as you roll your hips against him, finally realizing how very hard he is.  

Heat pools in your abdomen as his fingers knead your plush ass, his tongue dancing delicately over yours between his breathy groans.  

Your hand slips between you, a sudden need causing you to tug at the button of his jeans.  

Belatedly, you register how his body freezes, his hands gripping you to still you as he slows the kiss.

Drawing back, you swallow harshly, doing your best to not cry out at the loss of his lips on yours.  

His dark, anxious eyes study you as he brings a hand up to trace your cheek, and it takes you a moment to realize that those gorgeous lips are moving, that he’s speaking to you.

“Hey…woah…let’s slow down for a moment…” 

His voice sounds almost pained, gravelly and hoarse as he clears his throat.

“Yoongi?” You ask softly, concerned that you may have pushed him a bit too far, that maybe he doesn't want this.

He clears his throat again, eyes darting down to your lips before he looks away.

Yet he keeps you seated right there in his lap as he finally manages to get his words out.

“Let’s talk before…” His thumb caresses your cheek gently and you can feel his body shudder under yours as you blink at him.  

Nodding, you take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation and need within you in order to clear your mind.

“As much as I want you…want this…we should have a conversation.” He continues, finally meeting your eyes once more, “I don’t want to rush into anything either of us will regret.”

You process his words slowly, chest heaving as you do your best to calm yourself.  

The emotions that had gradually been building for him over this past month seem to evolve at his care for you, making your next words hold even more weight.

You slip your fingers into his hair, brushing it back as you admire the man you’d come to see as much more than a friend.  

“Yoongi…I like you, too.” You manage, your voice hoarse with the need you’ve pushed back for the moment.  

His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips parting with the tiniest little gasp as you smile softly at him.

“I want you…I want this. I want…more.” 

His eyelashes flutter at your words, eyes closing slowly as if he’s savoring the meaning behind them, the gravity of them.

“Are you sure? I don’t want something casual. We both deserve more than that.” He says before opening those deep chocolate eyes to observe you, gauging your reaction closely.

Without hesitation, you nod, running your thumb over his beautiful lashes.  

“I wouldn’t do that to you or myself, Yoongi.  I don’t want a pillow between us anymore.” You whisper, leaning down to brush your lips over his.  “I wouldn’t have removed it if I wasn’t ready for this. For us.” 

Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, curling your lips gently as his arm slips around your waist to hold you close.

“What about…Hoseok?” He whispers hesitantly, apprehension written all over his face.  

You knew this would come up, and it’s all that’s been on your mind over the weeks since he’d confessed.

Emotions are so complicated and slippery, especially when nothing is clear, when all you have is doubts and nothing is ever communicated.  

He watches patiently as you try to think of how to communicate the choice you’ve made properly to him, so he won’t think this is a rash decision on your part.

“I’ve had years to process those emotions, and nothing has ever come of it.  Perhaps it’s because I never communicated them properly, or maybe I just didn’t have the courage to face the rejection.” 

You smile fondly at him as he listens intently, your heart stuttering at the complete open trust and acceptance in his eyes.  

“Honestly, I’ve been blinded by my own wants and needs for so long with him, yet I never took the time to find out how he felt.  He’s my friend, and that will never change.  As much as it hurt to hear how he truly felt about me, I needed that. I can’t be even remotely mad or upset with him, as it’s me who was hurting myself all this time.”

“What I feel, or felt for Hoseok has nothing to do with you and I.  It’s a fleeting possibility that I spent far too long being preoccupied with.  I didn’t need the time I asked for just to solidify how I felt about you, Yoongi.” 

As you speak, you can feel the confidence and determination in your words as he holds you close, giving you the courage to continue.

“I wanted to make sure that when and if I was able to take this step with you, I would be giving you all of me.  Not just fragments warring with an unrequited crush for someone else.  I’m laying that part of me to rest, even if you decide that you want to stop right here.  That you want to just stay friends-”

The limbo you’ve both been suspended in seems to pop like a bubble as he suddenly flips you on your back, drawing out a small surprised cry from you.

“That’s all I need to hear.” He growls, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

The force behind it has your teeth digging into his lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth desperately as you meet his need with your own.  

Clinging to the soft fabric of his sweater, your legs slip around his thighs as he presses you into the couch with his hips.

His erection is even more prominent in this position as he presses wet kisses along your jaw, his hands slipping down to slip under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

Soft cries leave your parted lips as he rolls his hips, your already damp panties starting to soak through as he grinds against you.  

“I don’t want to be just friends.” The heat of his breath brushing over your neck causes you to shiver, your fingers grasping frantically at his sweater until your fingertips meet the hem, slipping your hands up his naked back.

“Give me all of you.” The rough timbre of his voice alone has you arching your back as he helps you yank his sweater over his head, tossing carelessly to the side.

The sight of him bare chested, hovering over you with that long hair hanging down almost undoes you right there and then.  

Placing your hands on his stomach, you run your palms slowly upwards, enjoying each and every twitch and spasm you extract.  

The way he bites his lip, the soft, throaty gasps.

How his eyes seem to darken to onyx in lust.

Pushing against him, you sit up as you slip your hands up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms.  

Without uttering a word, you take his hand and tug him up, leading him to the darkened doorway of your room.  

As you reach the edge of your bed, he spins you around, tugging your shirt over your head before crushing his mouth against yours once more.

Your head spins from his familiar fragrance of warm spice and tobacco from his cologne, reveling in the fact that he’s covering you in his scent.

Rough calluses brush against your bare flesh, his hands eager yet gentle as he explores you as if they’re dying of thirst and your body is the only thing that can sustain him.  

He reacts to each soft whimper, every drawn out moan with his own, heightening the ache between your legs as he backs you towards the bed.

Your nails graze lightly down his back as his teeth nip the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue laving at the tiny marks he’s leaving behind.  

“Harder.” he commands, his hands finally slipping down to grab handfuls of your ass to press you into him.  

Without even having to question what he means, you dig your nails into the skin of his back, raking them harshly down his skin to leave angry red lines behind.  

The room upends as he topples you onto the firm mattress, clinging to one another as you tug and pull, your hands finally making their way back to the button of his pants.

This time he doesn’t stop you, propping himself up to watch as you yank and unzip, pushing down the material keeping him from you.

His ragged panting fills the air around you as he helps you kick them off along with his boxers, your stomach tightening as you encircle his cock as it springs out.  

“Oh fuck-” He grunts, hips jerking forward as you stroke along the length.

Before you can respond, he’s returning the favor, yanking off your pants, leaving you only in your bra and panties beneath him.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful-” his voice is coarse as he rakes his gaze over you, dipping down to press his face between your breasts to inhale you.

“Yoongi…” You whimper, shivering as his hair tickles your sensitive skin as your hands slip around his back to stroke over the harsh marks you’ve left.  

He settles his weight on you, his hips dragging the underside of his dick along your panties as he palms your breasts through the fabric of your bra.  

“So soft..” He mumbles, tugging down the lace harshly and at this point, you don’t give a damn if he’s torn it.  

His words contrast with the feel of him against you, stiff, thick and throbbing as you soak through your panties with every motion he makes. 

“Yoongi, oh my god-you’re driving me-insane-” You manage to stutter as he wraps his lips around your taut nipple, suckling gently as he gazes up at your flushed face.

Your fingers find their way back into his hair, grasping desperately as he grins, his eyes shining with delight, your other hand clinging to his shoulder for dear life.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, slowly kissing his way along the valley of your tits, making his way over to give the other fair treatment.

His warm breath tickles your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath as he laughs softly at how you’re reacting to him.

“Lose your mind then, love.  I’ve been losing mine over you for years.” 

He punctuates the words with a harsh suck as he claims your other nipple, causing your back to arch for him, digging your nails into his shoulder as you tug at his hair.  

Your eyes roll as he circles his tongue around the tightened bud, his eyes never leaving your face as the ache between your thighs throbs with need at his every touch.  

Years…

You’ve seen many sides of Min Yoongi but nothing compares to the sheer control he has right now, all while holding back the desperate need you can see in his stare.

Your cries grow louder as he reaches between you, his strong hand gripping the side of your panties and ripping the flimsy material, flinging them to the side. 

The moment your panties are gone, his fingers are slipping between your lower lips, parting them as he lets out a soft, deep whimper of his own.   

You barely register his hand slipping behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra to tug off the now damaged garment.

Your mind is consumed by how deftly his fingers tease at your core, his thumb honing in on your sensitive clit.

“You’re so gorgeous like this…” he rasps out, eyes hooded as he watches you arch your back as he gently circles his thumb, licking his lips as his breathing becomes even more ragged.

Choking back a moan, you writhe under his palm as he teases a fingertip into you before pulling back to rake his eyes over your naked form.  

The tightness in your stomach builds as you shudder beneath him, yanking harshly on the hair clenched in your fist.  

The moment he flashes that sexy lopsided smile, you can’t hold back anymore.  

The last thing you want to do is lie here losing your mind when he looks far too in control.  

“Min Yoongi, if you aren’t buried deep inside of me in the next ten seconds-”

Your words are punctuated by another tug of his hair, your legs slipping around his thighs, hips tilting to offer yourself up to him in desperation.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth is on yours once more, his fingers parting from you to guide the head of his cock against your aching entrance.

He lets out a shuddering breath against your lips, a soft groan building in his throat as you feel him start to sink into your warmth.  

He brings his hand up to cup your face as he slowly fills you, the sound of your name on his lips swallowed up as you deepen the kiss.  

You gasp as you feel yourself clench around him, your body already shaking beneath him as he draws back just to thrust forward once more.  

“Fuck-!” he growls as his lips leave yours, looking down between you to watch his cock delve into you, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” 

All you can muster is a moan, then a sharp gasp as he pulls almost all the way out, then thrusts forward suddenly as he bottoms out within you.  

“Yoongi!” you cry out, wet noises filling the room as he starts snapping his hips into you, setting a hard but steady pace.

All you can do is watch his face as he fucks you, that gorgeous dark hair dangling above you as he bites his lip in concentration.  

“Look at me.” you demand between moans, drawing his attention back to you.  

His eyes flick up to your face, then rake down your body and back up as the force of his thrusts cause your body to shake beneath him.  

“I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you, fuck you feel so good-” He moans as he dips down to reclaim your lips.  

“Don’t fucking stop-” you whimper between kisses, and he only responds by grasping your wrist and pinning it over your head.  

His mouth leaves yours, hot breath skimming over your chin, then your neck as he kisses and licks his way over to your ear.  

“Do you like it when I fuck your pretty little pussy?” He growls, the deep tone of his voice sending a shock through your body alone.  

His pace quickens as you tighten around him, your moans and whimpers only encouraging him as you begin to feel the familiar need building in your abdomen.  

“Fuck, yes, Yoongi! Harder!” you scream, the heat of his breath, the sounds of his guttural moans vibrating in your eardrum pushing you closer and closer to tipping over that precipice.

Your back arches, angling your hips so that he’s hitting your sensitive clit with each thrust as his cries grow louder, melding with your own. 

The sound of your name in your ear almost undoes you, and you let out a choked scream as he draws back to look down at you.  

“So close-” you gasp as he releases your wrist, threading his fingers with yours above your head.  

“Yeah, baby? Gonna come for me?” he rasps out as he watches your face contort with every motion.

You nod your head frantically, feeling as if you’re balanced on a tightwire and all you want to do is fall off.  

You can feel his entire body quaking as he continues to speak, the sexiest filth dripping from his lips in that rich deep voice.  

“Let me feel you come around my cock, baby, that’s it.  You’re all mine, all fucking mine, and I’m all yours-fuck! God, your cunt is perfect, so tight and wet, I just want to fill you full-”

Each word is like a nudge, and finally the sensation that’s been bubbling up within you this entire time seems to erupt from every single cell in your body as you finally tip over the edge.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” is all your brain can manage as your orgasm crashes into you, clenching tightly around him as your body lifts from the bed.

Your strangled cries are met with his own, ripped from his throat as his eyes widen, his lips parting in an “o” as he throws his head back and thrusts forward once more.

A warm burst fills you as his whole body tenses above you, trying your hardest to watch him fall apart along with you.  

The ringing in your ears starts to fade, and the only sounds in the room are your combined labored breathing as he slowly lowers himself down to nuzzle his face into your neck.  

You gasp as you involuntarily clench around him, a hoarse moan escaping him as he slowly gives you a few small thrusts as he finally empties himself deep inside of you.

Swallowing harshly, you do your best to catch your breath as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.

You’re both covered in sweat, you think, a small smile curling your lips as you close your eyes and bask in the after effects of your joining.

“Fuck.” Yoongi grumbles into your neck, his lips dancing over your sticky skin.  

“Mhm.” you agree, humming softly.  

Floating through the haze of bliss, you finally open your eyes as you feel him draw back, withdrawing from you to leave a wet mess seeping out.  

Your eyes meet his and he just gives you a sleepy smile as you continue to run your fingers through the strands of his hair.  

He rolls you both to the side, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you softly, no words spoken for what seems like eternity.

No words are really needed, just soft touches, kisses, little smiles and laughs as your eyes meet.

The sun starts to creep through the blinds before he finally whispers that he will return in a moment, leaving you only long enough to bring back a warm cloth to clean you up a bit.  

Blushing slightly, you help do the same for him, tossing the cloth into the laundry before you settle back into his arms.  

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lets out a long breath.

“You’re not leaving yet, right? You’ll stay for a bit?” You ask him, finally breaking the silence as the birds sing outside the window.

He laughs softly, propping himself up to look down at you with an eyebrow raised.  

“Of course I’m not just leaving…unless you’re kicking me out?” He responds, biting his lip as he runs his finger along your shoulder.  

You snort, shaking your head, “Sorry, no.  You told me you’re all mine so I think I may just keep you.”  

You do your best to keep a straight face, failing horribly as he feigns shock, his brows drawing together adorably as he protests.

“You think?!” he teases, sliding his arm around you to pull you closer, rolling you both so you’re on top of him.  

“Hmm…” you straddle his hips, brushing back his dark strands as you admire the handsome man beneath you, “I can be convinced…”

He gives you that familiar gummy smile you love so much before he’s growling out your name, tugging your mouth to his as he laughs.  

“Oh, really? I’m actually quite good at pleading my case…” he hums as his hands slip down to take two handfuls of your ass.  

“By all means-”

It’s midday by the time you both manage to uncling to one another.

“I shouldn’t have let you shower with me…” you hum as you make coffee, shaking your head as you feel his arms wrap around you from behind.  

“Well, we were just conserving water…” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle as you contemplate what to make for an early dinner.

By the time you get around you checking your phone, you sigh at the many missed messages and calls.

“I think Hoseok is going to send the police to my house.” you tell Yoongi as you both sit down to finally eat something.  

He just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gestures to your phone.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet, honestly.” He grumbles, taking a bite as you read through your messages.

“Well that would be a fun conversation…” you hum, biting your lip as you contemplate how that is going to go over with everyone.

“Speaking of…” Yoongi says, placing his utensils down as he leans back to look at you.

You glance at him, knowing what he’s thinking. 

“Should probably leave that to me.” You tell him before he can continue.

Feeling suddenly shy, you clear your throat as you look over at him.

He’s only wearing a pair of your sweats, his naked shoulders and chest distracting you as you try to think of your next words.  

“We are…together ... .like…” you gesture with your hands, embarrassed at asking. 

He only blinks at you, shock on his face before he is leaning forward and taking your hand.  

“Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, an amused lopsided smile growing on his face at how flustered you are.

You just slap his hand, but then slip your fingers through his, nodding shyly.  

“Yes, baby.  I told you last night…I want you.  All of you.”  he whispers.

Your eyes meet his and you can only blush, your cheeks heating at his words.  

“You have me, then.  All of me.” you tell him.  

“Where the fuck is she?” Hoseok mutters, doing his best to contain the rising panic as he makes his way to your apartment building.  

Checking his phone for the hundredth time since last night, he sighs.  

Over the last month, it feels as if you’ve been withdrawing more and more, but you still respond to his messages.

If he’s being honest, it didn’t feel very good.

All he can think of is the comments everyone has been making.  

What if she does end up dating?

What if she has someone she likes?

Hoseok can only frown as he finally gets in the elevator to take him up to see you.

Of course, that would eventually happen.

Someone she’s interested in, other than me, he thinks.

The idea is so completely foreign, he has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.  

More important than me?

Shaking off the thought and this feeling of discontent it brings, he pushes himself off the side of the elevator wall as the doors open.

Making his way down your hallway, he glances up as your door opens, a sense of relief filling him as he hears your familiar laugh.

That relief is short-lived as he hears a man’s voice responding to your voice.

Not just any man’s voice-

He stops in shock as he watches you emerge from your apartment, hand in hand with another man.

He can’t make out the words, but his heart seems to drop into his stomach as he recognizes the owner of the hand in yours.

Min Yoongi.

Fucking Min Yoongi…holding your hand.

The hand holding his phone clenches tightly as he watches his friend lean in and brush your hair back, your eyes seeming to dance with happiness as you gaze at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he hears faintly as he watches you nod to him.

“Tomorrow.” he hears your voice respond.

The world seems to stop as he watches two of his closest friends lean towards each other and kiss.

“No way…” he whispers, but it’s not amusement or happiness at watching two obvious lovers leaving one another.

No…against everything that is logical, he feels a burning rage and betrayal building deep in his stomach.

Before he can even process it, he’s turning on his heel, making his way to the emergency stairs and rushing down and out of the building before either of you notice him.

His phone starts to buzz as he makes his way home, and he sends it to voicemail immediately.

He can’t even form the words to say to you right now.

Not while he’s feeling like this.  

Whatever this was.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 3

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: another part out! it's a tad bit lengthy, so sorry about that! i also wanna apologize about how crazy the taglist looks (im so sorry). it wasnt letting me tag yall so i just spaced it out to make sure yall get alerted. if anyone has advise on how to fix that, pls let me know

all parts: pt.1, pt.2,

December | Tokyo, Japan | 4:45 A.M

It was finally Thursday, and you were spending your early morning tangoing with your vacuum. 

Despite doing a deep clean yesterday after work, your paranoia was over the roof. Nanami’s visit consumed you like a parasite, with nothing relieving your nerves. Even the sun could not bear witness to your franticness as you long turned on all the lights and began your cleaning venture. You didn’t want to risk Nanami calling you a slob if he saw even one wrapper on the floor. Nanami was quite the meticulous man after all, his eyes containing radars for this kind of stuff. 

As you began to dust your already dusted coffee table, you quickly grabbed your phone and dialed Haibara’s number. After a few rings, you hear a click and  groaning sound. “Nnnmmm… who?” He barely whispers. 

“Yu, get up!” You hiss. Haibara and you have long established your friendship, backing up your ability to drop honorifics. “I need your help, and now.” 

“Y/N?” He groans out. You hear some shuffling before a long period of silence. You continue to clean while Haibara tries waking up again. “It’s not even 6… why?” Though his voice was deep and hoarse from exhaustion, he sounded nothing less than a child complaining about waking up early to go to school. 

You huff, “don’t you remember? I texted you after work that Nanami is coming to my house today– in like an hour!” 

“‘n why does this have to do with me?” His voice sounded scratchy from the speaker of the phone. 

“What should I do? What kind of couches does he like? House smells?” 

“Y/N, it’s too early for this,” Haibara says through a yawn. “You wouldn’t even be able to buy another couch, even if you wanted to. No furniture store is open at this time.” 

You try to continue the conversation, but you were met with snores in response. Hanging up the phone, you let out a sigh. Nanami was coming over for work, not to criticize your home designing choices. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your cheeks tingle from embarrassment. “What am I doing?” You murmur to yourself. There truly was no need to be nervous. This was not a date. 

Even so… 

You spent the rest of your morning prior to your shift making sure you looked nice. You style your hair neatly, drape on a comfortable jumpsuit (despite Nanami’s comforting words in regards to you wearing pajamas during his visit), and begin working on coffee. You had managed to ask Tae (your newly hired corporate barista) for some instruction on how he makes Nanami’s favorite coffee. You certainly questioned the ingredients and methods, but you continued to follow the instructions. As you were pouring skimmed milk into black coffee, a gentle knock was heard at your front door. 

Your heart threatened to escape against your chest. You quickly give yourself a look in your hallway mirror before rushing to the door. Shaky hands sheepishly unlock the door, introducing you to a Nanami you have never seen before. 

Here he was before you, in a trenchcoat, black crewneck and black joggers. His eyes revealed his true exhaustion, with his under eyes slightly darker than usual. His hair was not parted from the side, but rather slicked back and wet as you assumed he showered before arriving at your place. True to the weather, his cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. You saw him let out a relieving sigh when introduced to the warmth of your home. 

“Goodmorning Y/N,” Nanami hums, his voice hoarse from not being 100% awake. His hands were loaded with his briefcase and a big bag. Judging from the smell, it was the breakfast that Nanami promised he’d buy. 

Your mouth felt dry in awe, “good morning to you as well, Nanami. Let me take your coat for you.” 

“Ah, I’d hate to get your hands cold,” Nanami waives your offer. He puts down his things gently, being mindful of the breakfast. He begins to strip off his coat, and carefully hangs it on the rack by the door. “It’s unforgiving out there.” 

There were snowflakes on his eyelashes, “is it snowing hard out there? I haven’t pulled the curtains yet.” 

Nanami smiles and nods, giving his head a little shake to remove the remaining snow from his head, “I’m glad I didn’t invite you to my house instead. Otherwise, you’d be freezing like me.” 

You burn up, and quickly gesture to the slippers on the floor. “P-please feel free to get comfortable in the living room! I have the heat in there.”

He bows curtly, “thank you for having me.” You watch as the tall man walks towards your living room, taking a seat on the bigger of the two couches. You rush into your room and retrieve two blankets. Joining Nanami in the living room, you offer him your warmest quilt. 

“This’ll keep you warm while you’re here,” you hum. Nanami takes your offer and spreads the blanket over his legs. You see him shiver a bit before getting cozy in the blanket. 

“You’re too kind of a host,” Nanami expresses his gratitude once more. He then eyes around before chuckling, “ah, I left our breakfast and my laptop at the front–” 

“I’ll get it!” You jump at your words, quickly retrieving the items. You pass him his briefcase, and take the breakfast to your kitchen counter. “I wrote my wifi password on the table, please feel free to connect to it. A-and…” 

You walk over to your coffee maker, and lift up the mug of coffee you prepared for him. You carefully hold it with two hands, making a slow walk towards Nanami. He quickly understands, and raises his hands as high and close to yours as possible while remaining seated on the couch. Cold fingertips brush against your knuckles. He holds it delicately, his eyes narrowing down at the froth at the top. “Is this…?” 

“Your favorite coffee,” you say quietly. You look away shyly, hoping he didn’t see your nerves in your face. “I asked our recently hired barista how he usually makes your cup of coffee when I went to offer him the position. And so… yeah.” You shuffle in your place, waiting for Nanami to take a sip. But your nerves get to you first and stab at your calm facade, “andifyoudon’tlikeit,I’llbuyonefromoutside–”

Nanami takes a big swig from the hot brew, his Adams Apple protruding his throat from each gulp. A drip of coffee decorates his bottom lip, threatening to either drop on his pants, or begin its slide down his chin. He puts the mug down on one of the coasters of the coffee table and drags his sleeved wrist against his lips. “Y/N,” he emits slowly. “That was… very delicious.” 

You could melt right then and there. “R-really?” You felt the bubbles in your words. You were practically floating like one! His reassuring smile made your heart skip several beats. “I would never, ever judge you, but I didn’t realize that fig could work with coffee.” 

Nanami smiles warmly, his eyes wistful with nostalgia. He takes out his laptop and turns it on, rubbing the mousepad aimlessly with the tip of his index. “I was addicted to sweets, if that surprises you,” Nanami recounts fondly. “My mom was frustrated, unable to really keep sweets away from me. She was too nice, and would submit whenever I asked for a candy bar at the market.”

You giggle a bit, your hand covering your lips to mask the smile you had. “It’s crazy to think that you, Nanami, would be a sugarhead.” 

Nanami lets out a light chuckle, “surely, I like sweets every now and then. Just… in moderation. My mother was the catalyst for the dent in my sweet tooth. She stopped adding sugar in my tea. Rather, she would add half a fig into my cup, and pour the hot tea over it.” 

From the memory, your body suddenly felt warm and cozy. Imagining the combination of a fresh fig with green tea being poured over it… it was quite soothing. “It sounds like she was a lovely mother,” you hum. Your smile widened when seeing Nanami’s hazel eyes warm from the recollection. “What made you decide to add fig into your coffee instead?” 

Nanami shrugged, “nostalgia, I suppose. It doesn’t offer the coffee much of a sweetener, but you can definitely taste it. I suppose the memory is what makes it sweet.” 

You were floating. Being able to speak to Nanami like this– it felt like everything. You two don’t hang outside of work, besides holiday parties or work trips. Even then, all these activities are imbued with your job. Although Nanami was in your house to work with you, it felt different. The two of you can speak freely without eyes constantly flickering to you. As you were lost in your thoughts, Nanami cleared his throat. 

“Please feel free to clock in and start eating,” Nanami hums. He adjusts the blanket to cover his feet. “Today's work isn’t too crazy, and I’d rather you feel full and awake.” 

You take kindly to his consideration and return to the kitchen. You take a platter plate and begin to unload the bag of breakfast he picked up. You start taking out several breakfast sandwiches, your eyes wide at how many there were in that bag. “Nanami… how many did you get?” You exclaim, holding one sandwich in each hand. He looks over at you and smirks amusingly. 

“I didn’t know what you liked,” Nanami said, his smile still being tickled from your shock. “I just got one of everything.” 

You smile from his smile, and begin to stack the individually stacked sandwiches on the platter. Leaving the one you want on the counter, you bring the sandwiches near him on the coffee table. You look down at his mug, the coffee-soaked half-fig sat in the center of it. “Would you like another cup?” You offer kindly. 

His eyes meet yours, and after a pause, he nods slowly. You grab his mug and go over to the kitchen to prepare another cup. As you did, you decided to make two cups of his favorite coffee. The curiosity picked at you– you wanted to know what Nanami’s favorite coffee tastes like. As you prepared it, Nanami was tapping away at his computer. You tap on your phone to check the time, and realize you need to clock in now. Once you do that, you check your calendar and turn to look at Nanami. 

“You have a meeting in 15 minutes with the head of Sales and Strategy,” you remind him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nanami hums from your couch, “I got so into responding to emails, I definitely would have forgotten. So, thank you again.” 

“Of course!” You chime. With both coffees done, you bring both of the mugs over to the coffee table and quickly go back to fetch your breakfast sandwich. You begin to strip the parchment paper from the sandwich and begin to eat it in the kitchen, with a few crumbs falling on the granite top. You walk over to the smaller sofa and set down your breakfast sandwich. You grab your own laptop from the drawer underneath the coffee table and begin to boot it up. 

You ate while waiting, enjoying the crisp bacon and cheddar cheese in the sandwich. Nanami looks over at you while you quietly dance to yourself. “I assume it’s good?” He begins, a small curve at the end of his lips. Cheeks warm from his words, and you nod while chewing on your bite. He leans over and brings his hand to your face. You froze while you felt his thumb gently rub your chin of all the crumbs you accrued as you ate. “Ah, m’sorry,” Nanami quickly retracts his hand, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable, Y/N.” 

“Ah, it’s okay!” You quickly waive his concerns, “you were just trying to help is all. I appreciate it…” 

Silence ensues between the two of you. But Nanami stopped typing once more to comment on the two mugs. “Did you make yourself a cup of coffee as well? It doesn’t look like what you usually get.” 

You shook your head, “it’s a bit too cold for iced coffee. Plus, I wanted to try your coffee and see what the hype is all about.” 

He smiles sheepishly, “you might not care for it much. It’s a bit too bitter.” 

You shrug, “I’m still curious.” And that same curiosity bit you in the ass. You carefully lift the mug and take a sip, the taste of hot, acrid coffee tormenting your tongue. Quickly placing the mug down, you give Nanami the stink eye. “You… are very brave,” you let out as you take another bite of your sandwich. 

Nanami lets out a genuine laugh, “it isn’t for everyone, truly. But it warms my heart that you were willing to try it.” 

You look over at him, noticing the wistfulness of his eyes. It was worth it, albeit the foul taste. “It tasted much sweeter in my head when you talked about it,” you softly hum. “I’ll… continue to enjoy it vicariously through you.” 

“You’re good with not being mean, Y/N,” Nanami says through another gentle laugh, “I envy that about you a bit.” It was like he was shooting arrows directly at your heart. “A-ah, there’s no need to make everything a bad thing,” you let out nervously. You begin to log into your computer, “just because it’s not for me, doesn’t mean I should make you feel bad.” Nanami agrees with a nod, “you’re absolutely right.” He shifts a bit to get more comfortable in his seat, and looks down to make sure his feet are really covered. When he does, his eyes saunter towards the spare slippers you lent him. “Ah, Y/N, I hope I’m not intruding in you and your partner's space.” 

Where did that come from? “Hm?” You eye him curiously. 

He points down to the slippers, “these slippers are much bigger than your own.” 

“I like to keep a pair for when I have visitors like yourself,” you reason, “but you are absolutely not intruding. I’m… very single.” It felt a bit embarrassing to admit that to your crush, but what can you do? You didn’t want him thinking you were taken when you were readily (hopefully) available for him. 

“I see,” he comments quietly. Keeping his eyes glued to his computer, Nanami continues, “I apologize for even bringing up something sensitive like this.” 

You shake your hand, “it’s completely fine! Honestly, I don’t mind at all.” Fiddling with your thumbs, you look over shyly at your boss, “I’m like an open book so… whatever you are curious about, I don’t mind sharing with you. I trust you… quite a lot, Nanami,” you admit, your face completely hot. 

“And I you, Y/N,” Nanami peels his eyes from his screen to meet your own. “You’ve been nothing but an asset since your transfer, and I couldn’t be more satisfied with your work ethic and capabilities.” 

You look down at your lap, with your hands finding solace on your knees. “Thank you very much,” you reply humbly, “but I wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t under your guidance. I feel like I’ve progressed much faster within the company since becoming your assistant. I don’t say this quite enough, but… I’m very grateful to you, Nanami.” 

“You might sway me with your flattery, Y/N,” Nanami teases, “your words are so soft, it feels like you’re confessing.” 

“A-ah?” You exclaim nervously. You knew he was messing around, but it almost feels like… “d-don’t get the wrong idea! I just respect you a lot, is all… nothing more!” 

Hazel eyes narrow down at your face, and Nanami lets out a sigh of relief. He hovers his hand over his chest, closing his eyes in bliss. “That’s actually quite relieving to hear,” Nanami hums. Relieving? 

“Hm?” You asked, “what do you mean?” What were you missing?

“Ah no,” Nanami begins to smile again, “I had caught wind of a rumor that I was gullible enough to believe a bit. It made it quite nervous, truth be told. But you’ve now confirmed that it was nothing more than a silly rumor.” 

“A rumor?” You felt your body go cold. 

Nanami nods, while replying to emails once again, “I overheard some of our coworkers rumor mongering. Along the lines of you having feelings towards me beyond friendly ones. But I’m glad it turned out to be false.” 

Fingertips felt like ice, and your heart transformed into glass. It shattered moments after Nanami’s words. Everything that you adored about this man was quickly turning ugly. The idealization of your boss was crumbling, with your feelings following suit. This confirmed that your crush wasn’t light– it was deep and sincere. He broke your heart while head on with your adoration. Haibara’s warnings begin to taunt your mind while your sane mind tries to tend to your heart. 

You didn’t even get the chance to confess.

He practically threw away all of your efforts. Every time you would get him coffee so he didn’t have to get it himself. Keeping the staff in check constantly so he needn’t ever worry about the progress of the department. Always organizing all of his meetings and attending to things that were considered miniscule to him. Getting the new barista hired so he could enjoy his beloved coffee within the office. Memorizing all the goods that trigger his childhood sweet tooth. 

Your throat felt tight, with your chest feeling even tighter. Tears were threatening to gloss your eyes, with the power in your hands going weak. Your body was ready to go numb, and you wished nothing more than to ask Nanami to leave your home. But work just started, and you couldn’t just kick him out in the middle of his shift.

Your feelings were hurt, but you couldn’t afford being unprofessional. You nod, “just a silly rumor.” 

You put down the breakfast sandwich, as a wave of nausea quickly entered your system. You grab your mug of coffee and your laptop. Rushing over to the kitchen, you toss out the remainder of the bitter coffee and begin to make your way to your bedroom. Nanami caught light of your stride and looked up at you, eyes asking where you were off to. 

“I have a meeting as well,” you force out, “it’s confidential.” 

“Ah, right,” Nanami accepts. “I understand. Take your time, and good luck.” He looks back at his laptop, not missing a single beat when returning to his emails. 

With that lie, you close the door behind you, run into your closet, and allow your tears to pour out. Drops spill onto your keys, but you didn’t care. Helpless hands wipe away your tears, only to find futility in its efforts. In your silent woe, you let out your own sigh of relief, despite your pain-filled cry. 

You no longer had to torture yourself with the what-if’s. You no longer had to wonder what it would be like to be Nanami’s girlfriend. Your crush was at the end of its road. 

With a struggle (through tearful lenses), you take out your phone, scroll through your messages and tap on Haibara's name.

Taglist:

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw

[lalacliffthorne]

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃

Azriel x Reader

summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.

notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!

so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there's smut. steamy steamy smut.

______________________________________________________________

the basic rules of friendship

no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).

Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn't convey my current thoughts.

Someone help me.

" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.

Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being a matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.

The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.

But it just didn't click.

There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.

There was just something missing.

The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -

Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.

But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.

Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering over me.

Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.

The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.

"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.

I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.

Though he did look very uncomfortable.

"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.

One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.

"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.

The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.

And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.

The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide -

Hastily, I widened my eyes.

"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."

The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.

"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.

"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.

"Is there? Something wrong with me?"

Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.

I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"

Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes flickered over mine for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.

Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"

Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."

I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.

Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."

I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.

"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."

no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.

“What the fuck was that?”

The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.

Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“

“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“

“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”

“And you didn't!” Azriel's voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave; you could've fucking died!”

“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared up at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.

“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”

Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.

“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.

“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing! You fucking asshole!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.

“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.

Everything.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.

“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.

“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.

“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.

no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.

That was it.

Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.

Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-

I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and my eyes widening. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.

Azriel raised a brow at me.

“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his amber eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.

Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.

Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.

Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.

Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.

“No, wait –“

The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.

My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.

“Are you serious?”

Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”

I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.

“All set?”

Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple, causing something to flutter gently against my throat, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my chest.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his collarbone and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Alright, ready.”

There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.

I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.

“We're walking?”

From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.

“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”

I raised my head quickly to glower at him.

“That was one time."

"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.

I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.

“Unlikely.”

I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”

“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”

I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.

Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.

The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.

“What?”

I shrugged.

“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.

Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –

One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.

“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“

The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.

Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.

I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.

“I really don't like you."

no. 4: friends spend quality time together.

Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.

My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -

Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.

My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.

"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"

Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.

The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.

The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.

But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, the dark lashes framing his eyes under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his bare chest was, pressed against mine.

My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.

I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.

Right under my ass.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who had suddenly frozen beneath me as my heart thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.

"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.

The next second, I was pushed to the side, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.

"Got you."

I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling over his flared wings. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.

I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.

no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).

Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.

My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -

My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.

My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.

A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.

There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.

"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."

Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.

"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.

There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.

There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.

Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.

Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.

His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.

no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).

Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently pressing against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly against the steps as the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinked softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.

It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.

Hopefully the latter.

Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.

"Are you ready?"

Ready as ever.

"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."

Good. Feeling my lips quirk when I heard her chuckle, I raised my head.

My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.

Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.

"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve into a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last steps.

Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.

My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.

Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.

The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.

Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.

Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.

His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest.

The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.

Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.

With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.

Feyre stilled for just a second as her eyes flickered over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows.

"You two ready?"

Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.

The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to her either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.

His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.

Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.

"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.

Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.

Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.

"You look hot."

I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."

Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.

no. 7: friends don't kiss.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.

He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.

Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."

Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.

Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.

"What are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.

"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can't sleep."

I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."

Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."

"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.

Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.

"Oh, shut up."

The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.

Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.

I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.

Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips curve softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.

Golden eyes stared into mine, lips parted just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.

The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.

I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.

Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.

All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.

That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.

And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.

Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.

"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."

My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."

Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -

His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"

I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.

no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.

My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him alive, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.

A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.

Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.

My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.

My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.

It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.

It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.

A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and my lips parted, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, amber iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen.

A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.

I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.

My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.

My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -

Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.

I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.

I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.

My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.

My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press hard kisses against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.

A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.

His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.

Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.

My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.

My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.

My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.

My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.

Azriel moved like a male starving, devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.

Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –

His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn't quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.

The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips part at the sight of him.

My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –

The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.

My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.

My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -

My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumbled growl, the shadowsinger pulled away.

My heart missed a beat, another.

Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.

The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.

Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -

The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -

Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"

A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.

I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.

My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -

A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.

My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.

My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -

My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.

Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.

Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -

My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.

A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips part when it caused him to slide inside of me.

Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.

Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core.

With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together.

His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.

Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Azriel groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.

His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.

no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.

When I woke up, Azriel was gone.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.

I couldn't have been asleep for long.

A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.

The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.

On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.

Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran his hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"

Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.

I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.

Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.

"You?"

Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.

Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."

Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.

I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.

"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"

I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.

Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.

And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Shit.

"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.

"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"

The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like the tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.

"Push what away?"

Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.

Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.

Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"

I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.

"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.

"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"

Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.

Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.

Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."

A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.

"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.

"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."

My breath caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."

I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."

I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.

My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.

"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."

My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.

"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.

I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.

"Now what?"

Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.

"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."

no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.

(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92

[beauty-brains-braun]

Better

Hawks wants to get back together. Your best friend Bakugo has some thoughts on that.

mdni 18+

Pairings: Bakugo/fem reader, mentioned Past Hawks/ fem reader

Tags/TW:  Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Jealousy

Your eyes tracked Keigo as he crossed the bar, stopping every few seconds to chat with one person or another. He hadn't spotted you yet. You'd really like to be looking elsewhere once he did but you couldn't seem to look away.

If you’d known he’d be here, you would have stayed home. Shouldn’t he have been off being an asshole somewhere else? How could he possibly fit this party into his busy schedule of preening and backstabbing? His head started to turn in your direction and you looked away so fast you felt your neck pop.

Katsuki Bakugo was sneering at you when you looked his way. “When are you going to get over that loser?”

“I am over him. He just infuriates me.” You lean a little closer to your best friend. “You wouldn’t be interested in flirting with me real quick though, by any chance?”

He snorted so hard, he almost choked on his beer. “No chance in hell, you better find Kirashima.”

You put your hand on his arm and laughed a touch too loudly, leaning against him. Kiri was not going to get the job done, Keigo had always been insanely jealous of your friendship with Katsuki and what would truly heal you was pissing the feathered man off.

“You have got to be joking.” Katsuki said, blinking incredulously. “This is you flirting? How do you keep finding boyfriends?” He held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe this is exactly why you only date losers.”

“Ouch” You put your hand to your chest. “Let’s walk that back several feet. I am excellent at flirting, I just usually have a partner who gives me something to work with.”

“You want something to work with?” He asked, setting down his beer.

“It would be ni-” You were cut off as he pulled from your stool, and spun you so your back touched the bar. You blinked rapidly in shock as your eyes met his crimson pair, sparkling deviously.

Katsuki’s arms brushed against yours where he caged you in and he leaned forwards, placing his mouth next to your ear. “Like this?”

Your throat was suddenly extremely dry and you struggled to respond, eventually just deciding to nod. A mistake because his mouth brushed your skin at the movement and lightning tingled up your spine.

He leaned back, just far enough to see your face, and you noticed his devious expression had been replaced by something else. Something you struggled to recognize.

A throat cleared nearby, startling you both. You looked up to find Keigo standing there, face twisted into a frown and eyes burning with annoyance. You’d forgotten he was even here.

“Keigo. What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asked and you almost smirked at the tone in his voice. Pissing him off had not been hard.

“We are talking, unfortunately.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“Fuck off, Hawks. She’s busy.” Katsuki glared hard at Hawks and the other man’s eyes narrowed in response. You sighed loudly, suddenly annoyed with both of them. They had always hated each other, though in all fairness Katsuki hated anyone higher than him on the hero chart. Privately, you thought he’d pass Hawks soon but the thought had always felt like a betrayal.

“Let’s not start, guys. You’re going to ruin Mina’s birthday. Again. Remember last year’s incident? With the cake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but Keigo turned back to you. “Can we just go outside and talk then? Please. Just for a minute.”

“Fine.” You gave in, too tired to fight him. You’d never been all that good at saying no to him.

“This is not a good idea.” Katsuki growled, turning back to you, arms still caging you in.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, placing your hand on his arm briefly, before moving out of his hold and following Keigo outside.

***********

Forty-five minutes later you were in your shower, letting the hot water wash the day off of your shoulders. You were alone, exhausted, and a little too proud of yourself for successfully holding your ground. Keigo had wanted to get back together but you’d told him no. He’d hurt you too badly. He’d demanded to know if something was going on with you and Katsuki. You told him what you did was none of his damn business anymore. He had made sure of that. After your talk you were left more confident than before that you were over him but you’d just wanted to get out of there so you texted Katsuki and Mina and came home. You were going to have to do some serious groveling to Mina but that was a problem for tomorrow..

You were turning off the water when someone began pounding loudly on your front door. Wrapping a giant towel around yourself, you went to answer it. Confused as to who would be knocking on your door like they’d like to break it down, you pulled it open suddenly, blinking in surprise to find Katsuki standing there, fist flying uselessly through the air as he tried to keep banging on a door that was no longer there.

“Is something wrong??” You looked him over for an injury.

Katsuki glared at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” You asked, confused. “Are you mad I left because-”

“Yes, I’m mad you left! That asshole completely shredded your heart and you still leave with him? Where the fuck is he? I’m going to kick his ass.” Katsuki pushed past you into your apartment and disappeared into your bedroom.

Wait. He thought you’d left with Keigo? You followed him. “Katsuki, no one else is here. Not that it’s any of your business, actually, but I told Keigo to leave me alone.”

“Not my business?” He asked, voice raising slightly. “Who has to hear about it every single time your shitty taste in men comes back to bite you in the ass? Who has spent a decade watching you choose wrong again and again?”

Ouch. Your chest hurt suddenly and you turned away from him. Katsuki had always been there for you and it had never occurred to you that he resented it. “Sorry, I’ll just keep my poor choices to myself from now on.” You tried to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” You turned to look at him, fighting tears.

“I’m saying choose better.” He pulled you closer seconds before his mouth crashed into yours.

The lighting you felt up your spine at the bar earlier returned, this time coursing through your entire body. You were frozen in shock, the last thing you’d ever expected was Katsuki to kiss you.

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you obviously aren’t interested in-”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, pulling him back to you and kissing him this time. He kissed you back immediately, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you as close to him as you could get. His other hand, he brought up to cup your neck and you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. Your nipples hardened and you were suddenly very aware that the only thing you were wearing was a towel.

Katsuki’s mouth left yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and to your neck, making you gasp. “Can I taste you? “ He asked suddenly and heat flared through you. “I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.” His crimson eyes were dark with lust and you found yourself nodding. The sight of him dropping to his knees before you would be cemented into your brain until you died. He reached for the edge of the towel and tugged firmly, eyes drinking you in the moment it dropped away.

“Fuck” he whispered. His fingers brushed your skin, trailing up your legs almost reverently to grasp your legs and spread them. His lips touched your skin, kissing your inner thighs, before he turned his head and his tongue found your clit then snaked down to your entrance, lapping up the juices he found there then returning his attention to your clit until your legs shook and threatened to collapse. He pulled away, looking up into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Katsuki got to his feet and kissed you so deeply, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He moved you both back a few steps and laid you down onto your bed before stepping back and removing his shirt. Your eyes drank in his muscles greedily and then he removed his pants. Your eyes dipped lower and widened at the sight of his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips which were suddenly so so dry and Katsuki let out a low groan at the sight before he was back on top of you. His mouth was everywhere. On your mouth, your neck, then your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting lightly while his fingers push into you, stretching you around them. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach until you snapped, cumming around his fingers.

He removed his fingers quickly replacing them with the head of his cock. He put his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices from them as he slowly pushed inside you.

“Fuck” he grunted, head dropping to rest on your shoulder when he bottomed out deep inside you.

“Please” you whined, grinding your hips, needing friction. Needing him to freaking move.

“Hold on, I- fuck- I need a second or this is gonna be over before it starts.” He let out a deep breath then finally pulled back, almost all of the way out of you and thrust back in. “God, you’re perfect. Just for me.” He fucked in and out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot every time. “So wet and tight for me.”

“Katsuki” you whined, feeling amazing but needing more. “Harder please.”

He let out a rough laugh and pulled out of you, drawing a cry of protest from you. “So needy for me, huh?” He flipped you over, pressing your back down into the mattress with one hand and pulling your hips up with the other. He slammed back into you, immediately setting the rough pace you’d desperately needed. “Answer me.”

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, not sure he’d have been able to hear you over the smacking of his hips on your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re sucking me in so good.” His chuckle turns into a moan as your orgasm hits you and your pussy clenches his cock, milking it. He falls forward, hands gripping your sheets as you cum around him and he fights to keep the same pace, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

You dimly register sparks in the corner of your vision and the sound of Katsuki cursing, but can’t concentrate on anything except for the longest, most amazing orgasm of your life. It makes sense for you to see fireworks really. You slowly come down from your high and register the scorched handprints on your sheets and Katsuki pulling out to cum on your thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I- shit.” He’s staring at your sheets in concern but you laugh, pulling him down next to you.

“Worth it.” You tell him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled at you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Should probably go ahead and get a few backup sets while you’re at it.” You teased.

“You think so?” He rolled over, nuzzling into your neck and nibbling at the skin there. “I suppose these are already ruined… We might as well take advantage.”

“Already?” You asked, laughing.

A knock at your door interrupted his reply and you exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe we were too loud?” You suggested but an annoyed knowing look had settled on Katsuki’s face.

He got to his feet, pulling on his boxers on the way to your door.

The sound of Keigo’s voice had you sitting up in surprise. You wrapped the sheet around you and made it to your bedroom door.

Keigo stood in the doorway to your apartment, staring at Katsuki in open mouthed outrage.

“She’s taken.” Katsuki snapped, slamming the door in Keigo’s face before he had time to respond.

Katsuki turned around, smirking when his eyes landed on you. “Now where were we?”

[faithsmadhouse]

Only you|| Lando Norris

Summary — you and Lando are best friends who have feelings for each other

Warnings smut p in v nipple play teasing

Word count 6934

Reposted form my old account which was deleted

You had been friends with Lando for as long as you could remember—back when the world was simpler, and the only thing that mattered was which video game you were going to play or which movie you’d queue up for a late-night marathon. You’d met at the race track a few years ago, and the connection had been instant—easy, comfortable like you’d known each other for years.

But lately, things have been changing. And neither of you was brave enough to address it.

"Hey, you alright?" Lando's voice broke through your thoughts as you fiddled with the edge of your drink, staring into the cup more than you should. He was leaning on the table, casual as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you for just a fraction too long made your stomach flip.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You’ve been kinda off tonight.”

“I’m just... not used to these late nights,” you shrugged, a half-lie, but it was easier than admitting what was going on—your thoughts had become a jumbled mess of *Lando this* and *Lando that*, and you were pretty sure that it wasn’t just a passing phase anymore.

Lando tilted his head, clearly considering pushing further, but he just gave a small nod. “Well, if you need me to kick anyone’s ass for you, just say the word.”

You laughed, trying to shake off the tension. “You’re such a dork, Norris.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two idiots who spent hours arguing about nothing and everything at the same time. But then, for a split second, you saw the way his eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... maybe he wasn’t joking about being there for you.

Lando felt a pang in his chest at your words—it was so obvious you were deflecting, but he couldn’t press any further without giving himself away. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart sped up whenever you were around, the way his skin tingled whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his.

But he couldn’t say anything. There was too much at stake—the friendship you’d built, the comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too good to lose over a silly, confusing crush.

He sipped his drink, trying to act casual, but he could feel the tension growing between you both—awkward, charged, like the air before a storm. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every opening line he could think of sounded wrong in his head.

Instead, he just settled for watching the way your eyes darted around the room, never really focusing on anything for more than a second. You seemed... off, and the fact that you wouldn’t tell him why was eating him alive.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Seriously, you’re sure you’re alright? You can tell me if something’s going on, you know. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at his question, and it sent a pang of anxiety through him. Had he said something wrong? Was he pushing too hard?

You forced another smile, trying to maintain the facade. “Yeah, of course, we’re friends. Just like always,” you said.

Lando’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He had a feeling there was more going on than you were letting on, and the thought was driving him crazy.

He chewed on his lower lip, weighing his words. “Then why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me something? You've been acting weird for a while now—you're not as yourself.”

He waited, studying your reaction. There it was again—that flicker in your eye whenever he mentioned something to do with your behavior.

You swallowed hard, the guilt churning in your stomach. You wanted to tell him—you did. But the words lodged in your throat stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty.

“It's...it's nothing, I promise,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone light.

But Lando wasn’t buying it. He knew you too well at this point—he could read the signs of a lie better than the track maps he studied religiously.

Sighing, Lando set his mug on the coffee table before gently taking yours out of your hand, setting it right next to yours, and holding your hands in his own.

Lando's touch was soft, his eyes fixed intently on yours. The heat from his hands soaked into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “I know something's not right—I can see it, okay? Do you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird around me? And you won't even tell me why.”

You could hear the worry in his voice, see it in the lines of his face. Dammit, you had made Lando Norris worry. Guilt clawed at your chest—you hated that you were the one to cause that look in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight. You wanted to pour out all your feelings right then—about how every touch lately made your skin blaze and how you stayed up at night listening to old voice notes he sent you.

But instead, you just sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just...it’s complicated, okay?”

Lando tilted his head, a silent encouragement to continue. He was listening now, really listening, his gaze never leaving yours. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did tell me I’ll take care of it.” Lando says slightly panicked he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt in some way the whole thought made his stomach upset.

Your heart clenched at his words—he was always so protective, so quick to defend you from any possible harm. The thought of him going to bat for you was both endearing and a little heart-breaking.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise,” you reassured him quickly. This wasn’t what you had been worried about, but somehow, your lie only made you feel worse.

“Then darlin tell me what’s bugging you” he pleaded. There was that nickname again. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your palms start to sweat. You bit your lip, hesitating, wondering if you were ready to bear your soul to him like this.

“It’s…it’s stupid, really,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Lando leaned in closer, a crease forming on his forehead. “Hey, look at me,” he said, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “If it’s bothering you like this, it’s not stupid.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his touch, the soft pressure of his fingertips on your skin. Lando was closer now—so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his normally blue eyes. Somehow, despite everything, your feelings for him had only grown, intensified…and there was no burying it anymore.

“It's...it's you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart racing. It was like once you started, the words just kept coming.

"Every time I'm around you, I just...I feel different. Like, I get all fluttery and nervous, and my brain turns to pudding. And I can't stop thinking about you, and...”

You paused, your words catching in your throat. You hadn't meant to dump it all out like that, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Lando's eyes widened as you spoke, disbelief and surprise warring on his face. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t expected this—to hear that you were going through the same things he was.

For a moment, he just sat there, dumbfounded, his grip on your chin still loose but his touch still there. Then, softly, almost reverently, he breathed a single word. “Me?”

You almost laughed—it was so typical for Lando. Even when you were pouring your heart out, the idiot still found some way to be charming.

“Yes, you,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your nerves. “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Lando chuckled, a soft rumble in his chest, and somehow, you could feel the tension slowly seeping out of the situation.

“I just…I can’t believe it,” he confessed. “I’ve been going crazy over the same thing for months now, I didn’t think you’d…

He trailed off, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and something bordering on awe. You stared at him, your mouth open in surprise. Had he just confessed what you thought he had?

“Wait, back up. You…” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your words coming out in a jumble, “You’ve had a crush on me for months?”

Lando looked sheepish, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he almost winced at the admission, like he expected you to start laughing any moment. “I know, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Every time we hung out or talked, or even just…it was like I’d just lose my mind.”

He huffed a dry laugh, looking down at his hands, “I never thought…I never thought you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest at his words. Lando Norris, the flirty, carefree prince of Formula 1, had a crush on *you*, a normal, average girl. It didn’t seem real.

“God, we’re both idiots,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Lando looked up at you, eyebrows raised, a mixture of amusement and relief on his face. “Why’s that?” he asked, a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Because neither of us had the balls to say anything until now.” Lando barked a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a fair point.”

He glanced sidelong at you, some of the easy confidence returning to his usual swagger. “Although I have to say, I’m still a little surprised you never noticed.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “How was I supposed to notice? You’re a big flirt. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t just another one on your list?”

“I could never let you be just another girl on my list,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and an electric tension envelops the space between you. You can feel your heart racing, each pulse resonating with the intensity of the moment. Lando’s expression is earnest, revealing a vulnerability that makes your breath catch in your throat. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment, where all your past encounters seem to dissolve, and only the possibility of something deeper remains.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, a cacophony of emotion swirling inside. Lando's confession is more than your racing mind can handle. You hadn't expected to hear those words from him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right response, an appropriate reaction to the raw honesty in his eyes. Yet, no words come out. All you can do is sit there, caught between wanting to believe his words and a lingering uncertainty. His eyes are unwavering, fixed on yours, waiting.

Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. He can see the storm of emotions playing over your face, the way your mind is racing to make sense of all this. But he isn’t deterred. For him, this isn’t just another flirty banter, another attempt to charm someone into a night of fun. This is real—the realest he’s ever felt about anything in his life.

He reaches out, his fingertips just barely brushing your cheek. The touch is light, and gentle, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away with too much pressure.

The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. And yet, despite the confusion and surprise, you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost unconsciously.

“I mean it,” Lando says softly as if reading the unspoken doubt in your silence. His eyes are earnest and intense. “I don’t just… I don’t just ‘flirt’ with everyone. You’re… you’re different.”

Your heart clenches at his words, his quiet honesty. Part of you wants to believe him, to take a leap of faith and trust that this isn’t just empty words. But the other part, the part ruled by doubt and fear, keeps you rooted in place.

“How am I different?” you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze. Lando takes a moment to think before answering, his fingers still tracing light circles on your cheek. His touch is soothing, and grounding—a small patch of calm in the whirlpool of emotions.

“You’re different because you’re *you*,” he finally replies, his voice firm, certain. “You’re not just another girl I flirt with. You’ve been my friend forever. You know me better than anyone. And yet, somehow, you still like me. For me, not just for the thrill of it all.”

The words hit you like a wrecking ball, knocking the air right out of your lungs. He was right. You had been more than willing to accept Lando for all his flaws, his quirks, his vices—everything that made him who he was. And somehow, miraculously, he was offering you the same in return.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper, your voice wavering, betraying the lingering threads of doubt. Lando's expression softens, his touch becoming more gentle, more reassuring. “I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, darling,” he admits quietly. “There’ll be rough spots, I know that. But I can promise I’ll be there for you, through all of it.”

He takes a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can promise I’ll try, with everything I’ve got. To make you happy, to keep you safe, to be good for you.” You look up at Lando, your heart in your throat. Everything in you wants to believe in his words, in the sincerity behind his eyes. But the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what the future holds, still whispers doubts in your ear.

“I want to believe you, Lando. I do,” you confess, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of getting hurt, of losing what we already have.”

“I know,” Lando nods, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get it. I’m scared too.”

He takes a moment, swallowing hard. “But I’m also tired. I’m tired of pretending. Tired of dancing around what both of us have been feeling for months now.”

His hand cups your face then, his touch becoming firmer, more certain. “I’m tired of not having you as more than a friend. And I think...I think you are, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You hate that he’s right, hate the way his words resonate deep within you. You had been longing for this for months—years if you were being honest with yourself.

You open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. The fear is still there, the doubts still niggling at the edge of your mind, but now...now they’re overpowered by something else. Hope.

“Lando?”

Lando lets out a quiet hum, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He looks as if he’s almost holding his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice soft, almost tentative.

“Kiss me please?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper. Lando’s eyes widened a fraction, the shock on his face quickly giving way to a look of breathless awe. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

But then, his lips pull into a smile—a bright, brilliant, beautiful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, and then his hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. The moment your lips meet his, it's like the world disappears. All the noise, the worries, the doubts, they all melt away, leaving nothing but the sensation of Lando's lips on yours.

His mouth is warm, gentle at first, and then with growing confidence as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His touch is electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body as his hands pull you onto his lap.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and tasting the sweetness of his lips. You’ve been craving this for so long—years of yearning compressed into this single moment of release. His hands move under your shirt, skimming over the bare skin of your back, making you shiver against his touch.

The kiss seems to go on forever—a sweet, slow, burning kind of kiss that makes the outside world fade completely. There’s only Lando, only the heat of his body against yours, the pounding of your heart, the way his tongue teases yours, sending sparks straight to your veins.

Finally, you break apart, both of you gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together as you cling to each other. Lando’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated with something primal, something possessive. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, breathless, his hand still tracing patterns across your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I think I might have some idea,” you reply, your breathing still ragged. “You’ve made it pretty damn obvious, you know.”

You can see the hint of a cocky grin on Lando’s face as he ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Can you blame me?” he mumbles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “You’re pretty damn irresistible.”

The feel of his teeth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin…it’s driving you insane. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every sense keyed into his touch, his breath, his voice. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” Lando murmurs as he nips at your earlobe. “Months of trying to keep my hands off you, trying to pretend I didn’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“Imagine what it’s been like for me,” you reply, your voice hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. “Watching you smile and flirt with everyone but me. Listening to you talk about your dates…it was torture.”

Lando pulls back at that, his expression turning apologetic. “God, I’m sorry, darling. But you weren’t exactly making it easy for me either, you know. Looking all cute and pretty and…yeah,” he finishes lamely, his face reddening.

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little temptation,” you tease, poking his chest lightly. Lando huffs, his competitiveness flaring as he nips at your finger. “Oh, I can handle temptation just fine,” he retorts with a hint of a growl. “I’ve been handling it for months, thank you very much.”

He pulls you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, possessive, and suddenly his mouth is on your neck again, his teeth scraping over your pulse point, making you gasp

“You were handling it, were you?” you tease between gasps, arching against him as his tongue trails down the column of your throat. “Doesn’t seem like you were handling it very well…”

His hands slide under your shirt, his touch roaming over your back, your waist, his thumbs dipping under the edge of your bra.

“Trust me, love,” Lando says in a low voice, his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, “You have no idea what kind of self-control I’ve had to exercise. There were times I wanted to pin you against a wall and just…”

His words trail off, but the way his hands grip your hips, the way he tugs you flush against him, make it pretty clear what he wanted to do. “What stopped you, then?” you ask, biting back a moan as his lips find your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. “You seemed to have no problem going after every other girl you wanted…

Lando lets out a soft huff, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “Because it was never just a one-night thing, darling,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “None of them…they weren’t you.”

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and when he looks at you, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s almost staggering.

Your heart clenches at his words, the raw honesty in his eyes robbing you of speech. You’d expected flirty charm and cocky banter, but this…this was something else altogether. Lando Norris, the heartthrob of Formula 1, the man who could have any girl he wanted, was admitting to you, just you, that he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you

“Lando I need you so bad,” you say hoping for something to happen between you. Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Yeah?” he breathes out, his voice shaky, laced with desire. “How bad, darling?”

“Bad enough that I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you confess, your voice quivering. Everything in you is on fire, every nerve endings craving his touch, his lips, his body. You want him, desperately, urgently, and you can see in his eyes that he wants you just as badly.

Lando curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips as he holds you against him. You feel the hardness of his arousal against you, and the knowledge nearly makes you dizzy. Lando leans forward, his lips finding your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, darling,” he murmurs, his voice rough, gravelly with need. “Show me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse, filled with aching need. “I want to see. I want to know.”

Lando lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips as he turns you so you’re laying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the cushion.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his hands slide under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and off, revealing your bare stomach. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of scorching kisses down to the edge of your bra.

Lando looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, breathless, your body yearning for his touch. Lando hooks a finger under the elastic of your bra, the touch of his knuckles against your skin making you shudder. He tugs the bra off, tossing it onto the floor, and then leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His hands roam over your bare chest, fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

Lando moves his kisses from your lips down to your chest, his mouth trailing down to the valley between your breasts. You arch against him, your body craving more, needing more of his touch, more of him.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice wavering, filled with awe. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, darling…so damn long…”

“I’m right here,” you gasp out, arching your back as his lips close around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. “It’s not just you who’s been going crazy, you know…I’ve wanted this too, god, so many times I thought I was going to go crazy…”

Lando chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through you. “Good to know I haven’t been the only one going mad,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down your stomach, his hands roaming over your sides. “I couldn’t focus in a race for weeks just thinking about you like this, darling, about how you’d look, how you’d feel…how you’d taste…”

He kisses the inside of your hip, his facial hair scraping against your skin, and then his thumbs are hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, beginning to pull them down. You lift your hips to help him tug them off, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

Lando looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin. He curses under his breath, his pupils dilated with desire. “God, look at you,” he mutters, running a trembling hand down your side. “You’re so perfect…so goddamn perfect…”

He moves between your legs, his hands gripping your hips, his touch firm but gentle. “All these months, I’d fantasize about this, about you, laid out like this just for me,” he mumbles, leaning down to press kisses along your inner thighs. “I never thought I’d get to see it for real…”

“I never thought I’d let you see,” you reply breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. “But I’m all yours now, Lando. All yours. Show me what you’ve been thinking about…”

Lando groans at your words, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he positions himself between your legs. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and sucking and nipping, slowly moving up your thigh until you can feel his breath against your aching core.

“You’re sure?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, words failing you. Desire is coursing through your veins like a drug, making you dizzy and needy and aching for more. “Please, Lando,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you…don’t make me wait anymore….”

Lando lets out another low moan, his breath hot against your skin. “God, I love it when you beg,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, darling…everything you want…

His mouth finally finds your core, and it’s almost enough to make you scream. His tongue is doing glorious things, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bucking against him, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“L-Lando,” you gasp out brokenly, your hands twisting in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Lando hums against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightens as his tongue continues its wicked dance, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he mutters, his words muffled against your skin. “I want to hear you, darling…want to know I’m making you feel good….”

You can’t help but obey, his words and his touch driving you to the brink of madness. A steady stream of moans and gasps falls from your lips, and Lando groans in response like he’s enjoying your pleasure just as much as you are.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, Lando’s mouth moves away from your core, leaving you feeling bereft, aching with unfulfilled need.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasp out, looking down at him with hazy eyes. Lando grins at you, his lips glistening with your desire.

“Because I’m not done with you yet, darling,” he murmurs as he moves back up your body, his body settling on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch. “You’re cruel, you know,” you murmur, a shiver running through you as you feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you. “Leaving me like that…all needy and aching for you.

“You’ll just have to suffer a little while longer,” Lando replies, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, his lips curving into a smirk. He nips at your shoulder, then brushes his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally give you what you want, love…how good I’m going to make you feel…”

You whine in frustration, arching against him, your body desperate for release. Lando laughs against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

“Look at you, all needy for me,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with desire. “God, I love seeing you like this…all desperate and begging…I could get addicted to it, you know.”

You’re helpless against him, your body putty in his skillful hands. Every touch, every press of his lips is sending electricity through your veins, lighting up your nerves. You’re so close to the edge, clinging to it desperately as Lando continues to drive you wild.

“Please, Lando, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, desperate. “I need you…I need you so much…I need…I need…”

“What do you need, love?” Lando murmurs, his fingers tracing a path up your inner thigh, dancing ever closer to where you need him most. “You’ll have to use your words, darling…I want to hear you say it…”

You let out a strangled moan, your body quivering with tension. “I need…I need you to touch me,” you finally manage to gasp out, your voice thick with need. “Please, Lando…make me feel good…I can’t take anymore…I can’t…”

Lando lets out a low growl at your words, his hand finally moving to where you need him most. His fingers dip between your folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroking it lightly, making you shudder in ecstasy.

“You’re so damn wet, love,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So goddamn responsive for me ... .I've just been touching you for a few minutes and you’re already falling apart in my arms “Feels…feels so good,” you gasp out, your body arching against his touch. Your senses are completely overwhelmed, your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Lando’s fingers, the sound of his voice, the feel of his weight on top of you. Everything else is distant, hazy, and insignificant compared to him.

“That’s it, darling,” Lando murmurs, his fingers moving more quickly, his touch firmer. “Let go…I’ve got you…I’m right here…I’m gonna take care of you.”

His other hand is cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours, dark, possessive, intense.

“I need to feel you,” you gasp out between moans, your body clenching tight around his fingers. “Please, Lando…I want you…I need you….”

Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his eyes darkening even further. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You’re goddamn perfect, you know that? Perfect and mine. All mine…”

“More,” you murmur, your body pleading for release. “Please, Lando, more…I need more….”

Lando’s thumb is circling over your clit, his fingers moving deeper, faster, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Is this enough, darling?” he asks, his voice rough but his touch still gentle. “Or do you need even more? Tell me what you want, love…I’ll give you whatever you need.

“You.” The word comes out barely coherent, but you manage to force it out in a gasp. “I want you. I need you. All of you. I can’t take this anymore, Lando. I can’t…please…please…please….”

Lando’s eyes widen at your words, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Christ, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice tight with control, “you keep talking like that, and that’ll be over before it even starts.”

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” you beg, your body trembling with need. “Please, Lando, I don’t think I can take it…I need to feel you…I need you now…”

Lando’s fingers continue their torturous rhythm, his other hand holding your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You can see the struggle for control in his eyes, the tension in his body, the barely contained desire. He’s just as desperate as you are, just as needy

“Are you sure, darlin?” he asks, his voice strained with self-control. “Once I give you what you want, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to hold back anymore…I’ll take you right here and now, just like you want…are you sure you’re ready for that…?”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. You nod, the word tumbling out of you, pleading, desperate. “Yes. Yes. God, Lando…yes, I’m ready. More than ready. I want you, all of you. Now. Please…”

A guttural moan escapes Lando’s lips at your words, the sound raw and primal. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, darlin,” he mutters, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them as he positions himself between your legs. “But…goddammit…I’m not going to fight it anymore…”

He leans down, his lips claiming yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his body pressed fully against yours. You can feel his need, his desire, his desperation mirrored in every movement, in every slide of his tongue against yours. His hands shift to your thighs, spreading your legs wider, aligning your bodies perfectly

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters between kisses, his voice rough, hoarse with lust. “So goddamn perfect…all laid out for me…all mine.

His hips press against yours, the heat, the hardness of his arousal making you gasp against his lips. “I need you, darlin,” he mutters, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through you. “I need you so damn much it hurts…I can’t hold back anymore…I can’t…”

“Then don’t,” you whisper, your body arching against his, pleading for him. “Please, Lando…don’t hold back anymore…I’m all yours…please…”

Lando lets out another guttural moan, his control finally snapping. “God, darlin, the things you do to me…goddamn…”

He shifts his weight, positioning himself at your entrance, the tension in his body like a coiled spring. “You sure about this, love? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your body aching with need, your heart filled with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lando. I want you, goddammit, I need you…I’m yours…please…please…please….”

Your words are like a match to a fuse, igniting the last shred of his control. Lando lets out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips, his body tense, trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He takes a shaky breath, his blue eyes meeting yours, dilated with desire.

“You’re mine, darlin,” he repeats, his voice a hoarse whisper. “All mine.”

And with that, he finally surrenders to his need, his control shattered. His body sheathes itself within you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that’s primal and possessive and perfect. A moan tears from your throat, your body arching against his, sparks of pleasure dancing through you, igniting every nerve.

Lando lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours. “God, you feel so good,” he gasps out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “So damn perfect…you’re going to be the death of me, darlin

Your world narrows down to the sensation of him within you, his body moving against yours, the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body on and around you. Your whole world is Lando: his breath against your skin, the taste of his neck, the feel of his body moving against yours.

“God, yes,” you gasp out between moans, your body meeting his every thrust, your hands tracing over his back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath your palms. “Lando…Lando…God, you feel so good…so perfect…

"Oh, lord have mercy-" you gasped your eyes rolling at the back of your head.

"Oh, he had plenty when he made you. My. fucking. Friend." Lando says between thrusts.

Lando’s words are like fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within you that’s almost primal, almost feral. You cling to him, your body quivering, your nails digging into his skin. He lets out another guttural moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his restraint paper-thin.

"I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, darlin," he gasps out, his voice rough, strained. "You feel too good…too perfect…”

"Just let go, Lando," you breathe out, your voice hoarse, a plea, a command, a plea. "I want you to. Come for me…show me how good I make you feel…"

Lando’s body shudders at your words, his control finally, blissfully breaking. “Goddammit, darlin, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse growl. “You drive me wild, love…god damn…I can’t…I can’t…”

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours, his body trembling, taut, quivering with tension. “Are you close, darlin?” he gasps out, his voice tight, strangled.

You nod, your body clenching around him, your hands clinging to his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “I…I’m so close, Lando,” you manage to gasp out, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Lando’s eyes darken at your words, a possessive, primal spark igniting in his gaze. “That’s it, darlin,” he murmurs, his body moving faster, harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. “Let go for me. Let go for me…I want to feel you…I want to feel you come undone in my arms…”

You’re helpless to resist his pleas, your body quivering, ready to burst. His voice, his touch, his body, it’s all too much, too intense. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice, hanging on by a mere thread.

“L-Lando…” you manage to moan out, your voice shaky, breathless. “I’m…I’m…I’m…”

Lando’s body trembles with the effort of holding back, his restraint hanging on by a thread. “That’s it, darlin,” he gasps out, his voice ragged, tight. “Let go. Let go, darling. I’ve got you…I’ve got you”

The tension finally snaps, your body seizing up, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you like a wall of fire. You cry out, your nails digging into Lando’s back, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

Lando lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, his body tensing, his hips stuttering, his control finally, blissfully broken. “Goddammit, darlin,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse gasp. “That’s it…that’s it…I’m right there with you, darlin,” he gasps out, his body shuddering against yours, his release crashing over him like a tsunami. “Goddamn…you’ve got me completely wrecked, love…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.”

You cling to him, both of you trembling in the aftermath, holding onto each other for dear life. The room is filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, the thump of your heartbeats, the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Lando’s arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours, holding you tightly to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He’s still shaking, still quivering with the aftershocks of the pleasure you’ve just experienced together.

"Goddamn, darlin," he mutters, his voice low, rough. "You wreck me. Every time. You completely wreck me."

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body relaxing into his embrace. “That was…that was intense,” you murmur, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Lando lets out a soft, hoarse chuckle at your words, the sound vibrating against your skin. “That’s what I was aiming for, darlin,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a few days.”

“You succeeded,” you say, a smile curving your lips, your body still tingling, still humming with the aftermath. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same after that.”

Lando lets out a soft, possessive moan at your words, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he mutters, his lips moving over your skin, “because I plan on doing that to you again and again, darlin. Over and over. Until you can’t even remember your own name.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Is that a promise?” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry.

Lando lets out a low rumble of affirmation, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It’s a promise, darlin,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to keep you in bed for days, love. Until you forget everything except my name.”

You shiver at the possessive, primal note in his voice, the promise in his words. “You’re going to wear me out,” you murmur, your body already stirring with renewed desire.

Lando lets out another low rumble, his hands beginning to wander over your body, reigniting the fire between you. “That’s the plan, darlin,” he mutters, his lips moving down your neck, “to wear you out and then wear you out some more. I can’t get enough of you, love. I never will.”

You let out a soft, wanton moan, your body arching against his, your heart swelling with a mixture of pleasure and desire. “You’re insatiable,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Only with you, darling . Only you,”

[lizzy019]

𝒲𝑒'𝓇𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈.

Sub!Johnny Cade x Soft Dom!Fem!Reader

cw -> best friends to lovers trope lol, masturbation, underweight mentioning (Johnny), panty smelling :((, voice kink?, dub-con, cunnilingus, THIS GIRL STROKES HIS COCK! (yes pls on my knees)

Word Count -> 3.9K

I LOVE THIS WHAT

Consider your friendship to be a little too closely knit together. 

Johnny spent long, consecutive hours at your place, often being the reason why your food and snacks were gone. You couldn’t blame the poor teenager, his family wasn’t ideal, but at least yours could afford food.

By the time you two were done hanging out in your living room, watching some random show that you two eventually got bored of, you found yourself serving him whatever leftovers you had in the fridge. It wasn’t much, but you knew damn well that Johnny was the most un-picky dude ever to exist. He’d eat rat poisoning if he didn’t know it was rat poisoning. 

But you couldn’t help but feed him whatever he wanted because you knew he’d like himself with more meat on his bones and less bruises on his back. You couldn’t control what his parents did, but you sure could offer him the pleasure of eating a proper, healthier meal than takeout.

So now it was just you and Johnny sitting at your dining room table under the dim but soft light from over your head with two ceramic dishes filled with warm food in front of your torsos. It had a slightly concerned but slightly adorning expression as you watched Johnny eat with such vigour. You were concerned because it seemed like he hadn't eaten since the dawn of time, but it warmed your heart knowing you were giving him something he couldn’t access often.

“Slow down, you’ll choke yourself and I don’t have room to finish your meal.” You chided softly, smiling when you saw the tiniest pink flush engender onto his cheeks. 

Those shy brown eyes that could make anyone like him, he just seemed so sweet on the outside. “Hey, I’m hungry and I’m gonna eat! Plus, it’s not like I haven’t been to the hospital before, they’ll know me for sure.” Johnny muttered, slowing his eating pace to a reasonable speed. 

Ah right, the church incident.

Johnny probably hated how his back and shoulders looked now too, and with all that physio? You felt a little sympathy for him.

Your plates were soon empty after a decent chunk of time, and you pushed him a napkin to clean the mess from around his mouth with a kind smile. It wasn’t to be rude, as you’ve learned that being rude towards Johnny chips away at your friendship.

He takes it graciously while you scoop the dirtied dishes into your hands for cleaning. But after a second or two, you left the dishes in the sink. They could be cleaned later, and it was already somewhat late. So the ceramic plates coated in a sheen of leftover food residue were left in the sink while you tidied up the kitchen to appease your parents’ expectations. 

Johnny just watched you, eyes soft and the lovely brown irises being held by the sockets trailing your movements to exact perfection. Why did you have to be so elegant with how you moved, so effortless and perfectly postured? Poor boy was swooning.

“Alright, do you wanna go get ready for bed? We don’t really have a guest room or anywhere for you to rest, but you can take my bed while I take my parents’ bed?” You offered politely, that sweet benevolence lingering in your tone while you led him down the corridors of your home.

Pictures and paintings littering the walls of the hall, the occasional piece of work that caught Johnny’s attention until you opened a door leading to your bedroom. It reeked of your scent, something that had his insides tingling out of joy. He got to sleep in your room? Fuck yeah!

“Y-yeah, I can stay here for the night. Sorry for.. bargin’ into your home so quick, I just needed somewhere to stay and Dal was drunk outta his mind.” Johnny muttered softly, walking into your room with caution while he looked around.

Clothes scattered all over the floor, the countertops somewhat messy except for the desk you seem to barely use. Your bed, unkempt but oh so cozy looking, even the curtains which were halfway closed from rushing. Shoes just chucked about anywhere there was room, a bra littered near your hamper which he could only assume was you trying to take it off late at night before heading to bed.

But he could smell you everywhere in this room, and it sent his senses ablaze.

“That’s alright, Dally does tend to have some poor habits. Anyway, I’ll be in the shower tidying myself up, you holler if you need anythin’, y’hear?” You smiled wide, toothy grin making him smile too.

Johnny nodded, watching you leave and close the door behind you. Your soft pitter-pattering footsteps that trailed down the halls until you closed another door which he presumed was the bathroom door.

The hardening sensation being squeezed within the confines of his denim pants was getting hard to ignore, but he felt so wrong for it. But good lord, he could smell it. Smell you. The redolent, fragrant smell of you that seemed to linger no matter where he stuck his nose just drove him up the wall to pure heaven.

Meanwhile, you were just having yourself a warm shower, washing off the grime from today as well as the bit of grease you used to slick your hair out. That took the most time, you had to scrub with such authority that you were sure you had lost enough hair to re-fur a hairless cat.

The soft soap you used was being lathered onto your skin, cleansing it and replenishing what it had lost during the day. You couldn’t lie, night showers were some of the best showers after a long day.

It didn’t take long for you to finish washing your body before you hopped out of the shower to dry off. The towel now warm from the steamy, hot shower was practically a cherry on top when you patted yourself dry with it. All the little uneven droplets being soaked up by the towel’s fabric to leave you dry and soft afterward.

Johnny was hiding away in your room, stripped down only with his boxers while his hand greedily pumped at his cock, a hand grasping at the pair of panties he managed to snag from your room and stuffing them at his face to get a whiff of what your pretty cunny smelled like. He felt so wrong for doing this, he was your best friend!

Johnny instantly stopped when he heard the soft tip-taps of your feet trudging towards your room, and he used the blankets to half cover himself so his boner wouldn’t be too prominent or easy to see. He also stuffed the underwear beside his thigh away from view before muttering a medium decibel, “Come in.”

You did just that, scurrying yourself into your room you found Johnny relaxing in while you scavenged your closet for proper night clothes such as a pyjama or even an oversized shirt with some shorts. Poor Johnny was just about to go insane when he saw you bend over, the sweet sight of your ass peeking through to his line of sight.

You had to have been tempting him, right? Right?

Once you had selected what you planned on wearing for the night, you looked back over in his direction to properly wish him a good night and good dreams until you paused to look at him further.

His ribcage was in full view, the bones prominent but you couldn’t find it in you to be disgusted or revolted by the sight. The soft brown skin of his, perfect in its glory asides the bruising and scarring which you’d come to understand was his insecurity. But he seemed tense, almost fearful and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“Johnnycakes? Are you okay? You look stiff, is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, innocently.

How was he not supposed to nut to just that benevolent tone you held?

Johnny gave a hesitant nod, shooting one of his sweet grins that displayed his teeth to you. You could only smile back, finding his little radiant expression to mirror onto yourself and make you do the same. But it was late, you shouldn’t stay up for chit-chatting.

“Alright, you know where I am if you need me, right? Down the hall, last room. Knock if something’s wrong.” You hummed, scampering off with your clothes in hand.

The soft click of the door when it closed rang through the silence, emitting a pitch that resonated and lingered far longer than it had to, followed by the tippy-taps of your feet against the floorboards as you rushed to your parents’ room. 

Finally!

He dug his hand back under the blanket, finding his hardened cock growing a bit flaccid, and he frowned. Poor Johnny had a good rhythm going too! He fisted his cock once again, pumping mercilessly as the echoes of your voice from that simple moment when you waltzed your way in.

It wasn’t long until he was fighting himself to not make any sounds, but he began to lose his control as soon as he gained it when the muscles surrounding the base of his cock began to twitch and tighten to signal his release was upcoming. 

The dim lights from the midnight blue sky shone through your half open bedroom curtains, pushing past the glass to shine into the room Johnny sat in. This was all the light he needed to see the pair of panties in his hand, and that dirty, filthy mind of his began to simply picture you in them and nothing more.

The lovely shape of your body, its colour and form, the little markings that made you so individual and unique. Perfect set of tits, nicest ass that looked just about sculpted by angels. You were just so perfect, how could he not want you? How could he not want to have you?

Meanwhile, you were sitting with a disgusted look on your face as you heard the soft but audible noises Johnny was making from down the hall, but once you heard your name tumble from his lips, everything seemed to fade into a realization which led to hope. Did he like you like that too?

Soon enough, your own hand drifted to the soft pair of lips being freed from the confines of your panties, rubbing your unhardened clit with vigour. The tingling sensation burned in between your thighs, and you too found it hard to remain silent, but you managed. Johnny’s sounds from your room simply added fire to the ever growing flame building within your lower stomach.

Poor Johnny was clawing at the fabrics of your bed’s sheets, gasping and heaving while soft whimpers and groans seemed to slip his closed, pursed lips. It aggravated him, but he still thought you were asleep and he didn’t wish to wake you.

Boy, was he wrong.

By the time Johnny had set off his load onto whatever fabric you had around —which you couldn’t bear to think was now stained by his cum—, you hobbled your uneasy legs out of bed and down the long corridors of your home. Your steps were as silent as you could make them, but the skin on the soles of your feet now warm from staying under the blanket made the softest sticky sound that alerted Johnny.

He sat upright in a flurry of panic, inevitably settling on stuffing himself under your blankets when he heard the door slowly creak open. Maybe you’d leave?

“Johnny?” Your whispery tone got his focus, even though he tried hard not to shuffle or move around to alert you. “Johnny, are you awake?” You tried again.

When you finally thought that he was asleep and wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, you hobbled yourself beside him under the blankets and tenderly rubbed at his back. Your nimble fingers grazed the skin of the burn scars and bruises oh so gently, his heart filling with warmth that made blood pump down in between his thighs.

You were oblivious to it, moving yourself to use his thigh as something to grind against for purchase and friction. It was selfish, it was improper, but you needed it. Lord, you could feel yourself soaking his boxers from some simple grinding against him.

Poor Johnny didn’t know how to tell you he was awake, and in all honesty, maybe he shouldn’t. If he told you, or moved even a bit, you’d become startled and embarrassed to the point where you couldn’t speak and you both knew of this well. You weren’t great at handling your embarrassment.

Those soft moans tumbling freely from your lips were like a tease, something to tempt him to see if he would break. His cock was chubbing up at your dulcet noises, and he didn’t know whether they were somewhat soothing or a bit too erotic for his liking. Regardless, he tried to subtly move his hand to that aching spot between his legs for release.

You assumed his movement was involuntary like any person would do in their sleep. Adjustments to get comfortable weren’t uncommon, so you paid no mind to it and just kept at it. Surely you had stained the hem of his boxers with your arousal juices. But you weren’t focused on that!

But it wasn’t until the movements became consistent and they weren’t your own that you began to grow nervous. Had you made him uncomfortable? Was something hurting him? Maybe he had woken up? Oh, that thought sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You were scared that he had woken up and had gotten all flustered, maybe even trying to move away with the inability to wriggle you off.

So tentatively, you moved your weight off of his body, using what little arm strength you had in you at the moment to see what was happening below you. Johnny stopped almost instantly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just jacking off to the way you were using his body. Would this be considered non-consensual? No, he liked it very much, so why were you hesitating on continuing?

“Johnny, I know you’re awake. Did I bother you? ‘M sorry, Johnnycakes, jus’ needed you..” You hummed, nuzzling your cheek to his boney shoulder to feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of his tanned skin. “Oh, but what’ll the others think?”

When you jostled him to show you knew he wasn’t asleep, Johnny allowed himself to turn over to face you and sighed happily. There you were, all pretty with your embarrassed pink cheeks and your pouty expression. Did you even understand how gorgeous you were to him? Even when he first met you, he swore you were sent from the heavens.

“Sugar, don’t worry ‘bout the others. Dal’s secretly been tellin’ Two that we were a thing anyway. I don’t mind it, would your family be okay with it?” His serene voice that wafted tobacco to your nose had confirmed just about everything you were thinking. So he liked you back, and the glances at your breasts during visits wasn’t just because he couldn’t make eye contact with you.

“I don’t care what my parents say, but your parents.. what’ll they do to you if they find out? You know that keepin’ it a secret won’t do us any good.” You murmured, a hand of yours gently holding his hip and caressing the skin while tracing the outline of protruding bone.

That had Johnny’s eyes forming hearts. Did you really think ahead of everything just to make sure he was gonna be alright? Good lord, he knew he was making the right choice.

“Ah, what’s a couple more bruises? I’ll be able to ditch them eventually, maybe move somewhere with you. How ‘bout that? We’d move far away from Tulsa, maybe somewhere warmer. No more Socs, no more fights, hell, I’d love to get rid of my cigs. I hate my teeth all yellow.” Johnny hummed at the thought of doing everything he listed off before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

It started intimately, just two idiots mindlessly kissing with smiles mashed together while fingers entangled into each other’s hair. Soft and meaningful, purposeful movements that were well thought out and calculated until Johnny moved his hips to show you what you had started. That hardening length slick with some pre-cum, and you moved your hand down to grip it and stroke it while adjusting.

Your body was now hovering over his, lips still intertwined while you wriggled off whatever clothes acted as a burden to what you were seeking. The hindrances you considered fabric to sheath your body were off of you in mere seconds, your body pulling away from his to throw your shirt off. Soon, your mouth found purchase against the soft muscle of his neck, desperately suckling some little hickeys into his flesh.

Painless bruises that expressed your affection. What was more beautiful than that? 

The soft little squeaks of moans that tumbled freely from Johnny’s pretty mouth just egged you on. Your hand fisting his cock mercilessly, milking him for all he’s got while showering him in soft praises. He deserved this kind of love, soft and sweet with just enough roughness to have you craving more.

“Yeah, baby? Feels good? You can take it, you got it.” You lulled him, pressing innocent kisses to wherever you could reach your lips, listening to the sheets rustle beneath you as Johnny wiggled around.

Sprawled out while desperately grasping the blankets and sheets below him, he found himself teetering off of that perfect ledge of ecstasy that was exposed to him. He was so close to that pleasurable place of heaven on Earth, and he was worried you wouldn’t let him cum. He hated edging.

But you didn’t. Your expression seemed to anticipate his climax, and that further had the coil connecting his lower stomach and the base of his cock to tighten and tighten until he simply couldn’t take it.

A cry that was so obviously forced to be squeezed quiet had alerted you just a few seconds before his climax that he was cumming. Sure enough, his pretty, pearly cum trickled down from his urethra and onto your soft skin, the liquid creating a thin sheen over your flesh.

The aftershocks of his body instantly made you become more sweet, hands resting on either side of his waist while gently caressing the warmed brown skin of his. Poor Johnny was rattling more than a damn Mexican maraca. Shudders made him all electric, but he soon found your hands gently holding his hips, and that grounded him.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can go again, sugar. Maybe.. get on toppa me?” He asked so sweetly, so pleasantly as if you’d say no.

You were practically stunned speechless at his words, pondering for a moment before inevitably answering his plea. Johnny adjusted instantly when he saw the soft nod of your head, and you could only giggle at his ecstatic expression. Happy, just like how he deserved to feel.

Your legs were quickly situated over his head, and with nervous hands, you combed through the soft locks on his scalp. Ungreased and silky, it soothed you enough.

“What if I’m heavy? I don’t wanna crush you.” You smiled shyly, and Johnny simply shrugged while caressing your hamstrings with tender fingers. For a greaser, you still questioned how his fingers were delicate and smooth. 

“Then I’d die happy. C’mon, it’ll be okay. How ‘bout this? If you hurt me at all, I’ll swat your legs lightly.” He offered, charming you with that devilishly sweet glint in his doe brown eyes.

You could only nod after he spoke, and you hesitantly lowered yourself onto his awaiting mouth. Nervousness caused your fingers to jitter sporadically, but you pushed through before sitting yourself onto his face. The warmth of his tongue caused a rattle to zoom up your spine like a racecar on a speedway, electrifying you.

The moans that were pulled from you just made Johnny all the more eager to please you, and he began to greedily feed off of your sweet nectar. The tangy taste of your juices were simply too addictive, could you even blame him? He didn’t know which he preferred, nicotine or your delicious wetness.

You were beginning to grind on his face, his nose nudging your clit every time you missed or got too careless. The mess of your arousal was smudging onto his chin and upper lip, but you were too dazed out to really notice anyway. Poor Johnny was about to bust again from your desperation to get a climax, but he knew cumming twice was enough for him.

His tongue slurped up any drops your cunny managed to spurt out for him, the overstimulation of your labia and clit being teased had your toes curling. You were becoming sheen with sweat, but you didn’t cease being quiet. Johnny was simply slurping you up like a snack, and you took it.

The coil within your lower abdomen threatened to snap, but you couldn’t sum up the strength to get off of his mouth to save him from mess. His hands groping your ass or caressing your hammies didn’t seem to let up either, in fact encouraging you to continue.

Johnny’s tongue kept hitting all the ooey gooey spots inside of you that set all the nerves in your body ablaze, and it wasn’t long until you were teetering over the thin line of release.

“Johnny! Johnny- I’m gonna cum..! Baby, I-” Your orgasm had cut you off, your legs seizing and stopping all their movements while you thrashed about from the sheer intensity of whatever pleasure Johnny gave you.

Poor boy’s face was squished to mush, but he was so happy.

Soon, you found yourself coming back to reality, your control over your legs and you used this newfound control to get off of his face. The last thing you wanted was to crush him or suffocate him!

When you got yourself seated beside him, legs still a bit shaky, Johnny licked off whatever fluid you managed to spunk onto his face with a gleeful smile. How gross! But.. somewhat hot too. Johnny grinned at you, his teeth all crooked but so sweet on his face.

“Feel good, sugar?” He asked you, smiling all happy and pridefully. Making you cum was a big deal for him!

You chuckled softly to yourself at his words, they were suave in how he spoke. You couldn’t admit to him that it was probably the best head you’ve ever received, his ego would get too overinflated and the gang already had an overconfident Dally.

“Yes, it felt good. Thank you.” You smiled, tucking yourself under the warm blankets of your own mattress. The duvet covers felt nice on your burning skin, even if it was a bit too hot for them.

Johnny beamed, getting under the blankets with you as well before throwing his lanky arms around you. It scared you for a second as it was unexpected, but you laughed and wholeheartedly accepted his hug. Warm arms encased you, and yours wrapped around him in return.

Giggles were shared and kisses were peppered all around, even some tickles to make everything seem more lively. Johnny also wanted you to feel like you weren’t just there for some sex and nothing more.

God, you were so fucking in love.

Shoutouts to:

@outsidersstuff16 @raycravens116 @johnnycadesslut @johnnycadesmuse @johnnycakesswitch

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What flashback is imprinted in your lover's mind ? (18+)

Y'all don't know how long it takes for me to found the right images just to end up disappointed ... smh

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PILE 1 

You guys are childhood best friends. Maybe your moms knew each other forever or y’all are neighbors. Y’all grew up together … max 5 years age gap. I feel like this person is older than you. The feminine energy you grew beautifully. Is not even about liking you or not … you are very attractive. A lot of friends of your bff try to hit on you some of y’all, your best friend gave the green light. While others … if you are surprised nobody is hitting on you or even acting interested … babe put 2 and 2 together. Nah you are not bad at flirting actually you are very good. Damm you are a triple threat; beautiful, charming and smart … not your bff doing you wrong. 

The flashback. 

For a long time, they kept their distance. Your person has a lot of integrity and they believe in boy and girl friendship. So they put whatever feeling that was coming through to the side. Or brush it off by being to horny at the moment. Not like… you are the only woman available around me and that’s why I am horny. More in the way that: ‘’Ok pile 2 is attractive and my body is having a normal reaction.’’. The flush they felt when you back yourself on their chest. The tingles they feel when you are close to them, your eyes sparkling because you are talking about something that excites you. The yearning for your touch after you give them a hug or you just run your hand on their back or hair. They love embracing you and putting their chin on your head. They are so grateful for y’all closeness and the fact that you’ve been close because they get to share intimate moments with you in front of people without anyone really questioning y’all. Also they don’t know if they can handle never touching you. 

The vision is you organizing some type of party at your house. Could be a summer house where you invited everyone you knew and the invited; invited more people. Chérie d’Amour y’all are popular. Which does not surprise me . Before you look around running away from the title just know there’s nothing wrong with the title. Some people don’t want to realize  that there are some people with amazing social skills, that love to interact with their environment, that live in their authenticity while being extremely charming and attractive. Like y’all not all popular people are mean. Most of the time they are  resourceful  since they always know a person that knows a person. Moving on , it could be you inviting your soul tribe over at your apartment for Friendsgiving or just for the fuck of it. Y’all like hosting and you go all in. You choose a theme  and buy decorations for it. Keep going with your skills and it will not surprise me if your friend asks you to organize their engagement party or baby shower in the future. Anyway they came early … duuuuuh… bff duty. They were cutting some stuff in the kitchen. Before I go deeper, y’all keep teasing him/her by giving that person fuck me eyes, rub their dick/pussy by accident or texting them ungodly things. Some of y’all discuss each other's sexual past and desires. They were only uncomfortable because they soon realized that not only was y’all relationship not a friendship no more but they were now infatuated by you . They then took a cold shower … LOL … They might even pep talk their dick/pussy before dealing with you. Making sure shit doesn't go hard/wet otherwise it will be very embarrassing. That being said you push them on the wall, they are confuse as fuck, asking question but all you do is  giggle with your seductive eye. You went straight to business , you rushed pulling down their zipper or bringing down their panties. If they have a dick, you just wipe out their hard dick. They complain all the time about how wrong this whole thing is and the fact that people may walk in on y’all or maybe that cooking is going to take even more time because you are playing around. Until the last minute, they don’t believe whatever is happening. Blaming it on the vape, alcohol or weed or fucking whatever (even mercury retrograde for some … lol). Until you are inches away from their dick, looking at them with a big smile. Or you are about to enter your finger in their hole asking them for final consent. I heard them (clearly and firmly) say: ‘’ If you do it … there is no stopping after that’’. You go for it. Eyes close because you are not used to giving head. So instead of enjoying their moan or giving them sexy eyes, you pace your breathing and make sure you are moving your head probably to give them maximum pleasure. If they are an owner of a pussy, I see you pumping your finger and looking at them while they have a hand on their mouth trying to keep the moan in. Which makes you laugh even more. They are going to make you take more inches in, this head session is turning into deepthroat. They definitely talk you through it : ‘’ C’mon … you can take it baby girl. That’s it (moan)’’. You are just hoping not to choke on it. If it is a woman, you are taking their hand away and forcing them to be vocal about how good you make them feel.  I don’t know how y’all made your way from the kitchen to the bedroom but I see them thrusting deep and slowly inside of you. Completely focus on you. The whole session is very sensual and loving. They even rambled about how much they dream of time like this. If it is with an owner of a vagina, y’all share a lot of orgasm but you were more the one leading and give them pleasure. I am hearing a lot of ‘’ Love, baby, babygirl, honey’’ and ‘’ Right, yes… you love it, cum for me please baby’’. Then it's close, to y’all wake up next morning  all happy and they  realize the mess that just been achieved. They don’t regret it but now they are realizing they are stuck with you for life because they are officially  in love with you. 

That's a flashback playing on repeat in their head, reminding them that they have to make you theirs. 

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PILE 2 

This is actually your energy and not theirs. You are the one going through flashbacks. Also I am getting a 100% straight vibe from this pile. Don’t matter if you resonate more with feminine or masculine energy, all I see is a penis and a punani. 

You guys are very awkward when it comes to sex. You guys may be neurodivergent and quite high on the spectrum too. It doesn't matter how much you mask, you can't seem to hit it right. A lot of you have a strong sex appeal but when it comes down to it you're clueless. People need to stop thinking that just because someone is sexy that means they are a sex god. Y’all are very curvy and soft, big boobs, luscious butt and slimmer waist but still with a stomach. Maybe even a fupa. Your hair is long and shiny but I think it is just because of genes. You have your mother's face and her lighter color eyes. People always try to drag you in their bed  with your consent. You accept expecting it to be different but you always end up disappointed and the person is extremely pleased but never knows if you actually enjoy it. NEWS FLASH : You did not. You dissociate a lot during sex, y’all may suffer from depression, anxiety or OCD. I see you getting fucked, holding your tits and literally looking at the person on top of you straight in their eye like ‘’Ho is u cool’’. 

Flashback. 

I don’t know how you met that person or even the setting. I see you opening up and telling them how you never orgasm even though you try your best. They decide to help you, I am not getting FWB. You accept gladly thinking ‘’ what’s one more loser going to do to my body count ? ’’. They make you sit on their lap or on the sofa between their legs. They are talking to you through it like a meditation, they are not loving but more so calming. Telling you to close your eyes and let them do the job. Panties on the ground, you were wearing a skirt. Before you knew it, their fingers were playing with your clit and hole. They ask you to keep your eyes, playing with your nipples. You orgasm, you may have gotten really loud and you never felt so much pleasure. Suddenly your voice gets sexy. Is like they woken the sexy goddess sleeping in you, next thing you know,  you are begging them to suck their dick. They are going to refuse, showing you how hard you got them. Before they wipe it out and they ejaculate on you.  The vision stops there. The thing that gets you wet is their dick. You guys still masturbate at the thought of them having their dick in your mouth.

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PILE 3

You guys are in a relationship with that person. You guys' relationship is so goals. A lot of y’all friends look up to y’all relationships. That person may be a non-binary. Is like the collision of 2 different worlds when it comes to y’all aesthetic. You guys are straight but your partner is part of the rainbow community. They may also be into alternative art, music and style. 

The flashback . 

Y’all had sex multiple times before and after that flashback but that one time is like a golden memory for them. You guys were going to a concert of one of their favorite goth or rock bands and you dress up to the T. Y’all were fucking sexy with your makeup, hair (some of y’all even dye your hair a darker or flashy color for the event), body was expose in lowkey trashy way and you were being clingy which boost their ego because every guy around them realize how much game they had bagging a baddie like you. I see y’all having a lot of fun while waiting in line with them and their friends. The concert may have been planned for months because y‘all end up having sex in y’all hotel room.

They didn't even wait for you to get unready, the sec that you walked in they grabbed your hips. I see you trying to scream but their hand comes in your mouth. Before anyone calls the popo, this couple has been having sex and that’s really their dynamic. What fucking surprise me is the fact that I was not expecting this energy coming from them. Like how something so nerdy and awkward is so rough and skillful in the bedroom. It really be the nerdy one … They up your skirt and force themselves in your anus. You guys are playing along with it. I mean duhhhh is y’all dynamic. Is lowkey giving roleplay and bdsm but very lowkey. I hear you say ‘’stop’’ at the same time that shit actually turns you on. They made you orgasm multiple times before dragging you on the bed ( damn y’all are still clothed … I mean your clothes are torn… but anyway chile…). They are now cuddle fucking you and is rough and quick. They are playing with you  like you are a sex doll. The stuff I put myself through to give y’all good content; I heard them saying:’’Yeah, yeah, take it. Take it all like the good girl that you are’’. They love calling you good girl, that’s all I keep hearing over and over. Or maybe it is your assigned position in your sexual dynamic. Some of y’all may even have rules and punishment. Anyway let me get the fuck out the rabit hole. The orgasm was literally an euphoric sensation, they are comparing it to Xnax (they are telling me that this is an inside joke between y’all. You guys never did that drug. Or is an important lyric of a song that y’all share). When they were probably done, you were the one that did the cleaning up because they were extremely overstimulated.  Between the concert, the abundant love they have for you, the demanding sex, everything became too much.  Some of y’all even brought that person flowers because their performance was that good. 

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PILE 4 

This is your co-worker which I don't think shocks you because you only fuck him as a joke. A way to show them how pathetic they really is. To use him and play with him. I think you and this person are always in some sort of competition at work because your views differ a lot. While others are riding for them because of their last name, their attractiveness and even money. You don't give a fuck and say what the fuck is up. Both of y'all are always competing with each other. What I mean by that is an issue was brought up in a meeting and both of y’all came away with a solution. Maybe y’all boss hints that whoever project we are going to take, this person will be the manager of it therefore make the other person their yes man.  Both of you have a big ego so there’s no way. Yes way and they lost. Now I move from this setting to a Halloween party. Also all this doesn't necessarily mean it is corporate related, it could be a college project. When you read a pick a card you take whatever resonates and try to make it work for your situation. 

Flashback. 

I see you daring them to follow you which intrigues them. Maybe you have worn a cat costume. Y’all were dressed up as animals. They walk in and you pushed them on the bed. There is no lighting except for the moon light. You told them while holding their shoulder, by the way, they were wearing a pathetic last minute costume : ‘’ You really fucking thought you would win (their name)''. You take your black heel and push it on their dick and they fucking whimpered and you laughed. They barely spoke during the experience. You rubbed their dick with your heel while mocking them. Your eye, babe for a long time that’s all I could focus on. Before I even shuffle some cards, the way you looked at them is enough to make them bust. You caress their torso, their thighs and suck off their dick while insulting them. They cum, you try to leave but they want more so you let them suck your tits. I am hearing: ‘’ That’s it. That’s all you are good for. You will never be better than me…’’. Y’all really dislike each other even hate each other. We all know hate is passionate love anyways. You suddenly stand up and leave them wanting more. Every time they lay eyes on you they think about that one time.

They almost develop an unhealthy obsession with you. They have stalked you at some point but knew better so they keep their desire to themself. Honestly they hurt themselves (not self harm but I just don’t know how)  not to fall into deep obsession with you. 

Half of yall is just a sexual fantasy that someone around you has regarding you.

If you have never seen that person in a sexual sitting, they are big and needy for you, don't let the facade fool you.  Take a moment to see how their eyes linger on you and how truly amuse they are about the whole feud between y’all.

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[piningforstan]

I just recently found your page and love your work!!

can you write an angsty Stan fic where reader and Stan are still dancing around their feelings and reader finally gets the courage to confess to Stan but maybe overhears a conversation with him and Ford out of context saying he won’t date them and r is crushed? Then cue r trying to move on and jealous!Stan and then they get together somehow?

Thank you!!💕

I ended up placing this fic when Stan and Ford are still in high school before their falling out. I apologize if the timeline with Carla isn’t canon, I just wanted to include her. Also, reader is mentioned as a female a few times but this can easily be read as gender neutral.

I hope you like it!

You loved alcohol as much as you loved getting bamboo shoots shoved under your nail beds. But Carla “Hotpants” McCorkle had just broken up with Stan, and it was your duty as his best friend to support him. And if that meant drinking cheap beer on the beach with his brother, then so be it.

“I thought she was the one,” Stan grumbled. He crunched his empty beer can, belched, then reached for another.

You rolled your eyes. “You say that about every girl. Even that one you saw in a dream.”

You knew because you kept a detailed record of Stan’s revolving door of women, each declaration of love another stake in your heart. Secretly, you were pleased that Carla ended things with Stan. You could never date him in fear of ruining your friendship, but that didn’t mean you liked to see him with other girls. Especially not stuck-up bitches like Carla.

“I just dunno what she sees in this new guy.”

“He doesn’t litter?” Ford answered. He nudged the growing pile of discarded cans with his foot. Stan’s brother never drank, but he certainly lamented about how much the two of you did.

Stan continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “So what he can play guitar. Anyone can do that.”

“Can you?”

“No.” Stan angrily kicked up sand. “But I would learn if I thought I had a chance of winning her back.”

“You don’t need her,” you told him. The beer in you warmed you from the inside out, initiating the familiar tingling sensation in your legs that happened when you drank. “You’re Stan motherfucking Pines.”

Stan grinned at you. “You’re right. I don’t need her.” After slurping down the rest of his beer, Stan grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple.

It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to — Stan happened to be very affectionate, even worse when he was drunk — but it still sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“I got the only girl I need right here,” Stan said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

Your insides turned molten. Of course, you loved when Stan called you “his girl” but the sting of the words were especially painful in the wake of his breakup. You would never actually be his girl in the way that it mattered.

You could never jeopardize your friendship with Stan, or Ford. You had been inseparable since you were children, when Stan received a particularly nasty note about you in class and instead of passing it on promptly ate it. You took a likening to him immediately. And, since Stan was never without his brother for very long, Ford became the reasonable cornerstone of your friendship.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that you realized you saw Stan as much more of a friend. To be specific, when he successfully grew out his mullet and you fawned over it instead of throwing up in your mouth. On anyone else you might’ve. But it weirdly fit Stan, who you’d watched go from a weird, skinned-knee little boy to a weird, broad-shouldered man with dark curls that you desperately wanted to run your hands through.

Ford shattered the moment. “Why don’t you guys just date then?”

You’d both been asked the question before. It was expected, when a boy and girl were friends. Parents, nosy teachers, old ladies peering at you from wiry glasses. Usually the two of you fielded the question with various degrees of hilarity — “he gave me an STD” or “that’s my sister!” — but tonight it felt profoundly different.

Perhaps it was because you were so close, physically. Or perhaps because you had confided in Ford the secret crush you harbored on his brother. You trusted him not to tell but to hear it now, spelled out in the air, made you stiffen.

“She knows all my disgusting habits,” Stan finally said to break the silence, “I couldn’t trick her into it.”

He grinned at you in your peripheral, a certain softness in the corners of his mouth that weren’t usually there. You rallied your best grin back,

“Yeah, it would be weird. Right?” You chuckled nervously.

Stan, with unprecedented exuberance, nodded in agreement. “S’weird. I’ve seen you in your retainer. Could never fool around with you after that.”

Ouch. You pretended it didn’t feel like a blow to the stomach. “And you smoke too much. It would be like kissing an exhaust pipe.”

“See? It could never work.” Stan tore another beer off the plastic rings, drained it, then announced he was going on a walk. You watched his retreating form until you were sure that he could no longer hear you.

You whipped around. “Ford! What was that?”

“I’m sick of you two dancing around the subject. If you just dated I wouldn’t have to sit out here every few months when you inevitably get dumped because you’re with the wrong person.”

You groaned and slid down in the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands. You actually liked the smoke that clung to Stan’s clothes, the deft flick of his thumb striking up the lighter. Why did you tell him you didn’t?

You’re a coward, your inner voice accused. You panicked. It wasn’t like you could exactly agree with Ford, especially not after what Stan said about your retainer. Did he mean that?

If he did, that was worse than anything else. Not only did he not harbor a secret attraction, but he was repulsed at the idea of you together.

Stan stumbled back down the beach a few minutes later, to your chagrin. It was much easier not to think of him when he wasn’t in front of you; even like this, swaying on his feet and looking slightly green.

“Stan, are you —?”

He lurched and fell face forward into the sand.

Ford glared at you like it was your fault. “This is the last time.”

“Sure. Just get his other side.”

“Thank you again, hun.” Caryn Pines smiled sweetly at you. The small kitchen smelled profusely of her perfume and cigarette smoke, wrapping around you like an embrace.

“Yeah, of course. No big deal.”

Caryn looked at you strangely, in that way that adults did sometimes. “You’re always takin’ care of my Stanley. I know he ‘ppreciates it, even if he doesn’t say it.”

“I couldn’t leave him on the beach.” You took a bite of the babka that Stan’s Ma put out, chewing thoughtfully. “Again.”

Caryn always tried to feed you when you came over, no matter how fleeting of a visit. You had seen her sneak the food out of packages and container and pass it off as her own, but you didn’t care. It encompassed her parenting abilities — well-meaning but slightly manufactured, a desire to be the mother that she wanted to be but not exactly the drive to put in the work.

Either way, you knew she loved you like her own.

“Ya know, I see the way he looks at you. And you look at him. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure it out,” Caryn said.

Your face warmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s crazy ‘bout you. I know my Stanley.”

“But what if…what if we broke-up ? I can’t lose him in my life.” Tears strained your voice. Here you were, admitting your feelings to another Pines family member except for the one who actually needed to hear it.

Caryn clicked her tongue and edged around the island, pulling you into a hug. “But what if it’s great? What if it’s everything you imagined?”

“Maybe,” you said, muffled in her side.

Caryn gave you a final squeeze. “I could only pray for someone like you for my son. Say, you don’t happen to have a sibling for Ford, do ya?”

You shook your head. Caryn made a gesture like too bad then fiddled with the coffee machine.

“Here.” Caryn shoved a steaming mug in your direction, then wiped her hands on her dress. “Take this upstairs for me, will ya? I’ve gotta check on Shermie.”

You stood rooted in place for an embarrassing amount of time, mulling over what she had said. What if it was great? Your heart jumped. Maybe she was right. You would tell Stan.

Emboldened, you crept down the hall and past the living room. The TV flickered ghostly blue lights over the couch where Filbrick snored, and you were careful to avoid the creaky stairs. It wasn’t ever said aloud but everyone knew in the house not to disturb Pa after work. He wasn’t abusive, that you could tell, but somewhere on the verge of it.

Stan and Ford’s voice drifted from their shared bedroom — Stan’s gruff, drunken mumbles and Ford’s clever quips lined with affection.

You were going to tell him. You loved him.

A hitch of agitation in Stan’s voice made you pause at the first step, just out of earshot, a silver of light falling across you from the cracked door.

The delirious, bubbly feeling of excitement in your chest fluttered uncertainly.

“Oh, would give it a rest, Sixer?”

“Stan, I just think —”

“You know how I feel about her,” Stan interrupted. From your vantage point you could see him sprawled out on his bed, one hand over his face.

Her? Meaning you?

Your grip tightened on the mug. Here it was, the universe delivering you a sign that Caryn was right. That you were right.

The view didn’t offer any insight on Ford but you could hear his desk chair squeaking as he leaned backwards, contemplative. “And how do you feel about her?”

A beat of silence, the covers rustling as Stan lifted himself onto his elbows. “She’s my best friend.”

“Uh huh.”

“And-And of course I love her.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I could never date her.”

Your blood turned cold. What? Didn’t he just say that he loved you? Whatever brief, sweet bliss you had went plummeting into the ground. You turned away, coffee in hand, unable to listen to more.

Stan stared up at the ceiling, at the water stain that looked like an elephant. Sometimes when he tried to get his feelings out, the words would run circles around and around in his head until he chased them down. It didn’t help that he had drank so much.

Towards the end it wasn’t even really about Carla anymore, but you. You, with your dumb perfect face and laugh. The way that you stuck around despite knowing everything about him, about his family, leaving him feeling raw and infested like an overturned rock.

His stomach churned. Stan waited for the nausea to pass, pinning down his words before eking out, “I would fuck things up with her. It ain’t worth it. Losin’ her. Ya know?”

God he hoped he was making sense. The room was spinning and the elephant was now doing summersaults.

“I wouldn’t let you,” Ford quietly replied. “I know you love her. I’d stop you from fucking up.”

Stan laughed, dry and brittle. “No one can stop me. I’m a one man fuck-up.”

“You’ve never been one man.”

Stan curbed his nausea enough to look at his brother. Really look at him. Any other given day and he might’ve kicked him for saying something like that. His throat bobbed. “Yeah. Yer right.”

A moment passed between them, one of those brotherly, twin moments that he hadn’t felt since they were kids. Ford clapped his hands together.

“My first declaration of not letting you fuck up is to tell her tomorrow how you feel.”

“What? Tomorrow! No way.”

Ford narrowed his eyes. Stan waved a hand and flopped back down onto the bed, resigned. “Fine, fine. Hey, can you tell that elephant to stop moving? He’s bein’ a real dick.”

After that night, you avoided the Pines family like the plague, dodging after-class visits and letting calls go to the answering machine. Your parents asked where your “boyfriend” was, as they lovingly referred to him, but it only felt like salt in the wound. Stan would never be your boyfriend. He said it himself — he could never date you.

You hated the heavy grayness that clung to you, and most importantly, you hated that the one person you wanted to talk to about Stan was…Stan. And you couldn’t. How mortifying it would be to confess something so life altering for him to say that he only saw you as a friend.

Stan left message after message, wondering what he had done and if you could. But you couldn’t bear to see him. You ate lunch in the girl’s bathroom and nearly sprinted to your car after school, peeling out of the lot as soon as the final bell rang. He tried to come by your house, too. Your parents, loyal to you no matter how much they loved Stan, told him you weren’t there.

It was safe to say that, after a month of this, they were relieved when you stepped out of your room in actual clothes. Your mother actually clutched her pearls. “You look amazing. Where are you going? Did you make up with Stanley?”

You ignored that line of inquiry. “I have a date. Not with Stan,” you added, well aware that was the follow up question.

“Oh.” Your mother’s happiness faltered slightly. “Who with?”

“Just someone from school. I’ll make sure they drop me off before curfew.” You pretended to be oblivious to their probing stares, kissing them each on the cheek before striding out the front door to the idled car in the drive.

A dark shape shot out of the driver’s seat and scrambled to open up your door. Eugene glanced nervously at your house as you climbed in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to meet your folks?”

“I’m sure,” you said, monotone.

Eugene had been interested in you for a while now, but you always hedged your answers, not wanting to commit. Last week you finally said yes. You needed to get over Stan — even though the first thing you thought of was how he would laugh at Eugene for opening your door. You could just hear his rasping, seething laugh. Pussy, he would call Eugene, and you would punch him.

Throat thickening with tears, you forced yourself to admire Eugene in the glow of the streetlights that passed by. He was classically handsome. Smart, kind. A musician. Everything that, on paper, would make the perfect boyfriend. It was incredibly sweet that he wanted to meet your parents and open your car door.

Yet all you could think about was Stan: his untamed mullet and cauliflower ears from boxing, the nose slightly too large for his face that was crooked from all the fights he instigated. The braying sound of his laugh and how he thought it was funny to snap your bra strap. The fact that, beneath the jokes and the crude humor, he was soft and compassionate and an excellent artist. He always made you laugh. He was a million things that Eugene would never be.

But Eugene was one thing Stan wasn’t.

Interested in you.

You shoved all of that down by the time Eugene pulled up to your date, flashing him your most winning smile. A drive-in movie seemed innocent enough. You were confident that Eugene wouldn’t try to make any moves, but you still directed him to park near a minivan of children.

“Want to steal some candy from them?” You asked.

Eugene’s expression shifted as if you’d suggested something morally offensive. “What? From the kids?”

“I was just teasing,” you said. You hadn’t been.

Stan would’ve happily jumped at the offer, distracting the family with one of his wild stories while you snuck a pack of candy. The two of you would then share whatever snack and giggle the rest of the movie over your cleverness.

You felt like throwing up. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about Stan?

Abruptly you shoved open the door. “I’ll just go get snacks then.”

“Wait!” Eugene’s voice was muffled, you had already shot out of the car and nearly closed the door. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll pay,” Eugene said.

“It’s fine.”

You needed to get out. Needed to get away. Without waiting for any further questions, you slammed the door shut and stalked off towards the concessions. The night air was uncharacteristically cool, brushing over your flushed skin.

“Okay, calm down, you’re okay. You’re on a date with a nice guy,” you coached yourself.

“You’re on a date?”

You wheeled on your heel. Stan stood a few feet away, brow furrowed. His fur-lined jacket bulged with hidden contraband. “Stan?”

“You’re on a date?” He repeated, the timbre of his voice sinking dangerously low.

“Yes.” You raised your chin.

His jaw feathered. “I haven’t spoken to you in, like, a month. You’ve been dodgin’ my calls and avoidin’ me. What’s goin’ on? Now you’re on a date?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you bit back.

“You don’t?” Stan barked out a scathing laugh. “You just stopped talkin’ to me without any s’planation. What am I supposed to think?”

You stepped into line at concessions. “I don’t know, Stan.”

“Talk to me.” Your name on his tongue was a prayer. “Please. I can’t take this.”

A knot formed in your stomach. You ordered for you and Eugene then brushed past Stan, ignoring his protests. He followed you to Eugene’s car. You wretched open the door, intending to fling yourself inside, but Stan stopped it. He leaned down to peer at your date.

“Eugene? Really? This guy?”

Eugene sputtered. You gritted out, “Stan. Go. Away.”

Stan’s dark gaze bounced from you to Eugene, then back to you. The look on his face was unreadable. “Fine.”

The door shut with a resounding thud. It took all of your strength not to watch him walk away. You tore off the top of a box of M&M’s and shoveled the candies into your mouth.

“Was that Stan Pines? I thought you guys were, like, friends,” Eugene finally said.

“Not anymore.” The candies slid down your throat, suddenly dry and pasty.

“Oh.” Eugene pretended to fiddle with the radio, switching through stations. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mercifully, the movie screen flickered to life and saved you from more awkward conversation. You kept putting handfuls of candy in your mouth to keep from talking or interacting with Eugene at all. Frankly, you just wanted this date to end.

Eugene respected your space, too, which only worsened your conflicting emotions of shame and regret. You wished you could apologize to him but you couldn’t form the words.

You were jerked from your self-loathing when a huge shadow played across the screen, disrupting the movie. Yells of outrage sounded from across the grassy knoll, until the dark shape on the screen split apart. The candy in your stomach threatened to come up. The profile was unmistakably Stan’s, confirming your theory when you twisted around to spot him in front of the projector, entangled with Carla McCorkle.

He grabbed her hand, smirking at the enraged onlookers, and ran off.

Carla? Again?

Eugene examined you. “Do you…want to go somewhere else?”

“Yes. Please.”

He took you to get Dairy Queen, then dropped you back off at home. The passing shadows in the window told you that your parents had anxiously been awaiting your arrival. Eugene moved to get out, to open your door again, but you laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m really sorry. About tonight,” you choked out.

Eugene smiled sadly. “It’s okay.”

You kissed his cheek and climbed out of the car, up the stairs to your house. Eugene waited until you were safely inside before pulling away.

School sucked. You were forced to see Stan with any number of girls. In fact, it seemed as if he was going out of his way to flaunt them, the lingering touches and kisses. It burned you inside.

He preferred anyone but you.

Another month passed, each day growing more and more unbearable without your best friend, without Ford, the reliable foundation of your friendship. With the end of school approaching, so was college, the awaiting jaws of a monster threatening to swallow you whole. You couldn’t even tell them that you got accepted into your dream school.

When a hand grabbed your arm, the familiar face following, you were struck with a swell of emotions. But it wasn’t Stan. The body was all wrong, the measured expression never once belonging to him but his brother. Ford’s eyes were pleading. “We need to talk.”

“Stan can’t know about this,” you said after consideration. Ford nodded.

He brought you into a deserted classroom. You lingered near the door, not sure what to say after all of this time.

“Stan is falling apart,” Ford said without preamble. “I don’t know what happened, but neither of you can continue like this.” A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “I can’t.”

You inhaled. It wasn’t fair to drag Ford into this, but it was hard not to. You could never make him side against Stan. “I just…I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

You turned your face from him, ashamed. “I heard him. That night after we brought Stan home from the beach. He said…he said he could never date me.”

Ford’s face shutters closed. “Is that all you heard?”

“I didn’t need to stick around to hear about how abhorrent the thought of dating me is,” you replied, tone bitter.

Ford flipped open his messenger bag and rifled through it, muttering something that sounded a lot like “two idiots” before finding what he needed. He handed you a folded flyer. “Stan is throwing a party here this weekend.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“You should go.”

You glanced at the paper. The address stated a beach not far from your usual haunt, promising alcohol and a good time. Leave it to Stan to make invitations to a party like this, complete with crude renditions of women in bikinis. You clutched the paper. “I’ll think about it.”

Ford was halfway out the door when he stopped. “He really misses you.”

The words resonated with you the rest of the day. Sometime between meeting with Ford and that weekend, you decided you would go. Eugene told you he couldn’t go, he had to study, so you informed your parents you were going out and that was that. They let you without complaint, probably because you had been moping around the house the last two months.

Tonight you donned your best dress, black and sparkling and totally inappropriate for a beach party but when you bought it, at the mall with the twins, Stan hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you. There had been no reason to wear it until now and you secretly hoped he had forgotten about it so you could shock him all over again.

By the time you arrived, sweat had gathered at the base of your neck and dampened your hair. You regretted wearing the dress upon seeing the other girls in their bikinis and hotpants, and made a beeline for the keg to soothe your nerves.

The beer was sticky and warm. You sipped it, wishing that instead of being here with people you didn’t know (or care about) you were with Stan and Ford on lawn chairs. The usual. Instead you gazed out upon the rest of the party and found Ford, trapping someone into listening to his theories most likely, and Stan presiding over a beer pong games.

Almost as if your gaze was a beacon, Stan looked up immediately as you spotted him. A cord of familiarity, of affection, tied you together and you could feel its tug behind your navel.

Stan stormed over to you, kicking up sand in his wake. “What are you doing here?”

“Ford invited me.”

“He did?” Stan searched for his brother, who had conveniently found somewhere else to be. “Why are you here?”

“I got invited, remember?”

“Where’s Eugene? Is he here, too?”

“No.” You didn’t feel like giving him an explanation, didn’t need to. You especially didn’t want to tell Stan that it was because you were still in love with him.

His dark eyes hardened. “Where is he?”

“What does it matter to you?”

Stan’s mouth moved as if he was biting back a retort, debating whether to say it. He raked a hand through his hair. He spit. “It doesn’t.”

You spent the rest of the party drifting from place to place, never lingering long. The bonfire funneled smoke into the air, as inconsistent and tangible as you, a ghost on the outskirts. You’re not sure why you came, why Ford invited, why you were still here. The beer had given you a nice buzz, a certain looseness in your limbs, and you decided that was enough. You started up the sandy dunes, shoes in hand, when you heard the sand behind you being displaced by footsteps.

Stan followed you, silhouetted by the fire in an orange haze. “What do you want?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“No. You’re not.” You marched off.

He trailed behind. You thought that he might get bored or fed up and leave you alone but he persisted. Only once you hit the sidewalk did you furiously spin around. “What do you want?”

“I ain’t lettin’ you walk home by yourself,” he replied.

“I walked here by myself. I’m fine.”

Stan took a few steps toward you. “Just let me do this, okay?”

“It’s your party, you shouldn’t leave,” you replied.

“Exactly. My party. I can do what I want.” Stan drew to his full height, shoulders back, reminding you that without his rounded posture he cut an intimidating figure. But it wasn’t intimidation he sought, but protection — protection of you.

Your back molars gritted together. “Fine.”

It actually felt nice, relieving, actually, to walk side by side with him. He maintained a step or two behind you, undoubtedly sensing your anger, but you didn’t correct him. You stayed like that, your strange, wordless dance all the way to your house. When Stan moved as if to follow you inside, what he would’ve done before, you barred him from the door.

“You shouldn’t,” you told him softly.

His brow furrowed and Stan shoved his hands in the pocket of his jacket. The porch awning cast him half in shadows. “What did I do? I know you’re punishin’ me but what I can’t figure out is why.”

“I’m not…I’m not punishing you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Then what? Is it your new boyfriend?”

“Who, Eugene?” You shook your head. “No, this isn’t because of him. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?”

“No.”

“What ‘bout yer date?”

“It was just one time. And it was a mistake,” you admitted.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Stan’s infuriatingly handsome features were set in determination. You wanted to go to him, bury yourself in his chest and let him envelope you. But that same feeling twisted, grew sharp teeth that latched on and refused to let go.

“Why? What do you care?” You fired back. “You’ve been so busy with your tongue down every girl’s throat that I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t around.”

Something shifted in Stan, a spark igniting into an inferno. “You’ve been avoidin’ me and ignorin’ my calls, refusin’ to speak to me without telling me why. I don’t get it. If you’re so against me, then why do you care what I do?”

You hissed back, “I don’t. But it’s hard to miss when you’re dry humping your flavor of the week in front of the whole school.”

“How do you think I felt when I saw you with Eugene?”

You paused, his words soaking into your skin. The fist of anger in your stomach loosened at the pain in those words, if only slightly. “I didn’t know you were going to be there, Stan. And I didn’t think it would matter even if you were. You could never date me.”

“What?” Stan’s entire body stiffened.

“You said it yourself,” you said. You were loathed to say the words aloud, which made you cry, which only made you angry to be crying. “You could never date me.”

“When did I ever say that?”

“I heard you,” you said. You explained to him how you had overheard the conversation between him and Ford that night. He listened the entire time, quiet and unmoving.

Stan rubbed a hand over his face. “You didn’t stick around to find out why?”

“Sorry if I didn’t want to hear how repulsive and horrible I was,” you snapped.

“I told Ford that I couldn’t date you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. The last few months have been hell, doll. Going without you every day has been…unbearable.” Stan brushed his knuckles over your cheek, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t make me go through that again.”

You leaned into his touch, eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Stan. I only did it because I couldn’t stand to be around you if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Same way?” Stan’s mouth morphed into a tired, wistful smile. “I’ve loved you since that first day in class. Since you saw them passin’ that note and instead of bein’ upset you raised your chin.”

You faltered. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you.” Such a simple, genuine statement.

“Stan, I love you too. I’m so sorry —”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you how I feel. I’m an idiot.”

You touched his arm. “No, you’re not. Well, you are, but not because of that. I was scared too. And I hurt you.”

“I’m tough.” Stan lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. In his face you saw a whole lifetime of memories, of laughter. “But you gotta promise me not to ignore me again. Messed me up so bad that Ford said he saw me stare at a wall for two days straight without sayin’ a word.”

“You? Not talking?”

“I know.” Stan shuddered. His composure softened a bit, examining you as if seeing you for the first time. “When I told you that you were my girl, I meant it. You’re the only girl for me.”

In way of reply, you grabbed the front of his jacket and pressed your lips to his.

You had kissed before, in middle school, just to get the first one over with. It had been brief and awkward, his front tooth clashing off yours. This kiss maintained the same level of comfort, of familiarity and safety, but charged with a current of passion. He kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life to do it again, pulling you into him in a frenzied manner.

Stan’s tongue ran over the seam of your lips, parting them so that he could slip inside, invited by your breath of surprise. You melted into him. Everything about him, this moment, felt right. Perfect. His hands in your hair and roving over the form-fitting dress you had worn for him, sighing and muttering praises on your flushed skin.

You didn’t stop until the porchlight flickered on and the front door ensnared you in its beam. Stan still held you to him, lips bruised, frozen. Your mother took one look at you entangled together on the porch and then sighed in relief.

“Well, finally.”

[assriels]

mamma mia!

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: cassian has loved and longed for you for as long as he can remember, despite your long established relationship with his brother. he teeters on the edge of giving up on the idea of you ever loving him back. until…

(heavily inspired by ripley’s rendition of the original abba song)

warnings: angsty cassian, cass’s inner musings and monologue, very slightly alludes to sexual content

word count: 2.5k

a/n: first writing post on this silly little sideblog of mine :’) toying with the idea of a pt. 2 but i’m not too sure yet & credit to cafekitsune for the cute banner!

Cassian had never been so completely and utterly in love with anyone the way he was with you. One look at you smiling up at him made golden bells ring in his head, reverberating in his chest and filling his limbs with a tingling urgency to hold you. The feel of your skin and body slotting perfectly against his made the world stop spinning on its axis, leaving him lightheaded with sheer bliss. You incapacitated him in a way that not even the most fearsome of enemies he’s faced have before.

But you were not his. You would never be his.

You were Azriel’s through and through.

Though he would never think to scorn his brother for finding love, Cassian had asked himself on countless occasions…Why did it have to be with you?

You, who he would shun the very moon and stars his court cherished for. You, who could bring him to his knees with a simple brush of your fingers against his hand. You, who he wanted so intrinsically but could not have.

When he brought you to the townhouse all those decades ago, he had never once thought feelings like this would develop for you. At the time, he had just thought you a skilled fighter, one who could be trained and honed for the advantage of the Night Court. You were his friend and training partner. Someone he could shoot the shit with at the end of a long day, someone who listened and empathized and cared for him in a way no one else had before.

Cassian wasn’t entirely sure when he started realizing that his feelings for you ran deeper than friendship. He presumed he had begun to become aware of them after he had told you the story of his mother and you cried for him, looked into his eyes and told him you saw him.

He knew for sure he loved you after you had come to him in the middle of the night once, waking him to train. You had hit harder than you ever had before in between telling him of your own losses and suffering, cueing him into the nightmares that often plagued you because of them. That night he had stayed up with you until day broke over the horizon, exchanging stories and laughter and tears.

It was that night that he had unwittingly begun planning his future around you. He thought he had all the time in the world to explore these newfound feelings, wanted to let them simmer and develop with the beautiful slow burn courting that you deserved. He had wanted to take his time to do things right, show you just how much he cherished you, how much you held his devotion in the palm of your hand.

Cassian knew himself, and knew he fell hard and fast, and he never wanted to risk ruining things with you until he was absolutely certain you felt the same. But, if Cassian could turn back time, he’d kick his own ass and tell himself to just fucking tell you.

He never stood a chance, though. Not when you looked at Azriel like he had hand placed every star in the sky for you.

Initially, Cassian had been so blinded by his own infatuation with you that he failed to see the burgeoning love between you and Azriel. What he once thought was camaraderie between you blossomed into something much, much more. And it wasn’t until you had confessed to Cassian during one of your nightly training sessions that you felt crazy for falling for the Shadowsinger did Cassian finally piece everything together.

The lingering gazes, the pink cheeks, the brushing of hands beneath the table when you thought no one was looking.

It was all right in front of his face and he felt humiliatingly moronic for not noticing it sooner. His best friend — brother — and the love of his life, falling together like two pieces of a puzzle. He had felt his heart shatter that night, unable to respond to your heartfelt confession. You had taken it as confirmation that he thought you were crazy, that Azriel could never feel the same way that you did, and panicked. Cassian had been quick to assuage your fears, telling you that Azriel would be the insane one if he didn’t feel the same way, that you were more than Azriel could have ever dreamed of having in his lifetime.

Looking back on it now, he supposed he was confessing his own love to you. In a twisted, cruel sort of way, hoping that you’d see he was speaking of his own feelings rather than Azriel’s, that he was so desperately wanting to give himself to you the way you were eager to give yourself to his brother.

Part of him regretted placating you, and he wondered what might have been different if he had lied and said Azriel didn’t feel the same way. But he knew that would hurt you, and though he could be selfish, he loved you too much to ever be the source of your anguish.

Cassian would rather tear himself to shreds than make you cry.

And so he stood on the sidelines for the first time since becoming General of the Night Court and watched you fall hopelessly in love with Azriel.

It pained him to admit it, but the love you and Azriel shared was one for the legends. More nights than not, Cassian had willingly tormented himself, asking Azriel of the state of your relationship. Cassian had listened with rapt attention — desperate to gain any morsel of you that he could — as Azriel waxed poetic about how perfect and lovely you were. That he would quite literally go to war for the way you smiled at him, a sentiment that Cassian so deeply empathized with that he wanted to rip his hair out. Azriel loved you so completely, though — maybe even in ways that Cassian himself had never done — and he’d do anything to preserve your happiness.

Everyone else saw it, too. Said it was only a matter of time before the mating bond snapped into place. And when it did, it would be a nail in Cassian’s coffin, cementing his feelings beneath an ironclad lockbox six feet under.

But it hadn’t snapped yet, and Cassian could continue living in his self-indulgent fantasy of you for a little bit longer. Over the years, his love ebbed and flowed, sometimes almost disappearing before rearing its head in full force. But for the most part, he kept it under lock and key, watching with an aching heart as you and Azriel fell deeper in love with each passing moment.

Even now as he looked on at you and Azriel, cozied up on the balcony watching the array of stars pass during Starfall, Cassian didn’t let so much as an eye twitch give way to his true feelings. You and Azriel truly were a sight to behold; two of the most beautiful fae in the Night Court — probably all of Prythian — illuminated by the light of the stars. The thought made Cassian sigh, unable to tear his gaze away from you so beautiful, looking at another male with so much adoration twinkling in your eyes. He looked and looked even though it was shredding every last bit of dignity he had.

You said something that made Azriel toss his head back in laughter, your own tinkling chuckle winding with his in a beautiful symphony that curled around Cassian’s ears mockingly. He watched as Azriel placed a firm kiss to your forehead, muttering something against your skin that made you blush. He was sure it was something complimentary (and maybe even a bit lewd), what with how you looked tonight. And Cassian didn’t blame his brother one bit for wanting to let you know just how captivating you looked. Dress shimmering under the starlight, you were radiant, a perfect imitation of the stars streaking across the blackened sky.

Cassian’s hazel gaze slid to the curve of your back where he found Azriel’s ringed fingers teasingly playing with the zipper there, his lips pressed to the crown of your hair, no doubt whispering the fantasies and plans he had for the two of you once the night ended. Cassian forced his thoughts away from the image of you bare and wanting on the plush sheets of your bed, reaching up to skate your fingers across the tattoos on Azriel’s chest.

It was a sight he’d move Heaven and Earth to see, even if it were through his brother’s eyes. Even if he knew you’d never look at him the way he so desperately wished you could.

The ache of pining lingered deep in Cassian’s chest and he snapped himself out of his longing. He was being ridiculous, he thought. You and Azriel had been together for years — it must’ve been at least a decade by now. It was about time that Cassian had started the painful ascent from his fall for you all those decades ago.

Cassian knocked the rest of his drink back, and resolved to enjoy Starfall with you and the rest of his family despite the complicated stir of emotions that had plagued him for decades. But before he could turn and find Mor or Amren or Rhys, you were approaching him, two empty champagne glasses balanced between your fingers.

You smiled at him and he felt his chest tighten at the exhilarating urge to feel it against his own lips, “Enjoying Starfall, Cass?”

“Not as much as you, clearly,” he said with a wink, gesturing to the glasses in your hand. “That’s gotta be…what? Your sixth glass tonight?”

Teasing you like he always had came easy. No matter how he felt about you, you were still his dear friend, something he valued above almost everything else; he could put his love for you aside for right now.

You rolled your eyes and swatted at him playfully, “Seventh, actually. And I’m here to collect my eighth.”

You weren’t as drunk as Cassian thought you were, but you were pleasantly lightheaded, feeling floaty as you maneuvered around the room. A heady feeling of light relaxation settled in your bones. But maybe you were drunker than you thought, as one staggering, misplaced step had you stumbling over the hem of your dress.

Before you could fall and knock the entire table of faerie wine over, Cassian caught your elbow and steadied you. You turned to him, sheepishly offering him thanks and making a joke about your state of intoxication and lack of coordination.

Cassian didn’t hear any of what you said, though. Only felt the electrifying pulse of your skin beneath his fingers and a persistent tug beneath his ribcage. It was like something whipped into place, and he heard those golden bells again, taunting him as the breath whooshed out of his lungs like he’d been punched in the gut with an iron fist.

Mate, the bells sung to him.

Cassian thought he would pass out, and by the look of concern that swiftly marred your beautiful countenance, he knew he looked the part.

“Cassian? Are you alright?”

He let go of your elbow so swiftly that if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought you burnt him. He shook his head, schooling his features back into his usual playful demeanor with practiced ease, “I think maybe I’ll take this off your hands before you fall into the Sidra next.”

The Mother — cruel, cruel thing — knew he needed it.

He plucked the faerie wine from your hands and chugged as Azriel approached. The cocktail of emotions he swallowed burned their way down his throat much more painfully than the alcohol, and his head spun in such a way that not even the hard liquor at Rita’s could emulate.

The shadowsinger wrapped a steadying arm around your waist and Cassian did his best to tame the roiling possession that threatened to cleave his ribs apart.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t hear any of the conversation that he partook in with you and his brother; he could only hear the thundering of his pulse in his ears as he grappled with his revelation and the bittersweet feelings that came with it.

Wasn’t this what he’d been wanting this whole time? He should be happy, but he wasn’t.

His thoughts drifted to the past, hearing Azriel talking about you like you were an angel sent to deliver him from the clutches of earthly suffering. He remembered snippets, glimpsing into memories of his brother looking at you with a softness Cassian didn’t think he was capable of, recollections of him worshiping you in small, meaningful ways. It was the way Azriel was looking at you now, and Cassian felt a wicked, torturous twist in his gut.

In this moment more than any other, Cassian was cruelly reminded that while he loved you from afar for decades, Azriel had cultivated a life with you filled with passion and love and plans for the future.

The sound of your yawn broke Cassian out of his mental turmoil, demanding his attention once more. He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips at the cute way your nose scrunched when you yawned, sleepy tears collecting at the edges of your eyes. When he looked at you now, the noises echoing off the walls of the House were muted, muffled as his ears attuned to you and you alone.

You leaned into Azriel tiredly — something Cassian did his best to ignore — and fixed your gaze upon him.

“You should go and enjoy Starfall, Cass. You’ve been inside for the past hour,” you said, hints of fond amusement in your voice. “I heard that Feyre’s brought a friend that’s been dying to meet you.”

He knew you meant well, knew that you played matchmaker only because you wanted him to be happy and find the love that you knew existed. But your words and the conspiratorial wink you tossed his way, sent his heart into a painful spiral. Your encouragement that he put himself out there to find someone to love was a cruel reminder that you did not feel for him the way he felt for you.

“Maybe I’ll go find her, then,” Cassian responded, doing his best to maintain the nonchalant bantering tone everyone expected of him, despite knowing that you’d be going to bed with another male. His mate, happy in someone else’s — his brother’s — embrace.

It was only when Azriel led you away with a laugh and a quick goodnight in his direction did Cassian allow himself to loose the breath he was holding.

Mate, that persistent voice in his head whispered, which he pointedly ignored as he sauntered off to find Feyre, desperate to rid himself of the gnawing guilt and sick heartbreak that clawed at his chest.

Holy Mother above… the Cauldron was cruel and he was so fucked.

part 2

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SEVEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @h34rtsformilli @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l (sorry about these ones that didn’t work ☹️) @yassedsblog @jissy22 @blank-blank80 @brynslverr @melinaaa3 @alex-1347 @lolbods @girlypop05

kalena speakss 🪽! this is a filler chapter, everything starts to ramp up and get more messy (as if it isn’t already) starting next chapter ;)

June 2025 — New York City, New York

“Don’t even bring that up, oh my God.” Rickea laughs, reaching one of her long arms over to slap at my knee.

Rickea, Cameron, and I sit soundly in the green room, makeup placed deliberately on our faces. We played the Liberty last night, in a game with an outcome I would rather forget than talk about.

But today, after the team hopped on the first charter back to LA, we had a date with GQ. They called it The Teammates Quiz, and we were given the honor of being the first women’s sports team with the opportunity. I thought it was a cool idea, a game that I would certainly win because I know my teammates well.

However, it seems like these two know me just as well because they are airing my business out to everybody in this room right now. Well, maybe not all of it, but close enough. 

“Kea, you fell on your face in the middle of downtown LA. I’m with P, I’m so bringing it up.” Cameron laughs.

“I was drunk!”

“You were more sober than P. And she drinks like a man going through a divorce.” I instantly pull back from my makeup artist, looking over at my teammate incredulously.

“I do not!” I attempt to defend. “You two insisted on buying drinks after the draft, not me.”

Cameron, who’s seconds away from bursting out in tears of laughter, speaks up through her ragged breaths. “You got so drunk you were making out with random girls in the club.”

“Least I ain’t fall on concrete in the middle of LA.” I laugh, sitting back in my seat and allowing Joanna to get back to doing my makeup. I let her and Brittany take control of my look, they know best after all. 

You would think with the way the three of us all talk to each other that our on court chemistry is terrible, but it’s the complete opposite. Probably why GQ asked us to do this little segment today. I cut my attention back to my teammates when Rickea’s voice cuts through the air again.

“Have you talked to Raye lately?”

The way she asks it seems skeptical. Like she knows something, or is suspicious of something and I can’t pick up why. We’ve been keeping our friendship pretty cordial— at least to our friends and in public.

Maybe Maraye told her about the kiss. Maybe Maraye told her literally nothing, and Rickea is just trying to pry as she does often.

“Uh yeah, we hung out a few nights ago.” I respond, so lucky that Joanne is angling my head in the opposite direction, successfully hiding my growing red face from my teammates. “She’s pretty cool.”

Which isn’t a lie, we did hang out a few nights ago. Only my lips start tingling whenever I think about it. I swear I can taste her still on them all these hours later; like a mix of every single dessert on the planet. So damn sweet. I wonder if she always tasted like that, or if she tasted different elsewhere. 

And yes, Maraye is pretty cool. Pretty funny, pretty smart, pretty talented, pretty. So fucking pretty.

I’m realizing now that three days has been too damn long. To see her damn near everyday, then not at all for a week, then again in which I end up with my tongue down her throat. To not have been within inches of her for 72 fucking hours has me going just a bit crazy.

“I didn’t know y’all were hanging out.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that.” I fire back too quickly. It makes it seem defensive, and it’s not. I have nothing to hide. 

Well yeah I do, but I think I’m pretty good at hiding it.

“Paige.” Cam says, cutting into the conversation awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

I slouch back in my seat and Brittany, who I swore just magically spawned behind me, slaps my shoulder telling me to sit up. “I didn’t! You guys can’t ever just trust me.” I laugh.

“‘Cause you get caught doing stupid shit!” Rickea explains.

“Caught?”

“Caught? Again?”

“You haven’t seen twitter?”

Those four words always make my heart beat out of my chest. The internet is cool when it comes to me, out of pocket sure, but cool. But on the off occasion that they aren’t, it’s because they are either making shitty posts about what i’m doing on the court, writing think pieces, or minding my business rather than their own. I’m assuming, in context to Maraye, that it’s the latter.

“The fuck happened this time.” I ask with a huff. The first time, I had gotten too comfortable at the club. Which was admittedly my own drunken fault. The second time I was trending because people swore up and down I was making goo-goo eyes at Taylor Rooks. Which I was, she’s absolutely unreal. And now here we are.

Cameron is the one who looks first, and by the look of her face I assume it’s pretty telling. Rickea hands me her phone. I take it, slightly shaking and I don’t know why. 

My eyes are stuck to the screen, and it’s four pictures. I’m not sure who took them, but Maraye has reached A-list status and I forget the Paps are everywhere when it comes to her. 

The first is us leaving the bar in Atlanta. Maraye’s head isn’t in the shot, she’s busy hopping into the backseat of our uber, but mine is. It’s very obviously me, my signature braids down the side of my face rather than in the usual ponytail. My hand is stuck comfortably in the pocket of my zip up while the other holds the door open for her.

The second photo is from when we’re seated at Waffle house. I’m showing all 32 while Maraye talks, and it makes us look like a fucking couple. Her arms rest on the table, head slightly tilted. From the angle, again, you can’t see all her face but her side profile is obvious. Anyone could point it out and recognize her.

But it’s the last two that make us look the most guilty. My arm draped over her shoulder is very incriminating. She held her pink lemonade flavored slushee in her hand, looking up at me. One more swipe and I’m looking at myself paying for those two slushee’s. It doesn’t help that my jacket from earlier that night is now zipped up over her body. 

‘Paige Bueckers and Maraye Carter in atl this weekend 😲’  Reads the tweet. It’s messy, even more when I scroll further and see people putting pieces together. The replies are full of videos from opening night, screenshots of my recent activity in her instagram likes, and of course, of course, someone had to have seen me in my seat at her concert.

It looks bad. I would say worse than it is, but it all doesn’t even scratch the surface. 

“We just friends.” I mumble, I wouldn’t be surprised if my nose grew a centimeter or two. “Y’know how people get.”

I hand Rickea her phone back. She’s the one I should be scared off, Cameron has been done with my relationship issues since I first met her as kids. But Kea? After the talk about leaving Maraye alone, and how I know better, and how I don’t need to get hurt. I’m terrified that I’m about to get caught.

“Has she seen these?”

“Ion know.” She responded. “Probably. But If you two are jus’ friends’, then don’t sweat it. Hollywood moves fast.”

Really fast. 

—

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

“You’re literally a fan, shut up.” I joke at the blonde sitting besides me.

She’s messily scarfing down her chipotle bowl as we sit in her car. The windows are tinted nicely and my album shuffles through her speakers, even though she swears up and down that she didn’t add it to her library.

“Am not.”

“Yeah yeah, pinocchio.”

It’s my first time seeing her since the night in my condo, and it’s awkward. Which is weird because Paige and I have never been awkward together. Everything was always smooth, fluid, when it came to her. But now I don’t know what to say.

I blame it on the kiss.

It should’ve never happened. She knows that, I know that. Even then I don’t regret it. 

I’ve never in my life had feelings for a woman before, until now. And it’s so weird because I think I still have feelings for Julian too. It’s not the same thing though. Julian is perfect for me. Good job, family man, tall, handsome, the most gorgeous and perfect curly hair I’ve ever seen. Then there’s Paige, and she just might be perfect for me too. Work oriented, funny, insanely smart even though I tell her she’s not. 

So I sit silent in her passenger seat, not a clue in the world of what I should say to her. She makes me nervous, she makes the bottom of my stomach twist up whenever I look at her and see those beautiful blue eyes. I shouldn’t feel that way, I know that. But damn does she make it hard.

“Maraye?”

“Yeah?”

Paige chuckles, reaching over to wipe a bit of Vinaigrette from my lip. “I said ‘you good?’”

I nod and my head moves slightly away from her reach. “Yeah. Why?” I ask, taking a generous bit from my burrito.

“Because you’re sittin’ there all quiet.” She explains. “I know we kissed and all that but I ain’t think you would stop bein’ cool around me.” She says in an attempt to ease the atmosphere, the obvious tension that bounces off walls.

“It’s not that.” I mumble.

She puts the lid on her bowl, reaching towards the back seat to drop the trash in the brown chipotle bag. When she turns back to face me, I get a great look at her for the first time all night. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands slightly framing her face.

“Then what is it, Raye?” Paige slouches in the seat. “‘Cause don’t get me wrong, I feel some typa way about you but we’re friends first—”

“I wanna kiss you again.” I blurt out. It’s word vomit, like I can’t help but tell her how badly I want her lips on mine and her tongue in my mouth. Hands on my waist, my ass, in my hair. 

She laughs, and I pray to God she’s not laughing at me. “That’s why you can’t talk to me anymore?”

“I wanna kiss you, but I know how wrong that is. I have a boyfriend, and everyone already thinks something is going on here.” My finger gestures between the both of us.

“You saw the pictures?” Paige cuts me off. Her hand slips forward to grab her phone.

“Did you?”

“Kea showed me them yesterday.”

We sit in silence. I’m trying to process her response. 

“Did, uh, did Julian see them?” She asks.

Shit. Julian. It seems like I’m constantly forgetting about him whenever I’m with her. Always. I’m such a fucking asshole. 

“No, I-I didn’t show him. I don’t think I needed to.” I explain through my stutter. He didn’t need to see them. One, because it wasn’t anything serious. The photos made Paige and I look bad, sure, but there was nothing to worry about. It would only make me and him argue, and we do enough of that already.

“Good.” She nods. “He probably shouldn’t anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know I really wanna kiss you too.” Paige says. I thought that was it. The kiss happened once, and we were back to being friends. Being normal.

“Paige—”

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“P, quit it.”

“I keep thinking about how you taste. Like all day. And I shouldn’t, I know that, but you make it fuckin’ impossible.” The blonde sighs. Her eyes fall shut like it’s painful, painful to not kiss me. 

I shake my head, hoping that it’s enough for her to stop talking about it. “Paige, you and I are friends. That’s it. I have a boyfriend, and you’re not a home wrecker. We aren’t doing that again.”

She goes quiet. Then her eyes open and she turns back towards the wheel. It’s 10:30 at night and she has a game in the morning. Paige’s hips raise slightly to fix her sweatpants. A pulse races through me when it happens. 

“You understand? We can’t.” I ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, just friends.” Paige says.

I want to believe her. I really do. But the look in her eyes tells me I shouldn’t. Those blue orbs I know so well are suddenly a deep color, pupils wide. She slightly bites the corner of her lip, staring at me like I could run away.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I push at her shoulder, a chuckle escaping my lips. “I’m serious. No kissing, no flirting. I’m not a cheater, P. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know, I know. I won’t.” She responds. “But if it happens?” Paige leans into me again. Her hand flicking a curl away from my face before playing with it. She stares at me with intensity.

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I’m not apologizing for it.”

And then she pulls back, sitting in her seat and pulling her seatbelt over her body. She turns the engine on without even a second thought.

I sit there speechless, burrito growing cold between my hands. And I know, without a doubt, no matter how badly I want to hold out and follow through on my promise.

Paige is dangerous, and I don’t think I have it in me.

She’s gonna win. Again.