#but he won’t let a little thing like that stop him

[ponderingmoonlight]

Seeing JJK men shirtless for the first time

Pairings: (true form) Sukuna x fem! reader; Nanami x fem!reader; Choso x fem!reader; Gojo and Geto x fem!reader; Ino x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Ijichi x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k (this is literally one third of my bachelor thesis lmao)

Warnings: Spice in Sukuna's, a little bit in Choso's and in Toji's part, true form Sukuna so slight spoilers regarding his appearance, I'm sorry but Choso's part is a lil shitty

Notes: You guys...This has to be my biggest fic yet and let me tell you, I poured my heart and soul into this piece. So please, if you find the time, leave me a like, a comment or a reblog. I appreciate it more than you could imagine 🤍

Sukuna

You don’t even know how you ended up here. To be exact, it still feels like a feverish dream to you. Only one second ago, you were on your way to find your friends, injured with your shoulder throbbing each passing second. But now…

Your eyes roam around the barely lit area, gleaming in that unpromising red light that runs shivers down your spine. There is absolutely no logical explanation for how you ended up here.

“Sure took you some time to finally wake up again.”

That dark voice hollering at you, the sarcastic undertone in it. It’s a man, without any doubt. And just by the sound of his masculine voice you can tell that he’s build like a wall.

Is it wise to move forward, to discover this place? Well, standing here like an idiot definitely won’t help to find a way out of here, right? And you definitely need to find out who that man is…

“Who are you?”

Your voice gets lost against the tall walls, echoes back at you over and over again. But no answer.

“Are you the reason for me being here?”

There is no doubt in the fact that his eyes are all over you. Like a hunter, he roams around you in silence while your tingling nerves almost cause you to lose your mind. Who is he? Where are you? What is all of this?

Your feet dash forward once again. Straight into the darkness, chasing after a dim beam of light that catches your interest immediately. Maybe this is your way out, maybe you’ll get to meet your friends again, maybe-

Suddenly your breath gets stuck in your throat, feet stopping immediately. That thing…

You swallow hard, eyes fixated on the most muscular male upper body you’ve seen in your entire life. No, this isn’t a thing. This is a grown man.

“Stop staring at me like that”, he growls with his now familiar voice.

This is him, the person who talked to you earlier. You want to confront him, want to ask him for a way out, but instead you stare him up and down. Those oh so muscular four arms decorated by hypnotizing tattoos, a chest so broad it takes you all your strength to outstand the urge to press your head against it. But what really catches you off guard is his mouth. No, not the mouth on his face. Your gaze gets caught by the parted lips that cover his stomach, teeth exposed to threatful that the thought of getting killed crosses your mind for a split second.

“Are you done now, stupid girl?”

Before you even realize what’s happening, you find yourself lying in his arms, his body pressed so tightly against yours that you fail to breathe. His half naked body, muscles touching your bare skin…

Oh god, this is so wrong. There is no doubt in the fact that this is Sukuna in his true form, the king of curses in his full glory. And you? You are nothing but a tiny human compared to him, an ant underneath his boot.

But why does it feel so good, then? Why do your knees give him, why does your body start to throb in places where it shouldn’t?

A whimper escapes your lips, body almost collapsing into itself when you can feel his mouth there.

Against your bare skin.

Caressing the sensitive flesh of your thighs.

“If you just break into my kingdom like that, then I can do whatever I want with you”, he whispers against your ear.

“P-please”, you groan, not even knowing yourself what exactly you’re begging for.

“(y/n)?”

You close your eyes, searching for the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

“(y/n)!”

No, don’t open your eyes, don’t get distracted.

“(Y/N)!”

When your eyes dart open again, you aren’t greeted by Sukuna’s stinging gaze. No, the innocent eyes that look at you filled with worry belong to someone else.

“Man, you really have me worrying out here for you. You just broke down and started whimpering”, Yuji explains while lifting you off the ground.

Was it…all a dream?

Nanami Kento

Your heart races, blood rushing through your ears like electricity. You told him right from the start that leaving on his own wasn’t a good idea, that the injuries of other jujutsu sorcerers make you believe this might be a special grade curse.

But Nanami Kento never listens when you worry about him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but it seems like there’s a gaping wound placed under my ribcage on my right side.”

You didn’t hesitate a single second, rushed after him with your little case like you always do. As Shoko’s co-worker, it’s your responsibility to look after injured jujutsu sorcerers. Even though you’ll never be as good as her, you will always make it your mission to help as fast as possible.

Especially him.

His signal grows stronger and stronger with every step you dash towards his location, mind racing back and forth. A gaping wound, what is that supposed to mean? Did he get hit by a gun, a curse? You don’t allow yourself to catch your breath, eyes focused on the little dot that comes closer.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? You really don’t need to rush to my side like that.”

A wave of relief washes over you when you see him leaning against the wall of a public toilet. But only until you catch a glimpse of the deep red tissues covering the sink and ground, his usual dark blue shirt discoloured in horrific crimson.

All colour drains from yourself while you lunge yourself at him, thick fear rushing through your veins.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You already lost a hell amount of blood”, you press out, inspecting the wound carefully.

This looks bad. Really really bad. If you don’t act right now, if you don’t start to use your technique immediately…

“Take off that shirt. Now”, you instruct him without waiting for his response while putting on gloves and showering your hands in sanitizer.

You fail to understand the meaning of your automatic words until he stands in front of you, bare chested.

Oh.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat all over again, eyes shamelessly discovering the way his muscular chest rises and falls steady.

“Did you just…”

Suddenly your mouth feels dry like the desert, mind unable to form a single sentence. Since you know Nanami Kento, you always know him as that well-dressed gentlemen in that suit that makes his butt look delicious and his shirt that leaves you pondering about the way he might look underneath when you’re supposed to work. There was never an opportunity to peek at more than his veiny forearm. And now this force of a man is standing right in front of your hungry eyes, showing you that reality is so much better than everything you could have imagined.

“Sorry, didn’t you tell me to take my shirt off?”

“I…”

When Shoko wasn’t around, you always pondered about the way he might look under his dark blue shirt. Do his tight muscles draw those valleys onto his belly you’ve seen on TV before? Does his biceps have that popping vein his forearms make you suspect?

You can’t help but allow your eyes to roam around his frame freely. That little scar decorating his chest. Is it from a fight? And that minor trail of untrimmed hair that lets your gaze wander to places…

“I don’t want to be rude but…I’m not feeling that well, (y/n). Would you mind treating me?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Blood rushes into your cheeks immediately, face heating up by the horrific thought that he caught you staring at his bare chest like an idiot. Fuck, he definitely thinks you’re nothing but a freak now. What if he’ll ignore you from now on? What if you won’t see him again after that? What a dumbass you are, didn’t you see countless men without a shirt on already-

“Hey, stop worrying. I’m more than flattered that I caught the attention of someone like you but…let’s do this when I’m feeling better.”

Your widened eyes fail to leave his oh so gorgeous face while your trembling hands go to work, mind too focused on what he just said.

“Let’s do what?”, you finally breathe out.

Is this…a smile forming on Kento Nanami’s lips? You feel like tripping all over again, heart pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you might pass out right by his side any given moment.

“I like the way you look at me, (y/n).”

What a simple reply. And yet, his words send you into another dimension.

“You…WHAT?”

Choso Kamo

Your body threatens to fail you, eyes in desperate search for Yuji. When Megumi finally gave in and told you he went out on his own, you almost lost your mind. Yuji, Sukuna’s vessel, on his own in Shibuya when everyone chases after him? Megumi definitely deserves another slap for that.

You sprint down the empty hallways of Shibuya’s train station, following the distant sound of battle. Please, let Yuji be alright. As his bigger sister, it was always your aim to protect him. When Yuji joined Jujutsu High, you did as well. When Yuji decided to fight in first row, you did too. There is no way you’ll allow your little brother to die, even though technically you aren’t related by blood. But even as your step brother, you can’t afford to lose him.

“Yuji?”

Nothing. Your body hollers back at you unanswered, mind slowly but surely starting to get into panic mode as the sound of cracking metal grows closer and closer.

And then you see it, the chaos that lays itself out in front of you dipped in neon purple lights. Blood is splattered across the area, the floor swimming in water that escapes the nearby toilet.

The toilet…You furrow your eyebrows. Is this… a wave of pink hair?

“Yuji?”

His eyes meet yours. The so determined gleam in them escapes instantly when fright replaces it.

“Get away from here right now, (y/n)!”, he screams at you just before a fist pushes him into a nearby wall violently.

Your brain threatens to fail you, body dashing into the toilet without thinking twice. Whoever this is will pay for hurting your brother so violently, for causing all this mess.

“Didn’t I tell you to walk away?”, Yuji questions with an irritated voice.

“And I told you more than once that I won’t leave you hanging!”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Are you two done?”

A male voice that makes you turn your head instantly. The second your eyes find him, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Oh, what a force of a man he is with strands of dark hair sticking to his wet face, his gorgeous eyes looking at you so unbothered. But what almost sweeps you off your feet is the way his robe allows you a single peek at his firm muscles that are lit by neon purple.

“Oh my”, you mumble to yourself.

Who on earth is this guy? Why is he fighting Yuji? But most importantly…Why does he have to look so steaming hot?

“Why are you not moving, (y/n)? Get out of here right now”, Yuji taunts urgently.

“What a waste”, you jeer at the man in front of you while taking a few steps towards him.

Choso can’t help but look at you bamboozled. How you move so confidently even though you don’t even know who he is, your eyes still fixated on…

His body? Are you looking at his abs?

“That a handsome guy like you acts like this.”

His eyes widen unintentionally, hands not daring to move. He should kill you right on the spot, should end your life just like that of Itadori Yuji. You’re partly responsible for the violent death of his brothers as well, given the fact that you’re also wearing that uniform. But his tight fists don’t dare to move a single inch, glued to his sides.

“Idiot, you don’t even know who you’re talking to. I will kill you just like Yuji Itadori, I will-“

“Will you, though?”

You come to a stand in front of him.

“W…What are you doing, (y/n)?”

Yuji’s voice shifts into the background. This definitely isn’t the first time you get close to a handsome man, but the others definitely weren’t that handsome. Just one look into his surprised eyes, the delicate marks on his face. And that force of a body. There is no doubt in the fact that this man trains a lot.

“I am distracting him, what else?”, you purr.

“I am not distracted.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Before he’s able to think about your words any further, you wrap your longing arms around his neck and hold him firmly against yourself.

“Because your eyes tell me something else.”

Now it’s Choso who fails to breathe. He never understood the simplicity of tender touch, the urge that drives humans almost crazy. What is so special about another hand placed against your skin, about lying in each other’s arms? He might have never understood if it wasn’t for you. You with your arm wrapped around his neck. You, with your free hand wandering down his chest, the wet fabric exposing his tight muscles without mercy.

In the split of a second, he begins to realize what touching each other seems to be about.

“Respect. Out of all the trained men I see on a daily basis, you have to be the most handsome one out of all. You work out a lot, don’t you?”

Your fingertips discover the valleys of his abs even further, force Choso to feel an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, has never seen you before. How is it even possible for you to have this power over him?

“None of your business, idiot”, he breathes out.

“What’s your name?”

Your voice does things to him his mind fails to understand, his sharp breath now hanging in the air between both of you. You are threatening, your glowy eyes showing more than urgently that you aren’t playing. But that slight smile on your face, the confidence dripping from every pore of your body…Who are you?

“Choso Kamo.”

“I’m (y/n)”, you reply while allowing your eyes to take one last glance at his tight abs.

Oh, you’ll definitely regret what you’re about to do. What if you won’t get to see him afterwards, the most handsome man you ever laid eyes on? There’s no other way, though.

“And I hope I’ll get the chance to be this close to you again.”

One innocent kiss pressed against his soft lips. One innocent kiss that sends him straight onto the ground, emerged into nothing but darkness. A pretty useful cursed technique, probably the reason why you get called femme fatale at Jujutsu High.

“What a shame, I really liked that guy”, you comment with Yuji coming to a stand right by your side.

“You didn’t have to touch his abs like that…”

“Oh I definitely did”, you reply instantly.

Your hands brush over his upper body one last time before you turn around and walk away.

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

What a lovely day. Well, lovely apart from the stinging fact that you are forced to babysit the vessel of Tengen-sama when a bunch of bounty hunters chases after you. Your shaded eyes roam around the area without any break, too scared of the consequences that carelessness could have. In contrast to Gojo, you take this task very seriously. You, who is nothing but an average jujutsu sorcerer at jujutsu high, surpassed by her classmates a long time ago. Who, who only got the chance to go on this mission by coincidence.

Well, and then there’s him.

“(y/n), why are you not wearing a bikini? We’re at the beach, aren’t we?”

Gojo Satoru, the honoured one. Of course, they would choose him to escort the plasma vessel. It’s only logical for him to be here.

“We’re on a mission, Satoru”, you remind him urgently without even looking his way.

“Hey, are you alright? There’s no need to be so tense, (y/n). We have everything under control.”

And then there’s also him, Geto Suguru. The boy with the most charismatic smile you’ve even seen, so gentle and kind that it’s almost unbelievable he’s even talking to Satoru.

“I won’t be tense when she’s finally with Tengen-sama. This mission is very important to me”, you mumble with your eyes fixated on Riko and Misato walking in front of you, completely unbothered by the fact that both of them almost died more than once.

“Hey, stop looking so serious, (y/n)! I’m here to save you if it get’s heated”, Gojo purrs from behind, literally forcing you to roll your eyes behind your sunglasses.

“Why do you always have to tease her like this? (y/n) can help herself and you know that”, Geto remarks instantly, letting himself fall behind to mumble something you can’t understand into his best friend’s ear.

You worked your ass of for this opportunity, always stayed longer than anyone else on the training field, always learned until far past midnight while everyone else was sound asleep. There was never anything except getting a better jujutsu sorcerer in your life. God, you didn’t even have a single boyfriend in all those years.

Enough. You straighten your shoulders and force your eyes onto Rika again. For now, you have a job to do. There’s no time to think about something so wasteful as boys.

Your gaze roams around the beach before you allow the plasma vessel to get into the water with a wink. No one but a little family without cursed energy is located around you, so everything should be fine. Also, Gojo would have detected an enemy with his six eyes. Gojo…where on earth is he, though?

When you turn around in order to follow his and Geto’s muted voice, your breath gets stuck in your throat. You really don’t know what you expected when going to the beach with both Suguru and Satoru, but that? Both of them wear nothing but shorts and a shirt – an opened shirt. Your gaze hits their bare chests one after another, races back and forth while your mouth opens on its own. To be honest, you’ve never seen a real guy shirtless. Maybe here and there at the swimming pool when you were training or at the beach. But they weren’t like them. They weren’t this toned.

“Enjoying the view, (y/n)? Looks like a cat got ya tongue, huh?”, Satoru jeers at you.

“Not every girl looks at you, Satoru”, Suguru comments dryly.

“Hey, are you alright, (y/n)?”

You missed out.

Fuck, you definitely missed out.

How is this he first time you saw both of them shirtless? Geto with a firm body that doesn’t match his soft personality at all. Gojo, who isn’t only blessed with his immense powers but with a god-like body as well.

“I…Uh…”

You can’t find words. How are you supposed to say anything logical when your heart almost beats out of your chest? They were never more than comrades to you, never more than strong jujutsu sorcerers you look up to. But damn, at this very moment, you truly see them as man.

Suguru puts his hand on his hip which makes his muscles dance delicately, head tilted to the side in sheer confusion while he walks towards you. Lord have mercy, you really are doomed. How are you supposed to concentrate on this mission when now you’re aware of how they look underneath those strict uniforms?

“Are you feeling unwell? It’s totally fine if you go back to the ho-“

“No”, you interrupt Suguru immediately when he puts his hand on your shoulder.

His bare hand.

While he stands in front of you with his bare chest.

You never longed for men. No, your only interest has always been your training, to become greater, better, faster, stronger. But at this very moment, when both of their toned bodies stare right back at you, you suddenly feel a weakness you’ve never felt before, a hunger that was unknown until now.

“Can’t you see that (y/n) is busy staring at us right now, Suguru? Bet that’s your first time ever seeing something apart from training”, Satoru teases you.

Faster than your mind is able to follow, he stands in front of you, grabs your wrists and presses your palm against his naked chest. His heartbeat pulsates against your fingertips, forces a warmth between your legs you’ve never felt before. Those tiny hair that tickle against your oversensitive skin, the heat that radiates from his body, that makes you almost faint.

You stumble back a few steps only to get caught by Suguru, who presses you against his body firmly.

“Hey, are you not feeling well?”

“I…I…”, you stutter.

Oh god, you feel like dying and flying at the same time, lying like an idiot in Suguru’s arms while Satoru still grins at you.

“Want me to take off my pants as well, (y/n)?”

“SATORU!”

Ino Takuma

“Why do I have to train with this jerk again?”

Your eyes roll backwards while you let yourself fall onto a nearby bench theatrically. God, how much you hate that guy, the way he always acts so competent around Nanami makes your guts turn in pure disgust. Doesn’t he understand that you are better than him, that you are Nanami’s favorite student? Ino Takuma doesn’t stand a chance against you.

But why does Nanami insist on both of you training together, then?

“Because both of you need to work on your abilities and you complement each other perfectly.”

“That’s not true!”, you answer along with each other instantly.

No, you despise Ino with all your heart. There’s nothing you could learn from him. Him with that stupid grin, him with that dumb confident walk, him in that oversized black sweater.

“I will be back after my mission. It is your choice how you spend your time until then. Stay safe.”

Fuck, Nanami knows exactly what he did with those words. Of course, there’s no way around spending your time with that jerk now.

“Can you stop breathing so fucking loud?”, you jeer at him.

“Me? Nothing but hot air comes out of your mouth. Save your breath, idiot”, Ino bites back instantly.

“You know what? Let’s start right now. I can’t wait to beat your puny ass.”

You dash to the other side of the large room after bumping into his shoulder provocatively. There is no doubt in the fact that you will make Ino regret coming into your life like this. You are the one and only one who deserves a recommendation from Nanami and not him. Just one look into his oh so confident face makes your veins pulsate.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared, (y/n)?”

You let out your shaky breath, hands balling into tight fists. That fucker will regret every stupid comment he ever made when you’re done with him.

“If you were as good at staying dumb stuff as you were at fighting, you’d probably be a special grade by now.”

He dashes towards you with his mask covering his face. Just in time, you are able to dodge his merciless attack while holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. Over and over, he tries to hit you, tries to distract you while you swing your swords without regard as well.

“I won’t lose this fight, (y/n)”, he presses out while pushing you backwards.

“I won’t either.”

Over and over, again and again, your body collapse against each other, his flying fist missing your face only by inches. You have to fight back harder, sweat sticks to your forehead while you squint your eyes in order to follow his rapid movements. How much you hate to even think about the stinging fact that Ino is a decent fighter, that both of you actually meet eye to eye.

You ball your fists even tighter, let your powers roam free in your pulsating veins. Still, you won’t allow him to win this. You will stump him into the ground, make Nanami proud, show him that you deserve his recommendation. This is your only way to become a grade 1 sorcerer, to surpass Ino.

With one well-placed dash of your bare hand, his sweater gets torn into pieces while you position yourself in front of him, so ready to give him that last hit he deserves, so ready to win this fight.

This fight…Your eyes follow the movement of your hand, watch how the black fabric hangs on for dear life, how it reveals something you’ve never seen before.

Your eyes widen in sheer surprise, blinking against the sudden sensation that hits you. Are those really Ino’s abs? So well-toned that you simply can’t look away, covered in a layer of glittering sweat and flexed to the brim.

“Oh my god”, you mutter to yourself.

This is definitely not the sight you expected. Of course you know how much he trains, that he has to be somehow fit. But that?

“Why you’re looking at me like that?”

“You look like fucking adonis”, you spit at him.

“Why do you have to look so damn good?”

“Huh?”

“This is not fair”, you continue, grabbing his arm and yanking him towards you.

“You don’t deserve to look like that.”

“Are you out of your mind, you idiot?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

Like in slow motion, a sudden redness creeps up his face and discolors his cheeks red.

“Just shut the fuck up”, he continues.

Your eyes travel downwards his body again. What a great figure, what a body of steel. Why does it have to be Ino Takumo who looks this damn good? Why on earth does it have to be him? Your cheeks heat up like fire, a nauseous feeling threatening to eat you up alive. Is it even more disgust, more hatred than you already hold for him? No, this feels somehow different.

Is this…desire?

“I need to get out of here”, you announce before turning on your heel and aiming to walk away.

“No, there’s no way in hell I’ll let you leave like that you creep. Did you just check me out? I thought you’re disgusted of me.”

He grabs your arm and pulls you backwards before you’re able to stop him, his eyes gleaming at you.

There you stand, both of you with red faces, just looking at each other like plain idiots while you force yourself to keep your eyes focused on his face.

“You don’t deserve to be this hot”, you reply in a haste.

Why do his lips suddenly look this inviting? You actually never saw him up-close, always kept your save distance to your greatest enemy. Ino is a jerk, nothing but a trash talker, a pain in your ass since you first saw him. But on the other hand, he’s well-toned and strangely handsome with the way a coat of sweat decorates his forehead, his troubled eyes and those lips. Those lips you never payed attention to, those lips who did nothing but talking shit until this day. You can’t help but wonder how they feel pressed against yours, how his abs feel pressed against the palms of your hand. Out of instinct, your head moves forward, closes the gap between both of you step by step. How did you never notice his delicate smell and how hot he looks with that mask?

“Ino”, you breathe his name out like a prayer.

“(y/n)…”

“What’s going on here?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You stumble backwards immediately, heart dropping to the floor. There he stands like a knight in shining armour. None other than Nanami Kento.

“I didn’t know you were still busy, I’ll come ba-“

“This is a misunderstanding”, you desperately try to explain yourself.

And there it is. Even worse than seeing him standing in front of you with his arms crossed after catching you only inches away from your worst enemy.

A smile. A tiny fucking smile forming on Nanami’s lips.

“Is it, (y/n)?”

“I hate you”, Ino mumbles next to you.

“I hate you too.”

Toji Fushiguro

To say that you’re bored is an understatement. You feel like fucking dying with that little brat walking by your side. These last days were like a trip to hell and back.

“Let me say I’ll never babysit some stupid kid again”, you announce into the silence around you, earning a cheeky grin from Gojo.

“Totally agree with that.”

“Oh yeah?”, Riko replies challenging.

Just seconds before a blade pierces trough Gojo next to you with full force.

Just before his blood splatters across your face.

“Satoru”, you hear Geto breathe out far away.

“Get Riko away from here right now”, you instruct him out of instinct.

When you turn around, you get greeted by the hottest green eyes you’ve ever seen. The man who forces his blade straight into Gojo’s chest looks stunning with that maniac smile plastered on his gorgeous face.

“Now that’s a pleasant surprise. Apart from piercing through my friend, of course”, you comment dryly.

It’s clear that he’s older than you. Just one glance into his masculine face tells you that he’s no one to be messed with. Well, separately from the sword he pierced through the honoured one.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt ya, princess. But you and your little friends have something I need to kill”, his low seductive voice hollers back at you.

“(y/n), you shouldn’t stay here, y-“

“I got this Suguru. Get Riko to Tengen-sama as soon as possible”, you interrupt him immediately.

Your heart almost beats out of your chest by only a glimpse at the stranger standing in front of you. Finally, something exciting. Or rather, someone exciting.

“C’mon, we both know I can’t let that happen, princess.”

“Get out of here as well and use your reversed technique, Gojo”, you instruct the white-haired man again.

“I’m the honoured one, remember?”

“Well, I’m a woman”, you hiss through gritted teeth while walking past him.

“Seems like we have to fight, then.”

His smirk is intoxicating while he dashes towards you with neck-breaking speed. Over and over, you escape his blade just by inches while enjoying the wave of dopamine that rushes over you.

“You’re hot”, you jeer at him while dodging another attack.

“Ya know, we don’t have to fight here. Lemme finish this real quick and then we’ll have a talk under four eyes”, he replies with his enormous biceps rushing over your head.

“A talk, I’d rather see you naked.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t force yourself.”

A grin creeps up your face while you attack him with both of your swords, swinging through the air so effortlessly that he can’t help but stare at you. How are you so different from all the women he’s met before? So fearless, so forbidden hot. Maybe not his age, but given the gleam in your eyes mature.

What he’d do to run his fingers through your hair once, to watch your expression twitch underneath his merciless touch. You’d sure feel good pressed against his body with your bare back pressed against the mattress.

“Oh no, seems like I broke your shirt. What a shame”, you purr with your eyes locked onto his now exposed upper body.

Just as you expected, exactly how you imagined a man like him to look like. A body built from heaven itself, his abs so firm that you’re sure they’d feel like cement underneath your touch. What a force of a man.

What a shame he came here to sabotage your mission.

“Would have happened sooner or later anyway”, he replies while pinning you against a nearby tree, desire obviously clouding his dark eyes.

You can’t deny the fact that you are oh so tempted to enjoy this little sensation, a timeout from that shitty mission. Carefully, you allow your hands to discover the valleys his upper body has to offer, to feel his muscles tense underneath your merciless touch. There’s no shame in admitting that this was your favorite first glance of a male for a long time.

“You’re probably my favorite.”

The smirk on his face grows even wider while he traps you between his strong arms. What a shame, you think to yourself. You definitely have to tell Gojo to work out even harder after seeing a guy like him.

“But I can’t afford to play favorites when it comes to men. You’re in my way and if you sabotage my mission, I’m screwed, big guy. Let’s just stay here and let that girl live-“

Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, you fail to breathe when he pushes your body onto the ground with full force.

“Thought you were in control, huh? Too bad for ya, I don’t get distracted by a girl touching my abs. Even though I have to admit you’re a nice one. Now you stay here and let me finish your little friend before killing that vessel, okay?”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror as he simply walks away. Him, with his shirt hanging in shreds down his body, exposing his shamelessly toned back to your watery eyes.

He tricked you with the force of his muscles. And you actually fell for it.

Ijichi Kiyotaka

Your heart is racing in your chest, fingertips trembling by the nauseous wave of stress that washes over you. Again, something you didn’t calculate correctly. Again, some students got stuck underneath a curtain.

Your feet rush you to his room immediately. He’s probably the only one who’s able to fix the mess you’ve caused. After all, this is what he always does. Making sure no one gets hurt, having your back when things get messy.

For you, Ijichi is a blessing walking on earth. And he might be your only saviour right now.

With rapid steps, you dash into the building you know so well, the building he calls his come. Even if blindfolded, you’d always find your way to the man who seems so powerless in a world full of people who are ridiculously strong. Forced into the shadow, always looking out for everyone except himself.

“Ijichi, I need your help, I-“

You dashed into his flat like you always do, expected him sitting on the table while reading a book like he always does when you come around. But today, that doesn’t seem to be the chase. All of the sudden your mouth starts to feel dry, eyes fixated on nothing but his naked upper body.

His naked upper body.  

“(y/n)! I…I didn’t expect you here today!”, he frantically mumbles while fighting for dear life with his white shirt.

“I never expected you to be so trained”, you breathe out, glance getting stuck on his surprisingly toned chest and six-pack.

“Don’t make fun of me, (y/n). I’m just an average guy”, he tries to laugh your words off.

“You look fantastic. Literally, you’re definitely able to keep up with Gojo. Are you training in secret?”, you insist.

“Don’t say something like that too loud, (y/n). If he hears you-“

“It’s nothing but the truth. You look absolutely…stunning.”

“Stunning” isn’t enough of a description for those butterflies violently racing through your stomach. It takes all your strength to stop your eyes from moving downwards again, to burn the picture of his toned abs inside your brain. How are you supposed to ever look into his face when knowing very well what an attractive man he is?

“Do you…mean it?”

His eyes meet yours, search for a spark of sarcasm in your glance. But there is no doubt in the fact that you mean it. Every single word you said about his lousy body, the praises.

A woman like you…Finding him attractive?

“Of course I do”, you mumble.

Oh.

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[piichuu]

♡ DODGING HIS KISSES

FEATURING: baji keisuke, chifuyu matsuno, takashi mitsuya, ken ryuguji, manjiro sano, shinichiro sano

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader

NOTES: this is a very old draft that i’m posting while working on the june drabbles and mikey series <333

BAJI KEISUKE

anyone who saw baji keisuke would most likely not take him as an affectionate guy, it is a side he hides well and only keeps for your eyes to see. he can’t help but enjoy the little things. intertwining his fingers with yours whenever he wants to make sure that you know he’s there, putting an arm over your shoulder and kissing your cheek or just doing something as simple as kissing your lips.

never have you dodged his kisses before, but when you eventually turn your head so his lips misses yours and meet your cheek instead, his eyes widen. he has had a tough day being away from you while you’ve been away at school, so what did he do for you to suddenly not let him kiss you.

“what are you doing?” he stares at you blankly, getting a giggle out of you as his cheeks are suddenly squished together by your hands. “you have chocolate all over your lips, baji.”

he raises an eyebrow and quickly wipes a finger over his lips, just now realizing that the chocolate he ate an hour ago has been stuck to him since then. you’re still looking at him with a smile on your face and without having a second to react, he presses his lips to yours. “that won’t stop me, you should know better.”

CHIFUYU MATSUNO

your boyfriend would never in his life complain about getting to have you in his arms, having his arms wrapped around your waist while your head is resting in the crook of his neck. it is still early morning and none of you have any work or school to attend today, so sleeping in was an obvious choice.

the both of you awake around the same time, tired eyes gazing at one another with lazy smiles on your faces. “good morning, angel,” he mumbles, his voice just as hoarse as it always tends to be in the morning, no matter what time he wakes up.

his fingers thread through your hair while your face is still hidden by his skin. “good morning,” your voice is muffled which causes a raspy chuckle to escape his throat. he places a kiss to your temple before reaching his hand down to cup your cheek and make you look at him. “i hope you slept well, we could go back to sleep if you want.”

chifuyu leans in so his face is closer to yours, but just as his lips are only mere millimeters away from yours, you suddenly turn your head, this action causing his heart to stop. “w-what?” “hm?” you don’t seem to realize what you just did, most likely too tired to understand what he was trying to do. now realizing that it was unintentional is what makes him smile and stroke your cheek. “nothing, wanna go back to sleep?” a nod and those droopy eyes of yours only reassure him more that you wouldn’t purposely dodge his kisses without a reason. “alright, sleep tight baby.”

TAKASHI MITSUYA

there is nothing that takashi mitsuya loves more than to come home to you after a tiring day at work. all he can think about when fixing ripped shirts or making new ones is you, you will always be stuck to his mind no matter what he does.

tonight, the two of you are supposed to go out for dinner together as it will soon be your anniversary and due to your schedules, you won’t be able to do anything special when the date has come. mitsuya will be busy with work while you will have exams to study for, so both of you decided that it was better to have dinner a few days early.

when your boyfriend enters your home to quickly change into fancier clothes, he’s greeted by you who’s already standing in the hallway and waiting for him. you are already dressed up from top to toe, causing takashi mitsuya’s mouth to fall wide open. the two of you often only see each other in pajamas or the usual work clothes, so suddenly seeing you in such fancy clothes does something to his heart. not that he doesn’t always think that you’re the prettiest person alive.

you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a loose hug. “how was work?” you ask as he leans down to press his lips to yours, but right as he’s about to, you put your finger over his lips and smile softly. “lipstick, your lips will get all messed up and i’ll have to redo it,” mitsuya groans into your shoulder. “please? i’ll help you redo it.

he looks at you with pleading eyes as his gaze only continues to glide down towards your red lips. “if you get ready, you might get a kiss,” that’s all he needs to hear before he’s off towards the bedroom to change.

KEN RYUGUJI

the two of you are often together, almost as if you were stuck by the hip. if he’s hanging out with his friends, he will send you texts and tell you that he’ll be home soon. if you are away for school, you will snap a few pictures of what you are doing so he can follow you throughout the day. is this something he would ever admit to his friends though? he’ll no. you are the only one who will ever see this side of him.

so when coming home to you after a tiring day with his friends, all he wants is to hold you close and receive kisses from you. it’s what keeps him motivated throughout the day and stops him from sending you texts about how much he misses you.

ken ryuguji usually hates to show himself being vulnerable, but with you it all becomes different. you make him smile, you make him warm, so when he sees you laying on the couch, curled up under a blanket and watching a movie, draken can’t help but smile.

he walks over to you and kneels on the floor, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, but just as his lips are about to meet yours, you suddenly turn your head, dodging his kiss. he furrows his eyebrows at that, not understanding what caused you to do that just now. “what are you doing?” he asks as you look at him again, smiling softly. “i didn’t brush my teeth this morning, my breath probably stinks.”

hearing that causes draken to chuckle and he shakes his head. “i don’t care if your breath stinks, i want to kiss you,” straight forward, something he has only started to be further into your relationship. he would never admit such a thing a year ago when you’d only been together for a couple of months. but he doesn’t allow you to react as his hand rests on your cheek and he connects his lips with yours. “missed you.”

MANJIRO SANO

there is no way to doge manjiro sano’s kisses. if he has to chase you just to get one single kiss, he will. of course he wouldn’t ever force you to kiss him, but he knows when you’re dodging his kisses just to play with him.

so when you turn your head so his lips meet your cheek instead, his eyes widen and you look at him with a smile playing at your lips right before you sprint away from him and through the living room, towards the bedroom. giggles fill the apartment as mikey chases you around the rooms, causing you to stumble over furniture and almost trip.

it is when you eventually trip on your own feet and land comfortably on the couch that mikey takes his chance and wraps his arms around your waist so you can’t flee. the both of you giggle as he tickles your sides and pulls you close, leaning in to connect his lips with yours, still with smiles on both of your faces.

“you’re getting faster,” he pants, collapsing on top of you as he’s suddenly run out of energy after all that running. you smile softly, running a hand through his blonde hair as he relaxes into your touch, continuing to press a few kisses to your lips. “i love your kisses, will do anything to get them.”

SHINICHIRO SANO

his heart would break into a million pieces if you ever tried to dodge his kisses. his mind will fill with a hundred thoughts at the same time. what did he do wrong? are you mad at him? is he a bad kisser? are you going to break up with him? did he say something that hurt your feelings before he left for work?

the questions are many when you look away from him just as he leans in to kiss you. almost in an instant, his eyes begins to water. he finds it difficult to understand what he did wrong, you were smiling when he walked through the door, weren’t you? he thought you were happy to see him.

shinichiro looks down and doesn’t say a word while taking his jacket off and putting it on a hanger. he puts his shoes by yours and grabs his backpack to carry it into the bedroom. seeing him in such a down mood is what causes you to drop the act, cupping his face and looking right into his eyes. “i’m so sorry, shin. me and my friends wanted to try to dodge our boyfriend’s kisses to see how you would react, i’m so sorry.”

your thumb rubs against his cheek and he visibly relaxes at the explanation, letting out a sigh of relief. “i love your kisses, shin. i’m sorry for making you so sad,” you lean in to press your kiss to his for a short but sweet kiss. shinichiro puts a hand on your waist while the other one is still holding his backpack. “it was a little mean,” he mumbles.

he intertwines his fingers with yours and walks into the bedroom with you following behind. your boyfriend drops the backpack on the floor and puts his arms around your waist, pulling you onto the bed so he can cuddle up to you. “you’ll have to make it up to me with lots of kisses.” “of course, shin. you’ll get all the kisses you want.”

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Eddie falls asleep in the back of the RV. Steve watches it happen in stages, after the stop at The War Zone—driving a little further out for a food shop, away from prying eyes.

He announces that the coast is clear when the roads become reassuringly empty. For the first time in days, he relaxes into the rhythm of driving: he’s triple-checked that no-one’s tailing them, and if it weren’t for the hastily bought weapons, he could almost pretend that…

He glances at the rearview mirror, sensing movement. It’s Eddie, standing up from where he’d been huddled against the back of Steve’s seat. He looks like he’s relishing the freedom to stretch his legs—Steve thinks, with a pang, that he’s probably sick of hiding—and takes his time on his way to the back seat.

Keeps his balance for the most part, only stumbles once, briefly latches onto Robin’s shoulder with a sheepish smile, says something like, “Role reversal, Buckley,” and she laughs.

He settles with the kids in the back. Clearly tries to give them the most space, folding his legs awkwardly in the corner almost like he’s already back to hiding again, but they won’t let him; Dustin wiggles along to create more room, and Erica pins Eddie with a look—the most Steve can make out is, “You look like a…”, but whatever she says makes Eddie snort, then smile with obvious affection.

The next time Steve looks to find Eddie’s reflection, he’s relaxed into his seat, legs stretched out in front, the edge of one sneaker bouncing up and down absent-mindedly—but growing slower and slower.

He’s talking to Lucas, the speech drowned out by the RV engine; Steve can still see how it makes Lucas relax in turn, even giggle, which has been an all too rare occurrence lately. How Max, despite carrying the heaviness of the Walkman, looks on with a spark in her eyes.

If Steve had to guess, he’d say that Eddie doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the motion of the RV or the angle of the sun through the windows. Maybe it’s just that he finally feels safe.

Either way, his blinks get longer and longer, and then he’s drifted off, out completely, and Steve watches with something close to pride as the kids all get off the bench in silent agreement—Max confidently lifting Eddie’s legs and swinging them up onto the cushions like it’s second nature. He barely stirs, head nodding a little until he’s lying down properly.

Steve splits the last of his cash with Nancy on the food. They make a trio with Robin for heading to the store, the kids on what they’ve dubbed ‘Eddie watch’ and what Steve has dubbed, “Yeah, I’ve left it running—that still means no driving unless, like—actually no, I’m not even gonna—yeah, Dustin, I’ll get you more Pringles, Jesus Christ.”

And because he’s weak, he still ends up caving to Max’s loophole that yes, if demodogs and/or bats and/or people that just look at them funny show up, she’s got permission to floor it; he’s not gonna tell her he’d scoped the place out well before he’d parked.

Ten minutes later, laden with bags, Nancy says, “We could use somewhere with more space. For…”

She indicates the supplies of a more grim variety than snacks.

Steve thinks about it, then exhales with a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere.”

Robin eyes him curiously. It’s like she’s heard through the laugh, can somehow feel the thing that wells up in the back of his throat—only for a second; he’s used to pushing it back.

She squeezes his shoulder. He pats the back of her hand before driving away. Sometimes words spill out between them, ever flowing. Sometimes they don’t need words at all.

There’s a strange kind of thrill in feeling the tires go right over the grass. Feels bigger than what it is—like something’s finally been unearthed.

They’re all quiet as the group starts to filter outside. Steve looks over his shoulder: Eddie is still fast asleep. His lips move every so often, drowsy half-formed words.

Steve wonders what he’s dreaming about. He hopes it’s something good.

He lets everyone go in front of him—Robin snatches a bag of food out of Dustin’s hands, whispering fondly, “That one’s mine, you animal.”

Nancy hesitates just outside, then turns back into the RV to sit on the step.

“It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side with meaning. “I don’t think he should wake up alone, you know?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, me too.”

And that’s how they end up sat together, half in the RV and half outside. Nancy dangles her feet above the grass—she could reach it, of course, but it seems deliberate, like she’s enjoying the breeze.

Or trying to, at any rate: there’s still a restlessness to her, an anxious pinch to her face, like she’s one step away from jumping to her feet and—

Steve squeezes her knee—hears the way she exhales, like she’s finally caught her breath.

“Food first,” Steve says gently.

She nods belatedly, like the words take a little while longer to reach her. “Food first.” She rustles through one of the bags, brings out something wrapped in foil. “Robin said this is for you…?”

Steve chuckles. It’s a sesame bagel: bacon, egg, and cheese.

He gives half to Nancy.

They eat in companionable silence—just listening to the breeze and the occasional shout of laughter: Robin’s formed a circle with everyone up ahead, a chaotic game of duck, duck, goose, which is a ridiculous choice because her run is ridiculous, and Steve feels his cheeks ache with a smile at the grass stains already on her shirt, as Dustin and Lucas pull her down in some kind of duck-goose uprising, and Max gets Erica up on her shoulders, joining the fray; and underneath it all, he can hear Eddie hum slightly in his sleep, but it’s not a noise of distress—like he knows subconsciously that he isn’t alone.

“Here,” Nancy says.

When Steve turns to her, she’s got a packet of chips open between them. Salt and vinegar.

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but—

“You remembered,” he says through a rush of affection; it hits him square in the chest.

Nancy smiles. “Can never forget you and Mike fighting for the last packet.”

Steve knocks their knees together. “Yeah, he fought dirty.”

They laugh together, hushed but heartfelt.

There’s a streak of ketchup across Nancy’s face that she hasn’t bothered wiping away. She looks years younger somehow—looks lighter, like the food in her stomach has settled something intangible.

Her smile turns even softer, thoughtful, and warmth settles behind Steve’s eyes.

I’m sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what…

You never deserved to hurt.

“Did you get changed in the dark?” Nancy says, eyes bright with mirth.

It’s so sudden that it startles Steve right out of his thoughts, a welling emotion halted.

“Excuse me, Nancy Wheeler?” he says with a faint grin.

“Steve Harrington,” Nancy returns teasingly. She ruffles a hand through the back of his hair with easy affection, “There. That’s more like it.”

“Am I presentable now?”

“Oh, you’ll do.”

She rests her chin in her hand, just considers him—but it’s a gentle kind of look. Almost like they’re back in English class, and he’s just answered a question without stumbling over his interpretation, and he glances across to her desk, finds her watching him with pride.

“You suited the denim,” she says sincerely. Mimes how he’d shrugged into Eddie’s vest.

Steve feels touched in a way that he can’t fully place, like she’s said something else. Maybe she has.

“Thanks,” he says.

They both look over to the field at a cry of victory. Dustin’s found the stash of 3 Musketeers, holding it aloft like he’s just won a science trophy.

“Hey,” Nancy calls, laughing, “at least one of those is mine!”

Steve can feel her shift, about to stand, and impulsively, he says, “Nance, wait.”

She’s stood already in the split second it took for him to speak, but she turns back.

Steve stands up. Hugs her.

He tries to put all he doesn’t know how to say into it; he does his best, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. Thinks of how he swept her into an embrace next to the school lockers, her surprised shout of laughter, if you can be this for her, she’ll be happy, you’ll be…

And maybe she’s heard some of it, because her hold tightens around him, like she’s saying, you never deserved any of it, either.

She pulls back. Claps his shoulders to make him sit back down, and they both giggle slightly, both vulnerable. Nancy’s eyes are shining at the corners. But Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears.

He feels them, too.

Nancy nods, smiling wide, blinking in quick succession before the moment’s gone.

He nods back.

And then she’s running over to Dustin, and it almost looks like she’s flying, like she’s sixteen years old again, and nothing ever…

Steve has to close his eyes for just a second. Breathes through it.

Minutes pass before he catches a change in Eddie’s breathing—hears him shift and sigh as he stretches.

Steve tilts backwards, just enough to see Eddie slowly drifting awake on the bench.

“Hey,” Steve says as soft as he can, so Eddie can go back to sleep if he wants; so it can just be part of a dream.

For a moment, it looks like that’s exactly what Eddie will do. But then his eyes find Steve’s, and they light up in recognition.

And he smiles. Sits up.

“Shit, did I really…?” The rest of the question’s lost to a yawn, and he stretches again, rubs a hand across his face to wake himself up.

“Yup,” Steve says. There’s one last bag by his feet, which he picks up to put in Eddie’s view. “This has got your name on it, man.”

Eddie sits down next to him. Steve shifts closer as he hands the bag over, feels the gentle press of Eddie against his side, the warmth left over from sleep.

Eddie whistles at the assortment of food. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah, no—like, thank Dustin, not me.”

Dustin had rattled off a list of Eddie’s favourites—“Actual food this time, Dustin, he’s not surviving on just cereal, it’s depressing,”—which Steve had written hastily on the back of his hand.

He knows that Eddie’s seen the evidence of the list on his skin, faded as it is from the dying pen he’d used, because he smiles when he says, “Mm-hmm, I will,” like they’re sharing a secret; and then he looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun with a hand over his eyes, barks a laugh. “Besides, he looks kinda busy, uh… I don’t actually know what he’s doing. Killing Buckley, maybe?”

Robin’s joking yell punctuates Eddie’s words; it looks like she’s somehow recruited Lucas over to her side, because Dustin’s trying to flatten the pair of them; Erica’s got Dustin’s thinking cap on backwards, while Max shouts, “That’s a foul!”; Nancy’s sat crosslegged, eating candy and throwing out words of amused encouragement.

Eddie chuckles so fondly. He eats some of his share, then sighs with contentment. He stands but doesn’t go far at all, drifts over to a patch of ground like he’s drawn to it. Sits down. Runs his hands through the blades of grass and flowers, even the weeds; it makes Steve smile.

He follows.

They sit close to each other almost like they’re still sharing the step, even though there’s more than enough room to…

Eddie keeps watching the roughhousing. His eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks… happy.

He sighs again, leaning back a little, “This is nice. Who’s idea was it to come here?”

“Nancy’s, really,” Steve says.

But he can tell that Eddie notices the evasion—there’s a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrow as he listens. He’s getting almost scarily good at it, Steve thinks, but it’s not done in an intimidating way; it’s not like Eddie wants to catch him out in something. It’s more like he… just wants to know. Like he cares.

“But you knew a spot?” Eddie prompts.

“Yeah, I…”

Steve could still avoid it—could just say carelessly, ‘cause we drove past it, duh, and Eddie would let it drop, he knows he would. But…

“I came here when I was a kid. Like, years ago. It was summer, and I think the car broke down or something? So we had to wait for…” Steve shrugs, but it’s just movement for the sake of it, trying to conceal the way his throat’s tightening in slow increments. “It was… I liked it,” he adds. Nods towards the kids. “I thought they might like it, too.” He tries to laugh, “Guess that’s kinda stupid to—”

“I think it’s sweet,” Eddie interrupts firmly. “This place, it’s…” He smiles at Max’s squeal, Lucas lifting her up in a bridal carry. “It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tries to smile, because it is perfect, but that suddenly makes it hurt all the more. He’s gripped by a fierce, desperate urge to seize the weapons and burn them, to just let everyone fucking rest, to tell them they don’t have to do it anymore, they never have to—

“Steve,” Eddie says, soft, dismayed—sitting up and touching Steve’s hand where it rests in the grass, so delicately, so kind—

Steve swallows; he must not have pushed it all back in time. He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, but he can guess, can feel the telltale burn in his eyes—and wavers on the brink. Almost falls. But he catches himself, only just, and when he’s forced to quickly swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, he reasons that it’s okay. Only Eddie can see.

Still, he should—

“Sorry,” he waves a hand, tries to laugh at himself again, “just ignore me.”

When Eddie smiles, it looks as if he’s only doing it because he’s taking his lead from Steve. His eyes speak for him—like he’s thinking, you’re breaking my heart.

“Ignore you? Shit, man, that’s hard. Have you seen you?”

It’s said with a ridiculous amount of theatrics—so obviously done to lift Steve’s mood. But there’s a note of sincerity that Steve can hear above everything; Eddie isn’t hiding it.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to, either.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.”

He expects Eddie to laugh. And though he does, it’s quieter than he’d expected, and he says, “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He’s looking at the kids as he speaks. “They’ll be okay, you know.” He doesn’t say it like a platitude. He says it like a promise. “Wheeler, Buckley… me. We have them, too.”

And Steve doesn’t know how Eddie could ever accuse himself of cowardice. God, if you could only hear yourself, he thinks.

“I don’t want—I know. I know you do. I just—just wish—”

His voice fails him.

Eddie tilts his hand, palm up. Steve could act like he’d never seen it all. It’d be easy.

He takes Eddie’s hand. Breathes, and tries again.

“I just wish we didn’t have to—”

It’s as far as he can manage.

Eddie squeezes his hand. Murmurs, very gently, like a memory, “And so do all who live to see such times.”

Steve doesn’t need to ask. He can feel the weight of it through the words alone. Focuses on Eddie’s touch, the way his fingertips brush against Steve’s knuckles, over and over.

And then Steve lets go, but not before squeezing Eddie’s hand in return. Twice. He doesn’t know Morse code, but he hopes he’s understood.

He watches the kids play again. Glances over to the side when he feels another touch, Eddie’s shoulder briefly skimming his. This time he can tell it’s accidental; Eddie’s swaying a little where he sits.

“Shit, sorry. It’s the sun, it’s,” he yawns, “it’s making me…”

Steve’s reminded of the boathouse; of Eddie’s sunken face at Skull Rock.

“You’re just exhausted, Eddie,” he says.

He stands, briefly places his hands on Eddie’s forearms, tries to shield him from the worst of the vertigo. He feels Eddie jump beneath his touch, a forcible jolt back from the edge of sleep. Visceral.

Steve’s chest hurts.

“Wait there,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Hey, try to not fall asleep just yet, ‘kay?”

“M’not,” Eddie says, not very convincingly.

When Steve returns with a pillow from the RV, Eddie is lying in the grass, flat on his back. One hand floats in front of his face, fingers curling like he’s playing guitar chords—like he’s doing it to keep himself awake.

“Dude, that can’t be comfortable,” Steve says. He bends down, taps Eddie on the forehead, which makes Eddie blink slowly, looking at him upside down. “Can I…?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says softly. It sounds like I trust you.

Gently, Steve cups the back of Eddie’s head, moves it up ever so slightly and puts the pillow in between him and the ground. Eddie settles onto it with a sigh.

Steve moves away, sits back down; Eddie turns to lie on his side, facing him. His cheek presses into the pillow, one leg bending a little, like this is how he lies in bed; there’s a fragile vulnerability to the sight.

The sun draws attention to the grass in his hair. The slightest trace of freckles underneath his eyes; they’ll come out more in summer, Steve finds himself thinking. He wants to be there to see it.

It was summer when he first thought a boy was pretty. That day the car broke down, but his dad was laughing, making the most of it; he’d walked and walked to buy ice-cream and returned victorious to the field, where Steve was waiting with his mom.

They weren’t the only families there—the spot had been much busier years ago: people using it as a pit stop on road trips, Hawkins locals mixed in with folks from out of town, so it felt like the whole world was to be found here, stretching out before them in the grass.

Steve had seen the boy playing tag—it was over in barely a flash, but he still remembers how he held his breath when their eyes met, without understanding why.

He’s pretty, he’d thought, it was the only word he had for it—an instinct from his mom teaching him words, bouncing him on her hip, oh, Steve, look at the pretty flowers.

He’d known even then it was a thought he couldn’t share—like how a child comes to know that they’re not to touch a hot stove.

He’s pretty.

Steve could tell himself that he doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. But it would be a lie.

Eddie’s tugging idly at the grass, but his hand keeps going slack, twitching with oncoming sleep.

“You know how t’whistle with ‘em?” he asks clumsily.

His eyes are closed. Steve stills his hand, slips a blade of grass out from his loose hold.

“No,” he says, drags it through his teeth like he’ll miraculously make it whistle just by doing that.

Nothing happens, of course; the grass tastes just a little sweet on his tongue. He takes it out from in between his lips and lets it go, to be lost on the wind.

When the taste dissipates, he misses it.

“Yeah, me neither,” Eddie says, amused. His voice is lilting with exhaustion. “My uncle tried to teach me once, but I couldn’t… maybe ‘cause… still had some of my baby teeth… maybe that makes it harder?”

“Maybe,” Steve agrees quietly. He picks some grass out of Eddie’s hair, as lightly as he can. “I’ll ask him for some tips.”

Eddie smiles at that. “He’ll like you,” he says.

He’s half-asleep, Steve reminds himself. He hardly knows what he’s saying.

But he can’t help feeling pleased at the thought.

“Oh, yeah? You think so?”

“Mm-hmm. He likes…” Eddie yawns. “Likes everyone I like. And I… I really like you.”

It’s said so easily. Like it’s simple.

Maybe it could be. Just this once.

Steve feels emotion creeping up his throat, resting heavy on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t push it back; he speaks through it.

“I really like you, too,” he whispers.

Eddie hums sweetly, like he’s heard even when almost all the way to dreaming. “Think there’s a trick to it,” he mumbles, and Steve realises he’s talking about whistling again, lost to a childhood memory.

Stay there, Eddie. Rest.

“A trick?” Steve says in hushed tones.

“Yeah, I… remember he’d… he’d say…”

Eddie falls asleep mid-sentence.

Steve watches him. Angles his shoulder to create shade, shielding him from the sun.

He looks over at the kids: they’re playing tag with Robin now, Nancy joining in—a little quieter, like maybe they’d seen…

If he unfocuses his eyes just slightly, he can almost see his dad coming over the hill with the tubs of ice-cream. His mom smiling, sunburn on her shoulder, and Steve hit with a wave of inexplicable sadness, like he already knew, she’ll never be this happy again.

Eddie sighs in his sleep.

Steve feels a subtle change in the sun on his skin, the afternoon dying.

Stay, he thinks. Mouths it with childish hope, stay, like he’s still the boy who fell asleep right here, in between his parents, wanting the day to stretch on and on—the one who couldn’t outrun the feeling, even then, that he was coming to the end of something.

[steddiecameraroll]

Pt 1

Steve tells Eddie about the bet

“Dude, you’re not going to believe this.” Steve leans against Eddie’s headboard and tries to exude nonchalance.

“Sup?” Eddie plucks his acoustic guitar trying to work on one of his new songs.

“At work yesterday, Rob and I were talking about random shit and you won’t believe it, but for some reason she thinks you have a small dick.”

“What?” Eddie stops moving his fingers to gawk at Steve.

“I know, man.” Steve puts his hands up with a shrug. “I tried to defend you because we’re friends, and that’s a part of the code. I’m not gonna let someone say that about you. But she was weirdly adamant, even bet me. Which, I mean, that’s crazy.”

“She bet you? Wait,” Eddie furrows his brows. “She bets I have a small dick?”

“Yeah, rough. I bet you don’t, though.” Steve takes a sip of his beer to stop from saying anything further.

“Of course I don’t. What does she think small is? Does she think I have a micro or something?” Eddie puts his guitar down and turns to face Steve completely.

“I don’t know.”

“Why would she say that? Does it look small in my pants?” Eddie looks down at his crotch and Steve tries to keep his eyes pointed upwards.

“Y’know I haven’t really looked.”

“Shit,” Eddie stands up and shakes his jeans out. “Does it look small?” He keeps his head down trying to gauge based off the bulge.

“Um, it’s kinda hard to see.”

“What?” Eddie angles his hips trying to let the overhead light shadow over his jeans. “Wait, it’s just cause they’re black jeans. Look.” He says before quickly unbuckling his pants and then shoving them down to his thighs exposing the blue plaid boxers underneath. “See?”

Steve swallows hard when he notices Eddie thrusts his hips forward a little to accentuate the tenting of fabric.

“Mhmm, yep,” Steve says tightly.

“What was the bet?” Eddie leaves his jeans around his thighs and crosses his arms.

“Oh, uh,” Steve shakes his head and averts his eyes. “I’d have to buy her like an entire feast of breakfast foods. Basically enough food to feed a village.”

“Would you get any?”

“Probably not,” Steve nods solemnly. “She’s kinda selfish like that.”

She’s not, at all, and Eddie would know that if he was thinking with anything other than the size of his dick. But Steve’s taking the chance.

“Well y’know what? Screw her. I don’t have a small dick.” He leans forward and grabs his crotch for emphasis.

“Yeah, screw her. I bet you don’t.”

“Yeah, fuck that!” Eddie hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls his boxers down exposing his semi hard dick to Steve’s hungry eyes. “See?” Eddie takes his dick comfortably into his hand and absentmindedly starts tugging on it. “That’s not small.”

“N-no, nope, not at all.” Steve can’t stop himself from biting his bottom lip.

“I bet you have a big dick too, Harrington. Buckley doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s crotch while his hand begins stroking himself slowly.

“It’s not as big as yours, but yeah it’s above average. She’s so wrong. I wouldn’t even know what to do with that thing.” Oh yes he would.

“You wanna touch it?” Eddie lets his now fully erect dick go, and it bobs in the air tauntingly.

“Sure?” Steve shifts on the bed to his knees, sets his beer on the nightstand, and crawls over to the edge in front of Eddie.

“She’s gonna owe you so much fucking food, man.” Eddie grins and Steve sorta forgot what they were talking about. “Go ahead, feel the weight.”

Steve reaches for it, trying to act like this isn’t life changing for him, and when his fingers brush against the soft warm skin of Eddie’s shaft the man suddenly shudders under the touch. A soft huff escapes Eddie’s lips when Steve looks up, mouth open, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s dick. Steve sees something flicker behind Eddie’s eyes that looks a lot like lust.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs before leaning forward, grabbing Steve’s face, and kissing him hard.

Steve melts into the kiss finding it’s everything he imagined.

“You’re gonna fucking tell Buckley, you know for a firsthand fact my dick isn’t small.” Eddie growls then pushes Steve back onto the mattress before crawling over his body and kissing him senseless.

“Yeah I am,” Steve smiles and shifts his hips to get his legs comfortably wrapped around Eddie, pulling him in closer.

Eddie takes a pull off his cigarette before passing it to Steve.

“I still don’t understand why she thinks I have a small dick.”

Steve puts the filter to his lips and ducks away to hide a smile. “No idea.”

“How did that even come up?” Eddie stretches out next to Steve, still naked, with the sheet only covering his lower half.

“We were just talking,” Steve shrugs before passing the cigarette back.

He knows that’s probably not a good enough excuse, so when Eddie puts the cigarette to his mouth Steve leans over and starts kissing along Eddie’s pecs to distract him. Eddie hums and stretches more, dropping his fingers into Steve’s hair and scratching gently.

“But, what were you talking about?”

Steve stops his kissing to lean up on his elbow and look Eddie in the eye. “Ok, don’t get mad, buuuut…” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “She only bet because I made her.”

“What?”

“I kinda wanted to see your dick, and I figured you’d show it to me if I told you Robin thought it was small.” Eddie’s mouth falls open. “But! I did not expect this turn of events. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out hoping to reassure Eddie. “Actually, I’m really happy about this.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Eddie says with a grin.

“What, oh hey, Eddie. Can I see your dick? I kinda can’t stop thinking about it and want to know how accurately close my imagination is. Like that?”

“Yeah, that woulda worked.”

“Jesus,” Steve sighs then collapses onto his back next to Eddie with a smile.

He’s going to be so sore tomorrow but it’s totally worth it.

Robin definitely owes him waffles.

[nonuify]

ᝰ.ᐟ 🎞️ — K.MG ; ! feels

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ smut, fluff, angst] ꩜ | requested.

“ when your best friend isn’t too happy with you going on a date with one of your mutual friend, what will happen? will he reveal some trapped feelings that was kept in for a long time? ”

there you were touching that last touches for your make-up for your so called date, you’ve been aching for so long to date but your idiotic of a best friend won’t get the hint that you had a big chunk of feelings for him, every time you had the courage to tell him n all the tingly feelings he made you feel, your heart crushed why? because he was with a new girl every. single. time.

you were tired of waiting yes, your feelings are still here but you need to make a change & go in the dating game for once, everyone needs a fresh change don’t they?.

you wore a nice tiger print top with a matching skirt it was so simple yet so chic!, finally adding the final touches as your phone rang.

cheol is calling! . . .

“hello?” you spoke up first, “yes hello, y/n!! I’m just telling you I’m outside of your place” he replied so sweetly, you smiled at that then reassuring you’ll be down in a few.

after finally settling down in the nice environment of a classy restaurant nearby you & cheol chatted the night away with dinner then some glasses of wine.

at the admit of laughing your phone buzzed uncontrollably with a ton of messages.

mins 🩰 / where are you

mins 🩰 / are you with a guy?!

mins 🩰 / I fuckin knew you were with cheol

mins 🩰 / tell me where you are.

20 more messages . . .

shocked.. that’s what you were, you’ve never seen being so tense like this, it upset him being with another man specifically cheol.

choosing to ignore him was the best idea, you were visibly upset by that, cheol noticed “are you okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows in worry “ah such a gentleman always looking for my comfort, I’m okay seungcheollie don’t worry” you giggled going back to your previous conversation.

but mingyu didn’t stop texting you, your phone was actually about to blow up by this point.

so you finally put it on do not disturb, trying to actually enjoy the night with seungcheol & not making it all about your now quite annoyed best-friend.

“you know if I’m interrupting something, we could totally, do this another time” he spoke up again softly then giving you a short smile “I insist it’s fine if it’s something important I would tell you” you returned the smile, flying your little mind into a sea of thoughts, “it’s mingyu? isn’t it.” he sighed then chuckled “wha-?” you were surprised by his sudden sentence.

“he’s crazy about you, you know your the only thing he talks about” he continued “I know it’s wrong that I asked you on this date, but I wanted to to give this a shot” he held your hand then “please this is all jokes, if he liked me he would’ve told me instead of fucking around” you scoffed.

“mingyus an idiot, y/n he doesn’t think it through he just does stuff, trust me your the one for him, & by the texts you got I’m totally sure.” he smiled, his cute dimples appearing once again “like I said you don’t have to totally understand my feelings, I just wanted this for fun no worries” “but cheol-“ you tried to speak “he’s waiting for you, go get him y/n-ah trust me” he pulled you out of the restaurant obviously driving you to your place.

“your being way too nice about this you know” you let out an awkward giggle “im tired of seeing my dumb idiot friends making the same mistake again & again, just get to it already”.

the frame of your house starting to show as you rode with seungcheol, the ride was quite but comfortable, you smiled at the fact that seungcheol understood you almost immediately, there was no doubt that seungcheol wasn’t a gentleman & perfect for any girl but… you heart aches for the one & only kim mingyu.

stepping into the warmth of your housing unit, you slouched on your couch.

taking your phone in your hand you stared at the screen, not knowing what to do in this moment.

like a prayer that has been called, suddenly your phone rang.

mins 🩰 is calling ! . . .

you tilted your head for a bit feeling nervous but eventually picked up the phone.

“where are you? why aren’t you answering me!, do you know how worried sick I’ve been!” he went on, on you almost yelling in some kind of way.

“fuck off, kim what do you want?” you scoffed, yes you were gonna confess you’re bottled up feelings but you weren’t gonna make it that easy.

“just answer me, were you with seungcheol?” he got straight to the point.

“yes, why does that concern you” you sneered

“I fuckin knew it!” he sighed in defeat.

“I knew he was gonna do this to rile me up fuck” he continued.

“why do you care, if he asked me or not mingyu im telling you right now!” you suddenly snapped “like you fuckin’ care who I date or not, you’re always fucking some girl every single day” your voice started to crack “I’ve always kept my mouth shut, so why do you get all cranky when I just have one date.” tears threatened or you may say fell down your face.

“I- look.. y/n just please let me explain I’m begging you, I’ll come to yours please give me patience.” his voice softened.

you just cut the call, getting overwhelmed by him or this whole situation.

after long silence the door bell rang.

but you expected it, it was mingyu after all you were always gonna welcome him with open arms.

you just prayed this is going to go well.

opening the door, he hugged you but not just any hug, he gave you a genuine one, a long one you would consider it a physical apology but you were aching for the verbal one not able to hold the pain of him not being yours anymore.

you both sat on the couch, you played with your fingers nervously, as you expected words to come out of him.

not being able to hold it anymore you were gonna say something but he spoke up first.

“look, y/n, I know I’ve done some fucked up things like fucking around, and I can’t justify it in anyway I just didn’t know how to tell you that I liked no loved you, I just thought going around with girls is gonna make it go away, because I know I can’t treat you the best, I mean look at me.” he ruffled through his hair then held your hand.

“but… but seeing you with seungcheol, it did something to me, I couldn’t bear to think about thought about you being with another man, you could say I got jealous, & I know what your thinking that you felt the same & I’m truly sorry y/n, I could do anything to make it up to you, even if it takes for the rest of my life” he sniffed, you looked up at his face & he was crying, it broke something inside of you.

“min, even if i forgave you, the pain of you going out with girls & doing whatever god knows what, it doesn’t go away it’ll be here, why couldn’t you tell me min why?, hell everybody else knows I loved you since we were in high school why couldn’t you reciprocate my feelings & told me, we couldn’t dodged all that pain, but you chose to hurt me” you bit your lip.

“i-i know , I just didn’t think it through i was scared of the responsibilities that came with being with you, i got scared that i could hurt you” “but you did, mingyu.” you cut him.

“I’m so sorry. so sorry y/n if i could go back in time I would’ve fixed what I did wrong trust me, but I wanna try this, I wanna try us but only if you want to, I could go out this door in this second if you don’t want to.” he kissed your hands looking up at you.

“min… I wanna try us too, but what if you hurt me again? I don’t want to lose you anymore I don’t want to drift apart” you sobbed.

“I promise you, y/n I promise I’ll try not to hurt you again, I’ll never do this mistake again, I’m not gonna be the idiot that I was” he kissed your forehead reassuringly.

“just please give me this chance i beg you.”

silence. he was met by silence fear striking through him.

he was about to move away then suddenly…

your lips met his in away you’ve never or he felt before it was radiating with love, passion you’ve both hungered for each other & you were definitely going to treasure this moment.

his hands almost instantly came in contact with your waist pulling you closer to him as your hands went to the nape of his neck, indulging each other.

“min.. please I need you” you spoke up in need of him.

him knowing exactly what you wanted, carried you to the comfort of your bedroom, he layed you on the soft mattress.

he took of all of the fabrics that covered you, displaying your nude beauty infront of him.

he kissed every inch of you admiring you one by one, not neglecting in any part of you.

closing by your aroused core, you looked at his eyes full with love & lust, he smirked.

then kissed your cunt, with tongue he licked through your folds till eventually fucking your hole with his tongue, your thighs trembling simply by the warmth of his tongue.

the series of ohs & ahs that uttered from your mouth felt like a melody to his ear, encouraging to ravage on your sweet cunt, feeling the closeness of your high, your moans got louder, which gave mingyu the hint.

that’s why he stopped.

“minn!” you whined, pouting, “gonna make you cum on my cock first, my darling” he whispered in your ear, then kissed it.

taking off his clothes, his big cock appeared which was absolutely beautiful, in all its glory, you had doubts about it not fitting, but you didn’t care, you wanted him in you asap.

he lined his member to the entrance of your womanhood, inch by inch he slid into you, which made you scream by how pleasuring this was, “fuck fuck fuuck m-min s’big” you bit your lip, closing your eyes enjoying every bit of him.

he fasted up his pace, holding your hands firmly yes so lovingly for support, uttering “I love yous” with skin slapping, moans, groans whatever lewd sounds was filled through the walls.

“min min im gonna im-“ you came.

hot spurs of cum dripped out of you filling the outer of his cock & the inside of your walls.

“god you’re so gorgeous like this.” he groaned out, going all out till his balls hit your cunt, chasing his high he was determined to fill your walls.

a few more thrust till he came moaning out a bunch of curse words, his cum filling you up, but you were on cloud 9 when his hot cum filled you covering & warming your walls.

he pulled out, cuddling you instantly, taking the covers of your bed to warm your naked bodies, hugging each other not wanting to end this moment, you both felt at peace knowing you were finally his & he was finally yours.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! woo toxic best friends to lovers 🫢

[httpknjoon]

a summer fashion choice | jjk

plot | This summer heat got you and your friends to enjoy your day at Blaire's beach house in the ocean. While everyone suits in their swimwear, your friends wonder why Jungkook your secret boyfriend is wearing a high-neck shirt.

words | 2.7k+

genres | fluff, crack,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | they are just getting sloppier and sloppier atp 🥴 anyway, enjoy reading!! let me know ur thoughts 🫶

main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist

“Look at him, all focused on his laptop and work.”

Jenny rested her elbows on the white sand while turning her head to the beach house. Specifically on its porch, where your secret boyfriend types eagerly on his keyboard while answering a call through his Airpod. His eyes were focused on his screen and you swore you could see the gears in his head turning at a rapid pace. You thought he could enjoy this weekend but he got a call after you had breakfast with everyone this morning. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I heard he is working for a possible promotion.”

“Yeah, but we are on vacation right now,” Dara replied while putting on some sunscreen on her arms.

Your two friends shifted their conversation to other things. But your gaze remained on Jungkook. You watch Blaire approach him after his call, softly patting his back. She points out to the ocean while talking to him. Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head. Blaire walked away, also shaking her head with a smile. Even though she wore dark aviator sunglasses that matched her lace cover-up, you felt like she was looking at you. You confirmed it when she sat beside you.

“That guy cannot stop working after we had breakfast. Next time that I’m bringing you all here at the beach house, I am confiscating your gadgets,” she spoke out.

“Geez! Mom, relax.” Jenny exhaled exaggeratedly like a teenager, making you and Dara giggle. “You should check on your other kid though.”

She pulled down her sunglasses and pointed her finger to the other side of the beach. Wooshik, whose body is buried underneath a large amount of sand, has been shooing Bam away, who is licking his face.

“Who the hell spread peanut butter on his face?!” Blaire laughed.

Dara raised her hand, “It was my idea. But we all smeared it on his face.”

You nodded, remembering that you were also the one who called Bam to first smell your friend’s face. The sand was too heavy on his body that Wooshik could not even raise his hand to push Bam away. By the time he was able to get off the sand, his face was already shiny clean with your dog’s drool.

“Hey!”

You all stood up to run when Wooshik threw sand directed at your area. Bam ran behind you and your friends, laughing and playing on the seashore. You don’t know who ran towards the ocean first but you, Blaire, Dara, and Jenny worked all together to splash water against Wooshik. It did not last long as your arms got tired and you asked for a truce.

“Oh, no. Bam, baby, stay there!”

You quickly ran from the salt water when you noticed your dog running in your direction. Thankfully, you met him halfway, just when he was about to take a step into the waters. That was when you decided to sit with him on the sand. You two watched your friends playing in the water. You were smiling until you remembered your boyfriend who was wasting this day with his laptop. That’s when you pick up your sheer white wrap skirt and tie it around your hips. You also attached Bam’s leash to him again, just to make sure he won’t run away from you.

“Let’s go, Bam.”

Barefoot, you strolled on the warm sand on your way. Even though it was close to the afternoon, you still find the heat endurable to enjoy the beach.

“Hey…” you softly smiled at him.

“Hey.” he was typing on his laptop when he responded.

You pulled one of the vacant seats around the small table and sat on it. You noticed a little thick compilation of papers on the table. You wondered if he planned to do his job here today since he had all of these back in his car.

“Babe…” you called him with a careful tone.

He threw a short glance at you before reading something on the paper, “Yes, princess?”

“You know that today is Saturday, right?” you told him while Bam sniffed your resting hand.

“Yes. But I forgot that I was supposed to do this last night and I didn’t because we drove here.” he reasoned. “And I need to pass this–”

“When is the deadline?” you cut him off, knowing that he is just doing this all for a reason.

“It’s…” he paused, looking back at you while biting his inner cheek. He knows that you know why he was doing this. So, he cannot tell lies even if he wants to. “It’s two weeks from now.”

You leaned back in the chair while crossing your arms, “You know what I am going to say, right?”

He nods his head, “But they will announce the promotion soon and if I pass this report earlier than others, I might–”

“You might end up really tired and overworked.” you cut him off again. This time, sounding more serious. “You have a deadline for a reason. Plus, we came here to enjoy this weekend. You still have time to do that when we get back to the city.”

“But I want to pass this report as soon as possible.” he firmly said, undeterred.

“Okay, whatever you say.” You gave up, getting up.

The moment you said that Jungkook instantly felt the shift in the air. Your back is already turned to him as you walk back to the house. His chest tightened and it’s like something is stuck in his throat. Before he can even call your name again to talk, Bam barked next to him. As if he knows his dad did something wrong.

Might as well go read a book or watch something, you thought.

Admittedly, you were annoyed that Jungkook is firm about doing that report here, especially when he said that it’s still due in the next week. Usually, you understand him being this workaholic since he has been aiming for that promotion. But it’s not like you will get to go here again next weekend.

You searched around the room for that book you brought with you. Under the bed, under the sheets, and even your luggage. Surely, you brought it with you. You remembered reading it before Jungkook sneaked into your room last night. While looking on the bed again, you heard a couple of knocks on your door.

Busy, you only said, “It’s unlocked.”

That’s when Jungkook steps into your room. He noticed your scrunched eyebrows when you looked at him after looking under a pillow. His heartbeats fastened as he slowly closed the door behind him. You were busy searching for something and he was about to ask but then your expression changed after looking under the other pillow. Finally, you looked at him, holding the book to your chest.

“Where’s Bam?”

“I left him with Blaire. She took him with her on the sand.” Jungkook took a step closer.

You acted naive, walking to the other side of the room where your luggage was left open. You began cleaning up the mess you made while looking for the book.

“Are you done with your report?” you asked without even looking at him.

“No.”

You didn’t say anything and neither did he. So after zipping up your stuff, you have already decided to leave and read outside. But you wanted to freshen up first. You looked at yourself in front of the mirror, ignoring your boyfriend who sat quietly on the bed but obviously watching you. You meet his eyes through the mirror.

“Then, what are you still doing here, Jungkook?”

No babe? Or even Kook? Jungkook frowned, getting up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Princess…” his tone was pleading. “I’m sorry.”

With how close his warm breath on your ear, it sends shivers all over your body. You wonder how did the temperature get high gradually, almost matching the heat outside. You tried to keep your composure, not breaking any expression on your face while you asked him again.

“For what?”

Gently, Jungkook turns you around to directly face him. His hands were still on your waist and the space between you two was almost nonexistent. You looked straight into his eyes while clenching your jaw.

“I’m sorry that I’m working during the weekends and I pissed you off when you just want me to enjoy this day,” he said, almost a whisper.

At that point, you already lost yourself. Your gaze went from his eyes down to his lips when he began speaking. After you realized what were you doing, you looked at him.

“I’ll accept that apology if you tell me you won’t be doing any work for the rest of our time here.”

He raised his left hand and stood like a true follower, “I promise that I will not do any reports while we’re here.”

Jungkook waited for you to say something but you simply ran your hands through his hair. You softly massage his scalp with your fingertips just like what you usually do when you know he’s tired or when you two shower together. You figured he was enjoying your thing when his eyes closed as his hold on your waist tightened. Your eyebrow raised before tugging on his hair, causing Jungkook to groan.

“Just… enjoy,” you mumbled.

Jungkook nods, slowly opening his eyes, and the first thing he sees is that little smirk on your lips. He smiled while wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You were the first one to lean in and make your lips meet. But as you were about to pull away, Jungkook held you firmer, deepening the kiss. You once again tugged on his hair. He responded with a soft moan. The kiss became more passionate. You two moved in sync, moving closer to the bed, without breaking the kiss. You straddle him. The next thing you know, your lips were tracing kisses on his jawline down to his neck. Lost in the moment, Jungkook tilts his head back. You move your hips slightly, earning another groan from him.

“Everyone’s outside?” you asked in between kisses.

“Mhm…” he hummed “Princess…”

You mindlessly began sucking the skin just below his jawline. He gasped, his hand squeezing your thigh gently.  You did it a couple of times more before you pulled away and were about to reach and untie your top from the back when you noticed the dark bruise forming on his neck.

“Oh, shit,” you murmured.

Jungkook opened his eyes, “Why?”

You look at him with a look of guilt on your face. You were trying not to smile, pursing your lips. He tried to stop you from getting up from him but you pulled him to the mirror.

“What– Fuck.” Jungkook cursed while tracing the hickeys you left on his neck. “That’s a lot, Princess.”

You were trying so hard not to laugh, “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook was about to speak when you heard knocks on your door. Your eyes widened.

“Come out, lovebirds. We’re having barbecues outside for lunch.” Blaire spoke.

You and your boyfriend looked at each other, silently asking each other what to do with the obvious bruises on his neck.

“Tell me, why the fuck is your boyfriend wearing a turtleneck in this burning weather?”

After having lunch, you and your friends went back to the beach to play volleyball. You take turns cooking the remaining barbecues and playing. You and Blaire were sitting on the side when she asked you that question. Her tone was not even asking, just genuinely curious and you understand. Because it is really weird why someone would wear a turtleneck shirt on the beach. Worse, it’s not even the swimwear type. It’s cotton material.

Unfortunately, that’s the only remedy you and Jungkook can think of earlier. You cannot really think of any answer so you were relieved when Dara sat next to you guys. You tapped Blaire, asking her to keep her lips sealed.

“I hate playing with those competitive players,” Dara said, referring to Jenny, Wooshik, and Jungkook.

You and Blaire laughed, offering her a drink instead. Jenny was playing alone against the two guys. Her competitive nature naturally takes on every time the ball is served to her side. You and the others just cheered for her on the side, chanting her name. You all cheered louder when Jenny got another win.

“See? I told you, you can’t move properly with that shirt.” Wooshik grunted at his best friend.

Jungkook fought back, “I am literally the MVP of this team. Four out of five points came from me.”

You laughed at their immatureness whenever they were together. Jenny asked for time out and you gave her a glass of iced tea. The guys followed, getting their barbecue and drink.

“Why are you even wearing that? We’re on a beach.” Dara asked.

Jungkook took a glance at you before replying, “I… I got bad insect bites.”

Wooshik, who quietly caught that, asked, “Where? On your neck?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Oh, I brought a cream for that!” Dara began searching through her beach bag. “Here!”

Jungkook awkwardly accepted the small tube Dara handed him, “Thanks.”

“You should put it now. It relieves the bite almost instantly,” she added.

“Oh, okay. I’ll put it later when I’m back in my room.” he reasoned.

“Why not now?” Wooshik squinted his eyes.

It didn’t help that your other friends also encouraged him to put it now. You remained quiet, gulping your drink until there was nothing left.. Jungkook can tell that you ran out of ideas too.

“Well, okay…”  he sighed. Fuck it.

He removed his shirt and his friends almost had the same reaction as soon as he got his shirt over his head.

“Oh… Oh.”

Dara has her eyes wide open, staring at the insect bites. Her lips were formed into a small o. Jenny was confused, lines forming between her brows as she scanned his neck. Wooshik choked on something and was coughing for a good ten seconds. Blaire was covering her lips, obviously hiding a smile on her face. And the insect herself, you, looked away when you met his eyes.

“What?” Jungkook broke the silence. “It’s bad, I know.”

Jenny cleared her throat, “What… what insect bit you again?”

“I-I don’t know. I just saw them after I finished doing my workloads earlier.” he lied.

“I’m sorry but why does it look like hickeys?” Dara giggled.

“Dara!” Blaire scolded her.

Then, Wooshik joined, asking, “But is it though?”

“It’s not!” Jungkook exclaimed. “I-It’s actually kinda itchy.”

“It looks bad…” you awkwardly commented, just to break off your personal silence.

You feel bad seeing him cornered like this but embarrassed at the same time with your artwork on his neck. Jungkook turned his head to you with his eyes narrowing.

“I know, YN. That’s what I said.”

His tone seems a little annoyed and you totally understand why. Although this isn’t the first time you gave him love bites, you managed to hide it before.

“Then, you should totally put that cream Dara gave you.” you remind him about the said cream in his hand.

“After you put that, let’s go back to playing,” Wooshik told everyone. He then turned to his best friend, “And you keep your shirt off. The hickeys– I mean, those bites are gonna be fine.”

The sun was already setting when your friends decided to go back to the house. You decided to stay for a little longer on the shore to take pictures of Bam. Jungkook got back the house too to get his camera.

“Bam, look at here!” you tried to get Bam’s attention.

You were so focused on taking pictures that you didn’t notice Wooshik returning to look for his slippers.

“Do you want me to take pictures of you and Bam?” he asked.

You turned around, “Oh, it’s fine. Just Bam.”

He nods before turning his back, “Okay, Princess.”

You paused, confused, “What did you call me?”

“Princess?” Wooshik faced you and the first thing you noticed was that stupid smile on his face. “Oh, I thought you like being called that.”

Speechless, you just shook your head. Wooshik chuckled at your answer. A mix of confusion and surprise was painted all over your face.

“Okay, don’t stay out here for too long. You might get insect bites. Just like Jungkook.” he reminded you before running back to the house.

You rolled your eyes, whispering, “He knows.”

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy1985 @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

[sweetfushi]

hi!

could I request jjk characters reaction to learning that yn always sleeps hugging a pillow ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄

thankyou:)

→ SYNOPSIS. their reaction to learning that you always sleep hugging a pillow. → TAGS. satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, choso x reader. → NOTES. stop this is so cuteeee >.< thank you for this it will now be all i think about for the next 24 hours.

SATORU GOJO.

Maybe he shouldn't have let his exhaustion get the better of him and make him groan so loud, Gojo thinks to himself when he spots you sleeping on your shared bed. His eyes practically light up at the sweet sight of you, curled up with your arms hugging around his pillow with your left leg wrapped around it. "Look at that," he grins, "and I thought she couldn't get any cuter," he whispers. As he approaches you, he places his blindfold securely in his bedside table and is careful to not cause the floorboards to creak under his step. "I do want my pillow back though, dove," he whispers, skillfully loosening your grip on his pillow to replace it with his body, almost hissing when you whine in your sleep. He almost tenses when you subconsciously pull him into your arms and bury your face in his chest, your body seeming to relax when he starts to stroke your hair. He ends up falling asleep with his lips pressed to the top of your head.

SUGURU GETO.

“Honey, I’ve been calling you for the past minute–,” Geto pauses upon stepping into the living room and seeing you fast asleep on the couch, your lips parted and drool sliding down the side of your mouth. One thing he did think he would’ve known about you was that you– sleep with a pillow? Like, hugging it as if it was going to grow legs and run away? “Damn it,” your husband curses under his breath, failing to conceal the growing smile on his face as he crouches down in front of you and shakes you gently. You don’t stir easily, but Geto doesn’t mind admiring you for a little longer. A big part of him wishes he was the one you were hugging like that, but there was no way both you and him could fit on your small couch. After a few moments of whispering your name and poking you, he relents with a kiss on your cheek and a warm feeling in his chest.

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

Toji has been leaning against the doorframe for the past two minutes now, drinking in the sight of you wearing his - much too big for you - hoodie and snuggling with a– his pillow. He knew you liked to drown yourself in his scent when he was out, but he didn’t know you had a habit of hugging a pillow as if it was him (was he jealous of a pillow? Don’t ask him that, he won’t admit that he’s jealous of an inanimate object). “Damn right you should be asleep, mama,” he chuckles, glancing at the clock, “these aren’t your hours.” His scar is stretched in a near-permanent grin as he takes out his phone and snaps a picture of him leaning near your drowsy face, his tongue stuck out and throwing up a peace sign. You’d kill him if you saw that, but he’d take any excuse to keep evidence of your adorable habit. “C’mere then,” he whispers with faux-annoyance in his tone, his heart undeniably racing as you recognise his presence and ditch the pillow for his torso.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

“This brat,” Sukuna hisses, taking in your freshly-showered state clinging to his giant pillow. The clothes you’re wearing do little to shield you from the breeze in your bedroom, and while Sukuna enjoys inspecting every curve and dip of your body, he’d rather you not wake up with a runny nose and whiny complaints. He grunts and throws a thick blanket over you, grabs a dry towel and throws it on your hair. “Stupid girl, how you once lived alone is beyond me.” Though he’s not willing to admit it, he finds the small pout on your lips and the little whimpers you let out in your sleep disgustingly adorable, to the point where he starts to question how you’ve made him so infatuated with you and your little habits. But, he’s unable to get into bed with you without significantly denting the mattress, so - with another internal questioning of how he has become so soft - he sits on the floor with his back against the bed and his head hung low as he attempts to reach the same level of peace you portray.

CHOSO.

It’s been three minutes since Choso first saw you curled up, fast asleep with a pillow squished in your embrace, but he’s still wide-eyed and feels his face heat up. Considering you usually sleep hugging him, it’s no surprise that he’s never seen you like this. “Baby?” He whispers, despite knowing you’re asleep. He bites his bottom lip to contain his smile. She looks so cute, he squeals internally, quickly but carefully rushing over to tuck himself in beside you and throw a blanket over you. Choso hesitates for a moment, but caresses your cheek with a love-sick gaze, practically freezing up when your eyes flutter open and take him in. He grins sheepishly. “Hi, baby. Can you hug me now instead?” You smile drowsily and throw yourself on top of him, hearing him gasp softly. He pushes the pillow you were hugging to the side (rather spitefully) before wrapping his big arms around you.

[theyluvkarolina]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐊

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` You took my breath away, So now I can't suck in my stomach around you anymore. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes! (Part of 1K Event!)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Being a single mother after your ex broke things off after your daughter was born was hard, especially with your busy schedule. But with Daniel being there for every step of the way and becoming a father figure for your daughter, you wouldn’t change anything. That was until new fans began to attack you for being wwith him and how he deserves someone who isn’t “ruined”. But Daniel reassures you he wouldn’t be the one to change anything.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Mom!Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ kids, self doubt and insecurity (turns to comfort), small hate from weirdos online, intoxication (nothing bad happends!! just a bit tipsy). (Reader is in late 20’s early 30’s!! No confirmed age)

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ i never wrote for danny before, and i’m trying to improve my other writing skills!

PS. “Touch Tank” is about finding a partner that loves you no matter what you look like and loves you for you 🩷

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

Instagram

y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, redbullracing and others!

y/n_l/nredbull fun never ends in miami! 🌞 congrats to my boys, @ landonorris for winning his first ever f1 race, and my baby girl for winning her first karting race! they grow up so fast 🥹

2,389 comments

username1 STOP IT NOT LITTLE VIVVY AND LANDO GETTING THEIR FIRST WINS BOTH IN MIAMI :((

username2 NOT BECAUSE THE WAY SHE WAS JUMPING UP AND DOWN IN THE RED BULL GARAGE SEEING LANDO WIN 😭🩷

danielricciardo ✔︎ Vivvy is all grown up now 🥲 so happy i got to watch her win her first karting race ❤️

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ are we going to ignore how you tried like a baby when she held her little trophy? → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ video evidence??? 👀 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ sorry max, but i won’t expose the loml like this (i’ll show you it later) → danielricciardo ✔︎ this is still my replies you know 🙄 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ it wasn’t me it was vivvy that wrote that → danielricciardo ✔︎ yes because Vivvy knows that your password on your phone is the year we meet. → username3 daniel being there for Vivvy and y/n since her douche of a ex left her is my roman empire. → username4 no because the way he stepped up and basically said “you’re not gonna the father in her life? fine, i’ll be it then.”

danielricciardo ✔︎ …questioning those last few photos… 🤔

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ why?? they are perfection 😞 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ perfection is a bit of a over statement…

landonorris ✔︎ thanks mum 😋

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ anything for my son ❤️ → username5 isn’t he like two years younger than you?? → landonorris ✔︎ no i was actually birthed from her daniel has proof → danielricciardo ✔︎ don’t drag me into this. → landonorris ✔︎ okay daddy 😏 → danielricciardo ✔︎ i’m reporting to hr i feel like i need a trusted adult → username6 daniel, you are a trusted adult??? bro is 34 😭 → danielricciardo ✔︎ @ y/n_l/nredbull help me i’m being harassed by people other than vivvy and lando

username7 hey!! i’m now to f1, can anyone explain how daniel, y/n, and vivvy came to be??

→ username8 y/n and daniel met when he was still in redbull and she’s (still) a engineer! they became really good friends while daniel was there and liked y/n but she was in a relationship with a asshole that i won’t spare the details of. He cheated on her multiple times and y/n decided to cut the ties with him once Y/N ended up having Genevieve (Vivvy/Viv). Daniel was there for Y/N and Vivvy and basically stepped up as a father figure to Vivvy growing up and they began dating and here we are now!! → username9 stop that is so sweet 😭😭 → username10 idk it just feels like she was using danny to get viv to have a father in her life → username11 okay @ username10 lets just forget that daniel liked y/n for YEARS and let’s just think that y/n has no job for FUCKING REDBULL and was begging daniel to take her and viv in!!

danielricciardo ✔︎

📍 Miami

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n_l/nredbull

danielricciardo not my best race, but happy to have my good luck charms here ❤️ (congrats to laaaaannnndooooo noooooorriiiiissss for his first win)

tagged; y/n_l/nredbull

2,864 comments

username12 daniel avacodo come back is coming guys dw

→ username13 that’s what we said last year 😞

username14 HELLO THE Y/N PHOTO???

username15 MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY?

landonorris ✔︎ my eyes have been blinded by the most unthinkable photo you can show of my adoptive mother.

→ danielricciardo ✔︎ if I can see how fine she is, so does the whole world 🥴

username16 girlie is smart AND fucking hot???

→ username17 milf fr → username18 i love women in stem 😩

username19 damn how did daniel bag such a fine woman

→ username20 fine woman?? homegirl has stretch marks and looks like she hasn’t had sleep in days. she’s lucky daniel posted a good photo of her → username21 he could choose anyone but he choose the woman that only picked him so her kid has a father 🤢 → username22 shaming a MOTHER who BIRTHED A CHILD for how she looks like and saying that she doesn’t lover her partner is the lowest of the lows.

Twitter

iMessages

Miami, also known as the Magic City, is a place where the excitement never stops, and the nightlife is always lively. The city is filled with vibrant clubs where the music never seems to quiet down, and the clinking of glasses creates its own unique rhythm. In honor of the race in Miami and Lando's first win, the entire grid decided to gather at a well-established, extravagant club.

To be completely honest, nightclubs were never your cup of tea. The deafening noise, pulsating music, and perspiring individuals dancing into the early hours of the morning, not to mention the sticky floors from spilled drinks, never really appealed to you. When you were pregnant with Vivvy, being able to use the "I'm pregnant" excuse was a blessing, but now, you find yourself preparing to accompany the other drivers' girlfriends for a so-called "girls' night" at the same club. 

Lately, the comments people have been leaving on your feeds getting on your nerves. About being manipulative to Daniel for only using him for Vivvy to have a father in her life, to get that you are "too old" for him, even receiving comments that you don't deserve to be with him because you weren't "up to the standards of other men in Formula 1" which were repulsive, to say the least, but... now those thoughts began to consume your mind. As you glanced in the mirror, your eyes trailing over each curve of your body, the wrinkles of your face-

"What's all this?" a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see Daniel, wearing a smirk on his face as he leans against the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, trying to hide the scowl you were giving yourself. "The girls managed to convince me to join them for the night. They kept insisting that I need to let loose and have some fun," you explain, adjusting your lip liner.

"Maybe they're right. You sound like a grandma," Daniel teases, and you raise an eyebrow in response. "I'm just saying that maybe it would be good for you. Relax, spend some time with the girls," he adds, offering a supportive perspective.

"What about you? Are you going to go and hang out with Max and the others?" You questioned, turning over to look at him, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. Daniel shook his head.

"Not tonight. " He comments with a slight shake of his head, curls bouncing. "Besides, it's your time to have fun, and who'll look after Vivvy?"

"Danny, you aren't obligated to-"

"I know. But I'm the one that wants to spend time with her." Daniel reassures. You smile at him before turning back to the mirror. A slight frown forms on your lips the more you look at your reflection.

"What's with that frown?" Daniel's smile shifts as he sees you look over each crevasse of yourself as he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Can I ask you something?" You start, placing your hands over his, caressing your thumb over his hand.

"Anything."

"Why me? You... you have anyone you can choose from, Danny. Those models that come knocking at your door at any opportunity, the actresses, the singers, all these beautiful women that have it all and are stunning. And everyone says how perfect they are for you... so, why me?"

"Y/N... look at me," Daniel says, turning you to face him. "I chose you because-"

Before Daniel can respond, the doorbell rings and the bathroom door swings open, Vivvy excitedly rushes into the bathroom, socks sliding on the tile and eventually bumping into Daniel's leg. "Mommy! Aunt Kelly is here, and Miss Alexandra, and Miss Rebecca, are here! They're waiting for you! Oh, and they brought presents!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as Daniel picks her up, securing her in one arm.

"Well, it's rude not to say hello, right? Come on!" Daniel grins at her, using his other to ruffle her head. Vivvy let out a squeal along with a "Danny! Stop it!" leaving her lips with some giggles. You quickly put on some lipgloss before rushing out to meet everyone else.

"Guys, you didn't have to get anything-" You start as Vivvy reaches out for the gift from Rebecca, but she quickly shoots it down.

"Oh please Y/N, it's nothing! Besides, we love Vivvy! It's hard to not get anything for her when she looks at us with those big eyes..." Rebecca explained, beaming from ear to ear as she fixed Vivvy's hair after being messed up by Daniel. You exhaled, Rebecca's bright expression beginning to make your own eyes crinkle.

"Alright, Danny, no sweets before bed, be sure she brushes her teeth, and-"

"Make sure she gets in bed before 8:45. I know, I know. It's nothing new." Daniel replies, rolling his amber eyes in a joking manner. The girls begin saying goodbye, stepping back outside the door, but Daniel grabs your hand making you pause. 

"We'll talk about that question later. Okay?" He says, making you blink. "Now go have fun."

You quickly give Vivvy and Daniel a kiss, the door closing.

"Well, Vivvy, it's just you and me now. Let's get this movie night started."

"Yay!"

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

"Hey, Danny?" Vivvy's voice interrupts Daniel as they both sit on the couch, movie playing in the background.

"Yes, Vivvy?" Daniel turns to look at her, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you love Mommy and me?" Vivvy's innocent question catches Daniel off guard, but the shock in his eyes soon turn to tenderness as he takes a moment to formulate his response.

"Of course, I love you both very much," Daniel replies, his voice filled with sincerity and love. "You and your mommy mean the world to me." Vivvy smiles contentedly, snuggling into her blanket as she listens to Daniel's reassuring words.

“Did i ever tell you on how we met?” He questions, moving her little strands of hair away from her face.

“A lot.” Vivvy mumbles, voice muffled from the soft material she’s clinging to.

“Well, how about I start from the very beginning?”

“Not again…”

iMessages

Real Life

As the night wore on, the club's vibrant atmosphere seemed to seep into your very bones. Despite your initial reluctance, the pulsating music and the infectious energy of the girls pulled you in. Kelly, Alexandra, and Rebecca kept you on the dance floor, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. Drinks were shared, stories exchanged, and for a few hours, you forgot all about the comments and the insecurities that had been weighing you down.

But now, as you stumbled through the front door of your home, the effects of the night were starting to catch up with you. The room swaying slightly, and you had to steady yourself against the wall. The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the television coming from the living room. You made your way toward the sound, the familiar warmth of the home drawing you in.

Daniel was on the couch, a sleeping Vivvy curled up next to him, her little head resting on his lap. He looked up as you entered, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, there you are," he said softly, careful not to wake Vivvy. "Did you have fun?"

You nodded, the room still spinning a bit. "Yeah, I did. But I think I might have had one too many drinks." You giggled, trying to keep your balance as you approached the couch.

Daniel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sounds like a successful girls' night."

You plopped down next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. "It was. But... Danny, can I ask you something?" Your voice unsteady slightly, due to the mix of alcohol and lingering doubt.

"Of course," he replied, turning to face you, his expression becoming serious as he sensed the change in your tone.

You took a deep breath, the question that had been haunting you slipping out before you could stop it. "Do you really love me? Even though I have Vivvy and... I'm not as young or as glamorous as those other women you could be with?"

Daniel's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. And Vivvy... she's not just your daughter, she's our daughter. You two are my family."

"But all those people say—" you started, but Daniel cut you off with a gentle kiss, silencing your doubts.

"Don't listen to them," he whispered against your lips. "They don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much Vivvy means to me. You're the one I chose, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief and happiness. "Thank you, Danny. I needed to hear that."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "Anytime. Now, how about we get you to bed?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. As Daniel helped you up and guided you to the bedroom, you glanced back at the couch where Vivvy was still sound asleep. Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.

"Goodnight, Vivvy," you whispered softly.

Daniel smiled as he tucked you into bed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Goodnight, my love," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to get Vivvy into her own bed.

As you drifted off to sleep, the lingering doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be – in the arms of the man who loved you and the family you had built together.

[firemenenthusiast]

Can you plzz do a farleigh smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??

—“spell”

farleigh start x innocent!reader

summary: farleigh had trouble resisting you since the first time he saw you so he laid his trap to which you walk right in, starting from agreeing to spend the summer at saltburn with him. the fact that you’ve never done anything with yourself boggles his mind, so he decides to lend a helping hand

warnings: boy where do i start. 18+, porn with plot, reader is innocent, naive and kinda stupid (bear with me), fingering, mirror kink, corruption kink, panties kink, posessive kink if you squint, size kink, praise kink, farleigh calls ready baby & princess, blowjob, face fucking, pussy job, panties job (?), cum eating, facial, dry humping, thigh riding, jerking off, p in v, let me know if i miss anything

a/n: we hit another milestone thank you everyone !! this is me showing my love to yall mwah. innocent reader finally out whoohoo. idk who’s charles but thank you anon for this request ! i hope it fits with what you’ve imagined

summer could be too hot at times. sweaty. sticky. but nothing could make you hate summer. you love summer. your favourite season ever. the blossoming flowers and clear skies are one thing, but summer also means that you get to wear the flimsiest, flowiest, thinnest fabrics ever. sometimes almost see through, because of the heat. maybe if you wear thin enough short dresses the heat won’t get to you. what other perfect time one could be wearing the cutest dresses around if not in summer ? atleast that’s your excuse. wonder if there’s any other reasons. i mean, your short skirts and flimsy tops surely dont have anything to do with how nice farleigh is to you, do they ? you’re just so— pure, even naive at times that he doesn’t have the heart to treat you how he does others. delicate fragile little thing like you should only be handled with care

farleigh start is really nice to you, he’d helped you picked up the books you accidentally dropped when he bumped into you. he even offered to help carry them while you walk to class, which had drawn you to him. you’d given him the cutest, most doe-eyed little “thank you” for helping and he could just feel his cock twitch in his pants. it’s not easy to find a decent man around here so when he often showed up to your convenience you believe that he’s just a good person, with nothing but pure intentions. sure, farleigh thinks you’re such a pretty little thing.

that’s why when he first saw you on college fields, licking away at your cherry popsicle that was dripping down your fingers, giggling about something with your friends, he couldn’t get his eyes off you. he couldn’t stop thinking about things— things that he could be doing to you. for every day of summer you would put on the nicest short dresses that you’d saved just for the season. the type of dresses that cling onto your skin if you sweat through the fabric. those dresses that look like they could get one hard tug and would rip easily.

it’s funny how such silly first meeting could lead you to farleigh. the both of you aren’t necessarily friends, he’s more of the nice guy you know and would greet whenever you see him around the faculty. he’d smile and wave at you across the halls. he’d offer you a seat at the cafeteria if he sees you looking around. he helps you with stuff around campus, like returning your books to the library and carrying your stuff. though you do find it weird that you couldn’t find the books he said he’d help return on the shelves anymore. and because he’s so tall, he serves as your guardian, protects you from other boys that try to bother you. he doesn’t ask for anything in return, just a smile from you would suffice, the smile that leaves him smitten. farleigh also knows about the love you have for summer, the way you always mention how great of a time you would have in summer. just casually telling him about that time you wandered into a hayfield and just laid there looking at the sky. or about that time when you were little you had just received a gorgeous little floral dress as a present that you wore everyday because you liked it so much. sometimes you just couldn’t shut your mouth when it comes to summer. you’re sentimental about it, and the fact that he would sit through your stories every time, no wonder how random it can be or how busy he actually is

you jumped when he asked you to spend the summer with him. “really ?? are you serious ?” you beam at him with uncontainable excitement. your toes springing up and down, his eyes follow yours as you jump and squeal, a huge grin plastered across his face. farleigh had told you about his saltburn home. the most perfect, ethereal place to be spending summer at. you love to listen to his stories about what they do at saltburn in summer. basking under the sun at the lakeside, playing tennis, rolling in the hayfield naked— so when he invited you to spend the upcoming summer in saltburn, with him, you couldn’t be more excited. it’s gonna be the best summer ever. “yeah it’ll be fun. besides, elspeth is always thrilled to have a guest. she loves a pretty face like yours” you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you push him away. he smiles at your reaction, sometimes it’s almost too easy for him to get what he wants with you. it’s always been felix who would bring his friends, toys- over so he figured this time he’d do the same. he chuckles at you twirling around in excitement, eyes trailing down to your ass peeking out under the skirt. he could see the bits of your panties if you would just jump higher.

thinking about spending the summer at saltburn, you cant help but imagine how it would be like. you’ve heard people talk about the greatest parties that took place there, and how sex infested it can get. people do all sort of wild things there, the wildest you could imagine. the type of crazy that you could say what happens there, stays there. trailing your eyes along the corners of your ceiling, you let out a heavy sigh. you’ve always had a positive attitude towards sex and well, other sexual stuff. you’d hear crazy stories from your friends, about stuff they did or would do in the bedroom with boys. it’s understandable for people your age to be acting like they don’t have a second to spare from reproducing. their stories intrigue you cuz you’ve never done the things they’d talk about.

they would mention playing with themselves, you struggled to understand at first, thinking what is there to be played with yourself until you learned what it actually means. you’ve never done it though, you’re too scared and it feels so crude to be doing such thing. sounds like a sin. every time you would try to rub your dainty fingers between your folds, you’d retreat though it felt so good. you heard that you’re supposed to be stuffing your fingers inside, and that scared you even more. they’d mention being wet, as in aroused, but you remember the conversation you had with your mom when you were going through puberty. the one you went through at a very early age. she had told you that it is possible, and that if you ever become wet because of someone, it means that they’ve done something bad to you. like they have put a spell on you so you would succumb to the fantasy of pleasure with them. you believe her. she may had just wanted to protect you then but it fucked with your perception towards arousal so bad that when your friends told you stories about it, you’d feel bad for them. you feel bad cuz they’ve been put under a spell yet they seem so happy about it. you wonder if they knew.

it’s not like you’re a virgin. you’ve had sex when you were younger, with a lanky boy who suggested you to do it with him like it’s just another invitation to go hang out. not thinking much, you agreed to him. you didn’t feel any pleasure when it happened. it was just a weird sensation and shitty experience overall. you’ve been pretty avoidant when it comes to sex since. you feel like people talk about it too much yet it’s not that great. you think sex is overrated, so no one has ever touched you in years. boys would try to get close with you, talk nice to you but you see right through them. not farleigh though, he seems genuinely nice. or so you thought. you’ve asked farleigh about sex seeing that he frequents it along the course of you knowing him. he thinks it’s overrated too and he only does it for fun. he’s fucked a number of people you know here and he said none of them makes him want to come back for seconds. when you told him about that experience you had he laughed, “dont sweat it baby, he just sucked at it. probably got too turned on by you he couldn’t last more than 5 seconds” maybe he’s right. alas, farleigh wouldn’t lie to you would he ? no, he’s too nice for that. so when you told him you’ve never done things with yourself and that you haven’t been touched for years it came off as such a shock to him. girls he know not only would play with themselves, they even practically throw themselves at him just to get fucked. knowing that you’re so— reserved, he felt like you just got purer, more precious in his eyes. sometimes he feels like a predator eyeing its prey. the way he would think of ways to corrupt you. but those are just bad silly thoughts at the back of his head. he’s too nice to act on them, right ?

your first day at saltburn could be easily described by the word ‘crazy’. everything is just crazy around here. from the towncar the cattons had sent to fetch you from the train station, the butler and footmen standing still at the huge beautifully carved doors welcoming you, the green carpet spread out as far as your eyes can lay upon, the greek sculptures scattered along the garden trails, to the seemingly nice people that are farleigh’s aunt and uncle. he was right, elspeth called you pretty. like bambi she said. you met venetia, the only other girl around your age living in the enormous estate. she seems happy to be getting a girl company for the summer, showing you around the house and always borrowing you from farleigh. he paid no mind towards the friendship that is forming between you and venetia, as long as you’re having the best time ever. he wants this summer to be able to compete with your previous amazing ones. you’re walking alongside venetia with your knitted beach totebag across the field, towards the lake when felix greets you. he’s just as tall as farleigh, maybe a little shorter by an inch but you can see the genes connecting them both. “heard you’re farleigh’s friend, how’d you know him ?” you smile at his question before giving a quick answer. “he helps me around campus, he’s always so kind to me—“ before you could say anything further, he scoffs in disbelief. “farleigh ? kind ? think you got the wrong bloke there mate” he shakes his head before skipping away towards the yellow hayfields, his hair flopping messily. you look at venetia who’s giggling at you, also shaking her head while raising her shoulders. frowning at her, you couldn’t get to bask in your confusion any longer as she takes your hand and drags you towards the boys.

seeing her strip off, you look around to see the boys already laying comfortably, clothes off. most of them are covered by the tall grass but you can tell that they’re not wearing anything. particularly cuz you spotted the discarded clothes that they were wearing at breakfast not far from you. as you start to lift off the hem of your top, you feels venetia’s hand on your arm. “you dont have to, it’s just a stupid thing we do” you nod at her words, a little relieved yet you feel like you’re gonna miss out from the real saltburn experience if you dont do it like them. so you follow venetia’s actions before settling on the ground, in between the tall grass. she starts giggling at you as you slowly burst into laughter, not noticing the burning glance trailing along the outlines of your body. the grass covering the most of you teasing him, depriving him of the sight he craves the most at the moment. thankfully felix is too caught up in his cig to notice him practically eyefucking you, putting his imagination to work like he’s some prepubescent horny teenager. you felt your saliva caught up in your throat when you noticed his naked body in the grass when you were looking around earlier, and you’ve been trying to shake off the image of his tan broad shoulders, glistening in sweat, beads of it dripping to his defined collarbones since. as he seems busy flipping through the pages of his harry potter book, you hope for his focus to stay on the lore as your eyes continue to scan his beautiful face, his luscious curls bouncing off his forehead. his shoulders propped up against the ground, looking firm and shiny from the sun

weird tingling sensation crawls across your body as you struggle to take your eyes off him, or his body. he looks so flawless in his glory, basking under the sunlight, the sweat clinging onto his skin making him glisten. the tingling you felt turns into heat, seemingly most prominent around your core. the more you try to ignore the heat, the weirder it feels until you notice the forming stickiness in between your folds. fuck. you wanted to panic badly yet you keep your composure around venetia, not wanting to let her know what’s happening. you look at farleigh who’s still laying on his chest, your eyes widen at the fact that it’s happening to you. he’s put a spell on you. he must have, cuz one second you were looking at him and now you’re wet. just like what your mom had told you about. internally panicking, you quickly grab your clothes and try to put them on without having to stand up, to avoid flashing the boys. just as you’re done, you abruptly get up on your kneews before venetia notices. “what’s wrong ?” you look at her, offering a smile to convince her nothing’s going on. “nothing, forgot my sunscreen” she gives you a look of approval before sliding her shades back down. your swift movements and walk back to the house catches farleigh’s attention as his eyes follow your disappearing figure into the distance. he puts his book down as he slowly reach for his clothes before patting felix at the back, to which he pays no attention to. he’s too busy listening into the earphones connected to his walkman with his head settled on his crossed arms. farleigh’s eyes notice your small figure stepping into the foyer before taking the turn leading to your assigned bedroom, the men in suits along the corridor eyeing you as they stand still. hastening his steps, he tries to catch you at the coridor before you got into your room but failed. you’d planned to check yourself out in the bathroom, see what’s actually going on down there, hoping that maybe it’s your period though that’s not for another 3 weeks. pushing your underwear down your thighs, you notice the colourless wet patch at the crotch. trying to make sure, you dip your fingers in between your folds to collect some of the stickiness. holding your fingers up, you feel your breath caught up in your throat. you feel like you could cry, you couldn’t believe farleigh would do this to you. he’s supposed to be nice and kind unlike other boys—

just as you step out of the bathroom your eyebrow quirks at the tall figure standing just infront of the door, his linen yellow polo tshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, his fingers fiddling with each other. “w-what are you doing— you shouldn’t be here” your eyes struggle to find something to settle on, trying hard to avoid his direct gaze. “is something wrong ? why’d you leave ?” his eyes trail to yours, trying to catch them as you make way to the wardrobe, opening the doors to see your clothes that have been neatly arranged by the maids. looking through the compartments and drawers, you’re actually trying to find a fresh clean pair of underwear to replace your soaked ones. seeing you suspiciously try to run and avoid looking at him, you leave him no choice other than to grab your arm. his action makes you turn to face him, he steps closer before crouching so his face levels with yours, his eyes searching into yours. pursing your lips shut, you didn’t want to confront him for what he did just yet but now that he’s standing infront of you- you decide to finally look at him

“i- i cant believe you did this to me farleigh” he cocks his head, taken aback by your words, not having any idea what you may be talking about. before he asks you decide to spare him the pretending. “the spell” you continue in a stern voice. “what the— what spell ?” his voice pitch higher as his eyebrows quirk. you let out a sigh, “i looked at you in the fields, now im- your spell, now im— wet” he looks like he’s still trying to puzzle the pieces together. rolling your eyes “you must’ve casted a spell to get to me, otherwise how am i this- wet ?” you wince at your struggle to explain to him, having to say the word ‘wet’ so much cuz you don’t know how else to make him understand. his face drops in realisation, finally getting to guess what you’re trying to say, yet he’s still weirded out. “so…you think i casted a spell on you that makes you wet..?” you squint your eyes at his slow response, is he pretending to be innocent or what ? “who told you that ?” he asks. “who cares ? i thought you were nice” getting defensive, you’re starting to feel that you’re being ridiculous. you notice his shoulders drop, his stance softening as he throws his head back with a smile on his lips.

“oh poor baby,,” he starts, before stepping back towards the bed, sitting on it.

“—come here” he ushers you, to which you compliantly follow. he grabs your arm to position you so you’re facing him, as he looks up to find your face. you’re now as silent as a baby deer, waiting for him to say something. he begins to chuckle lowly as he shakes his head. “so you think because you’re wet from watching me in the fields, i’ve put a spell on you” he tsks, before continuing with his dark eyes boring into yours “how cute.” his hands start to touch yours, ghosting his fingers along your wrist, trailing up your arms. a shiver travels down your spine at his touch, your eyes search into his, multiple feelings creeping into your head that you struggle to focus on one. one thing you’re sure of is you don’t want him to stop doing whatever he’s doing. suddenly his hands start smoothing over the hem of your skirt, his fingers carefully playing with the waistband against your navel, maintaining eye contact the whole time with an amused look on his face. “maybe i should take a look at the affected area, see it it’s curable hm ?” he suggests, both his index fingers already hooked beneath the waistband. you nod at him, your mom never told you what to do if one gets put on that spell but it makes sense if he needs to be the one to heal you. as he was about to pull your skirt down he changed his mind, he has a better idea that is to just leave your cute frilly little skirt on. slowly bunching up your skirt from the hem, he has his bottom lip between his teeth. you feel heat finding its way on your cheeks as you hear him curse under his breath. “oh- you’re really wet baby” the nickname makes you lightheaded. “all this because of me ?” he says proudly at which you frown at his stupid words. why is he acting like this is an achievement ?

“yes now can you cure me ?” you’re becoming restless the way you can feel yourself getting wetter. that’s not a good sign, it just means it’s getting to you. you’re worried that it might go beyond curable and you’re stuck living with the spell forever. not giving you any response, his hand still holding your bunched up front skirt as his fingers graze the fabric of your panties. he trails his finger at the top, where he can feel his cock pulse seeing the tiny ribbon. your panties had turn a shade darker from its original colour from your wetness clinging onto it. suddenly you feel his thumb press at your crotch, earning a gasp from you. you quickly pull your skirt higher to look at what he’s doing. the thumb that was pressing against your sensitive nub now rubbing at the wettest part of your crotch, pushing and rubbing the fabric in between your folds. he’s making you feel so good you wanted to tell him to keep going. his fingers are now grabbing the fabric together, before pulling it up against your folds making you moan. you look at him with wide eyes, he’s not looking back at you as he’s busier tugging and rubbing the fabric against your pussy, an amused look on his face. he could just see you getting wetter and practically drenching your panties. “fuck,, you have such a pretty cunny” his words making your pussy tingle before you decide to urge him, “help me, farleigh”

he lifts his head, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “i can cure you. but you have to be good for me” you listen to his words carefully before nodding, “i can be good” he smiles as his hands slowly grab at your arms, turning you to face the full body mirror mounted against the wall infront of him before pulling you down to settle on his lap. he rests his chin in the crook of your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the reflection on the mirror. his fingers creep up to your thighs, playing with the hem of your frilly white short skirt. as you try to breathe steadily around him you feel your breath hitch at his fingers’ sudden movement smoothing along your inner thighs. your eyes instantly shoot to his fingers now disappearing under your skirt before getting the clear view of his fingers playing with the side hem of your flimsy panties after his other hand had bunch up your skirt to your waist. you feel his plump lips plant soft kisses on the crook of your neck, his eyes gazing directly into yours. as you feel his lips, you can’t help but look into his eyes in the mirror, not breaking eye contact as he continue his kisses and his fingers grazing very lightly on the wet fabric of your panties. “farleigh-“ you let out a soft moan. “you told me you’ve never touched yourself ?” you shake yout head at his question, head too hazy to give him actual words. “that’s a pity” you dont really get what he meant by that but you dont think you’re missing out much.

he takes your hand in his, guiding it to your core. “here” you crane your neck up to him, looking into his face. he looks down, meeting your gaze. “i’ll show you” you keep silent as you let him pull your thighs even further, placing them over his. you can see yourself sprawled out on his lap in the mirror, showcasing your glistening panties clad cunt. farleigh’s fingers pull the side hem of your crotch, holding them to the side as his other hand bring yours over. “try grazing your fingers over the little nub there” he instructs and watch closely as you do what you’re told. you moan as you feel the pressure against the sensitive part. he continues to guide you through touching yourself the way it would feel so fucking good, that you’re a whiny moaning mess. you feel heat on your cheeks the whole time, embarrassed by the fact that he’s watching you touch yourself. “now try one finger inside” he suggests, your head shot up to look at him. “it’s okay, it’ll feel even better” his large hand grab yours, showing you to your cunthole. you obey him, prodding a finger at the hole, yet you feel nothing but discomfort. “it doesn’t feel good, farleigh” he pushes your hand further, your finger now fully inside. you bite your bottom lip trying to hold onto yourself. “now curl your finger” you take a minute to steady yourself before doing what he told you to. once your finger hit that spongy spot, you let out a high pitched moan at the newly discovered sensation. farleigh smiles at your reflection in the mirror, “there you go” you experiment with the all new experience for you, you try curling your fingers multiple times against the spot as it gives you pleasure each time. farleigh watches you get lost in the sensation in the mirror, fucking yourself on your finger. his eyes darkened as he feels a dark, lust dripping need form inside him.

as you rapidly fuck your finger into your pussy, you feel knotting in your stomach, a weird tingling making you feel like you were gonna pee. “farleigh-“ you call out to him, your free hand grabbing his arm that were resting on your waist. “you’re close baby ?” you knit your eyebrows at his words, unfamiliar with the feeling. “keep going, you’re doing so good” he encourages, his lips kissing against your neck, trailing behind your ear. he sucks the skin at the back of your neck as he feel your breath getting faster and heavier. all the overwhelming pleasure is new to you yet it feels too good for you to stop. “you can cum princess, cum for me” you can feel yourself chasing after something, until it all comes crashing down, the orgasm washing over you as the sweat making your hair stick onto your forehead. he looks at you through the mirror, offering you a smile as he pushes the hair out of your forehead and wiping the sweat from your rose tinted hot cheeks.

“you did such a great job, baby” your breath hitch at the new nickname, yet your head is too clouded to say anything about it. he let you catch your breath in his lap, his hands roaming at your waist. “that should cure you” he says before pulling you up, he gets up himself as he places you carefully on the bed, you sit at the spot he sat in just now. though you feel relieved, you feel like you wanted more, you wanted more of him, more of whatever that was happening, the pleasure clouding your better judgement. “farleigh,,” you call out just as he was about to walk away. “let me do something for you” he turns, his lips pursed to hold himself back from smiling at the fact that you’re about to walk right into his trap. he walks back, standing right in front of you. “yeah ?” he says, as you start reaching up and tugging at his belt. your eyes notice the huge bulge at his crotch. “you’re- hard, boys like it when girls suck them off when they’re hard, right ?” you ask him, he moans at your words. “well yeah, but you don’t have to” you shake your head at him, “i want to” you’re quick to respond as he bites his lower lip to suppress the strings of curses he wants to let out. “you’re the sweetest- fuck,,”

you begin to unbuckle his belt as he watches you carefully. he could cum right this second just by looking at your pretty innocent looking face. “god, you’re so breathtakingly pretty” he compliments, earning a giggle from you. you’re gonna look even prettier with a huge cock stuffed in your mouth, he thinks. his eyes follow your hands, that are now taking out his cock from his briefs, your hands barely covering the size of his length. you take a deep breath before looking up at him through your lashes, batting them at him with your doe eyes. he smiles at you before throwing his head back once your tongue start kitten licking at his tip. his hand automatically reach up to rest at the back of your head as he watches you suckling his raging red wet tip. “am i doing it right ?” you ask him, worried that you might doing it wrong for your first time.

“fuck, right- its your first time” “just- try squeezing your hand around the base while you suck at the tip, fuck-” he suggests, his head getting light from all the blood rushing to his cock. his hand involuntarily pushes your head down, his cock fucking into your mouth. letting out a whimper, he struggles to keep his hips from buckling, his length hot and heavy on your tongue. your plump lips now wrapped around his cock, perfectly fit for you. smothering saliva all over it, your hands squeeze at the base, and the rest of it that you can’t fit in your mouth, his tip already prodding at the back of your throat. “so good baby, you’re doing so good- look so pretty with my big cock stuffed in your face, mhm” he says, sending familiar heat down your cunt, you feel it getting wetter as before. you try hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head back and forth, your lips wrapped nicely around his cock. you hear him let out a low guttural moan. you look up at him through your lashes, he’s throwing his head back from the pleasure, his hips slightly buckling into your mouth making you pull away.

catching your breath, you feel his large hands cupping your cheeks, smoothing over the skin. “you’re a natural, princess” you smile up at him, before trailing your eyes down to look at his length. he’s huge, his tip raging red with precum trickling down his length. you lean in to catch the drop of precum at the underside of his base, earning a curse from him, before he moans. “how are you already so good at this, fuck-“ you cant help but smile at his words before continuing your licking and sucking on his cock. its not long until you notice him twitching, cock jumping as his face contorts in pleasure. his hand reach up to wrap his fingers around him before he starts jerking himself off, his hand moving rapidly with his jaw hanging low, mouth agape. his voice cracks as he’s letting out a loud moan, before you watch him shoot ropes of sticky white mess, landing on your face, most covering your lips and cheeks, some on your collarbone. you’re shocked, a little weirded out by his cum sticking on your face but cant help letting out a giggle while looking up at him. he was catching his breath as he noticed you giggling, before letting out a laugh himself. He reaches up to your face, fingers collecting the cum before prodding them at your lips. You frown at his action, weirded out that he wants you to suck at his cum covered fingers. He nods, encouraging you, “you can taste” he offers, before you decide to give in, trusting him has been giving you bliss until now. You open your mouth as he pushes his fingers past your lips, your tongue lapping at the sticky substance. Humming, you look at him, “‘s sweet”

“well im glad” he chuckles

“you okay?” he asks as you nod before gaining the courage to tell him about the wetness forming again in your panties. “farleigh im- im wet again” he lets out a chuckle, “your cunny’s wet again ?” heat rushing up to your cheeks at his words as you shyly nod, embarrassed. “you do realise that just means you’re turned on right ? nothing to do with me putting a spell on you” he chuckles at the silly concept you believe in. you’re taken aback by his words, realisation hits. the first time was maybe explainable by your mother’s words, but the second time around, now that you’re wet again, he might be right. he sits on the bed before pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs settling on either side of him, straddling him this time. your eyes roam across his face, appreciating his beautiful features, his long lashes, his dark brown eyes, his thick eyebrows, they’re all so pretty to you. you reach your hand up to graze your fingers along his lips, feeling every lines and crooks, slightly pulling at his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him.

he lets out a breath as he leans into the kiss, pressing his lips softly against your plump ones, savouring your flavour. your lips dance against his, pulling him closer to you with his large hands grabbing at your waist. the kiss is soft, and pure in some way, it feels like there’s only the two of you in the world at the moment. your first ever kiss with him. his lips moulds perfectly against yours, making you want to kiss him forever. he’s a good kisser too, effortlessly returning your kiss and offering his own, his tongue swiping across your lips. his hand on your waist start grabbing firmer, moving you back and forth against his thigh and crotch. he lets out a sigh as he pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead against yours as he looks down to see the tent in his pants forming again. he continues to lean into you, kissing you once again while he guides you to hump at his crotch. the material of his pants serving you a little bit of pleasure as you try to chase that orgasm you had discovered from earlier. “you can go faster if you want” he says, offering you his lap to help you get off.

“use me” he continues

you wrap your arms around his neck, your boobs pressed up against his chest to steady yourself. his hands continue to guide your pace by your waist as he plant soft kisses along the crook of your neck and your shoulders. the bulge in his pants rub against your soaked panties before you accidentally angled yourself that you’re humping against your clit. the tingling of pleasure spreading all across your body leaves you a moaning mess, causing him to buckle his hips against your pussy. “you’re doing great princess, does that feel good to you ?” he asks as his hand roam across your back, encouraging you to get yourself off on his lap. you nod at him, too caught up in the pleasure now that you’ve found your sweet spot. “can you use your words for me baby?” you whimper at his request as you arch your back against him. “feels- feels so good far’” you manage to let out before letting out a whine.

“that’s my girl” he smiles.

you continue to work yourself on his lap yet you feel like you need more. grabbing at his polo, his eyes search into yours before trailing down at your hands pulling up the hem. he helps you take of his shirt as you marvel at his toned chest, fingers grazing along his collarbone. your pace on his lap becomes stuttered, interrupted by you trying to undress him. his hands grab your roaming ones, stopping your eager movements. “what do you need ?” not responding to his question, you grab the hem of your top instead, pulling it off of you. farleigh’s breath hitch as he moan at the bouncing tits in his face. he grabs at your waist to get you to look at him, his eyes pleading for your permission. you return his gaze, looking into his eyes for a moment before slowly nodding. he maintains eye contact with you as he slowly poke his tongue out, licking at your nipples, looking at you through his lashes. the warm wet tongue against your sensitive bud makes you moan, as you feel the bulge underneath you twitch. he’s now mouthing at your mould, his tongue spreading saliva all over it, all while looking into your eyes. pulling away, he grabs at both of them “such pretty tits, fuck”. you moan at his words, beginning to rub your clit against his crotch again. “need- need more farleigh” you plead him, before he grabs your waist to lift you up and lay you on the bed. now that you’ve had a taste of him, you can feel your body crave for more. for all of him.

“yeah ? that sweet cunny needs more huh ?” a sudden rush of hear creeps up your cheeks as you raise your hands to cover your face from embarrassment. you feel like you’re all exposed to him, like a platter waiting to be devoured. “you’re so small, i don’t think i can fit-“ he begins, as he leans down to plant soft kisses under your boobs, trailing down to your stomach with his hands roaming across the soft skin. “i’m gonna try something” he slowly takes out his cock that was covered by the crotch of his pants, his belt clacking as he winces at the friction against his length. he rests his cock on your soaked panties, his length heavy and throbbing. you look down to see his size, his tip reaching your lower belly. “such cute panties, shame it’s all ruined now” he smirks at the flimsy fabric of your panties that is now drenched in wetness. tracing his fingers at the cute ribbon at the top, he uses both hand to lift the fabric, stickiness stringing in between it and your pussy. he pushes his cock underneath the fabric before pushing it down with his fingers, creating a tight friction for him. he hisses at the feeling, before looking up at your eyes attentively following each of his movements, curious to see what he’s doing.

“‘m gonna fuck this panties okay ? rub my cock against your little folds. it’ll feel good” he informs, to which you nod. after that pleasure of riding in crotch earlier at his orders, you’re excited to see what this one’s gonna feel like. you wear him let out a moan as he starts moving, his hips fucking into your panties, his wet throbbing tip prodding against your sensitive nub, earning a whine from you. he’s right, it does feel good. and he looks so hot doing so, his face contorting and eyebrows knitted. his mouth agape as he lets out moans while looking at his cock going in and out of your panties, the wetness making the fabric translucent that he can see his cock fucking against your folds through it. he pulls the edge and pushes the hem further down, creating an even better pressure against his cock, pretending he’s fucking into your tight pussy. “fuck,, bet your cunny’s tighter baby” your eyes widen at his dirty words, your hands covering your mouth as you bite the skin on your thumb. not knowing where or how you gained the sudden confidence, “y-you can feel it for yourself” you offer, eyes carefully looking at his face, nervous anticipating for his reaction. his cock twitch underneath your panties before he throws his head back at your words.

“fuck princess,, you can’t say things like that”

“like what” you’re borderline panicking that you might’ve said something weird

“i might not be able to stop once i get a taste of your cunny”

you’re silent at his response, not really understanding what he meant by that. you continue to let him fuck your panties, his tip bulging through the material with each thrust. his length against your folds and his tip prodding at your clit makes you moan in a high pitch, the shivers travelling down your spine making you arch your back. grabbing at his hands, he looks at you while he struggles to halt his movements, his eyes searching into yours. “can you put it inside ?” you shyly asks, wanting to feel what it’s like to have his cock inside you, wondering if it’s gonna be the same as your first time. “what ?” his eyes widen at your request. he wasn’t planning on stuffing you full, you’ve already given him so much than he’d planned. “yeah- wanna, wanna feel your cock inside” he swears he almost busted at your words, his cock now painfully hard. “are you sure ?” he asks innocently. he’s been wanting to fuck you ever since he first saw you, so saying this is just a fucking cover for him. a manipulator he is, and you’re like a bunny foolishly trapped. “yes please” you bat your lashes cutely at him making him smile. making you say you want him inside you is one thing, but making you say please ? he fucking won.

he takes out his throbbing wet cock from your panties, his length bouncing as he settles on his knees, his face now infront of your pussy. he kisses at the fabric clinging onto your folds, moulding against your every crooks perfectly. he reaches the waistband of your panties, his lips kissing at your inner thighs on either sides of his face before pulling the band off your legs. his hands grab at your thighs as he looks at you through his lashes, smiling. he looks at your pussy infront of him, “thank you” he says before leaning in to kiss at your clit softly. you giggle at his actions, saying thank you to your cunt like he’s grateful for the meal. he chuckles against your pussy before getting up to put the weight of his cock on it, your wetness spreading onto his length, covering it with your juices. he moves backwards a bit as he positions his tip at your entrance before pushing his head in. you whine at the feeling, even with only his tip you can feel its bigger than you remember. who are you kidding anyways ? he’s 6’5, of course he’s gonna be huge. you whimper as he continue to push into your pussy, you push through the sting, taking his length like a champ. biting down at the skin of your thumb, he didn’t bottom out before he starts pulling out slightly, and pushing back in again. it’s a tight fit, your walls wrapped perfectly around his length as you hear the squelching sound from all the wetness. you offer him a soft smile shyly making him throw his head back.

“you’re so cute- oh” his words stumble as he feels you clenching down around his cock. “oh fuck” as his slow thrusts become stuttered, you giggle at his reaction before clenching down again. and again. and again- that he’s now crouched down against you, his face settling in the crook of your neck. “you okay ?” you tease him, at which he lets out a strained chuckle. “y- cunny’s so tight baby” you hold onto his shoulders as he starts thrusting again, bottoming up in the process. moans and skin slapping bounce against the walls of the room, the overwhelming pleasure making you forget that you’re in saltburn, having notably the best summer. you let him continue fucking into your pussy, letting out whines and moans ever now and then at him founding and hitting at your sweet spot. it was easy for him to find, every spot is basically so sensitive to you, he could thrust at any spot and you’d cum instantly. which is what’s happening now. your high pitch moans and legs shaking against his tells him that you’re close. “you’re close princess, cum for me” you whine at his words, his fingers reaching down to toy at your clit, helping you chase that orgasm.

the added pleasure makes you moan louder, your eyes searching his for encouragement. he looks into your eyes, his soft brown gaze makes you feel safe before you look down at his fingers rapidly rubbing at your clit. screaming his name, your orgasm finally crashes down on you, your breath heavy as your chest move up and down. “that feel good yeah ?” he asks you, he’s also catching his breath from watching you riding out your orgasm before you feel his thrusts getting faster and sloppier. sounds of skin slapping all so dirty to you as you hear him let out uncontrollable moans before he takes out his cock. his fingers quickly wrap around his length before he starts jerking off rapidly while moaning. his eyebrows knitted and face contorts in pleasure as he lets out a loud moan before you see thick sticky ropes of white land on your stomach, and settling on your pussy. he catches his breath while looking at the mess he made on your body. he looks up at you, offering you a smile before mouthing a ‘sorry’. his hand reaches down to move the strands of hair sticking on your face away, before leaning down to kiss you. you smile at him as he says “you’re mine now you know that right ?” your eyebrows quirk at his words, sure you’d wanna be his but you don’t quite get what he’s saying.

“good girls fuck one cock, you’re stuck with me”

taglist: @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @themoonchildwhofell @fuckshitslover @radioloom @love-me-pls @szapizzapanda @khxna

divider creds: @rookthornesartistry

[luvj4key]

Heyy 𖹭 luv ur writing!

I was wondering if you could possibly do a Ni-ki x Reader (best friends who like eachother tho, not dating) where Ni-ki shows up at readers house at like midnight to bring her over to his place instead. Or something along those lines where reader doesn't wanna be in her own house and Ni-ki helps her thru it ykyk?

Thankuuu :33

a place where i can go - nrk

○ pairing: bsf!ni-ki x gn!reader ○ genre: fluff, a hint of angst ○ word count: 1.3k ○ warnings: reader is overwhelmed with life, ni-ki and reader have a interesting relationship but aren't doing anything to solve it ○ author's note: thank you so much anon for being so patient with me and thank you for requesting ! i hope i did you justice with this request, enjoy reading <33

“i’m on my way” was the last thing riki texted you before leaving you - once again - alone with your thoughts. he’s currently on his way to pick you up and bring you to his place instead because you honestly couldn’t stand being at home right now. you have been bombarded with work and school and life just keeps throwing things at you. you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to escape. and the first thing that came to mind was texting riki. he is the one you always go to with no hesitation. and he’ll always be the one to drop everything he’s doing to make sure you’re okay. 

you packed a bag filled with all your necessities for the night and next morning since you planned on spending the night with riki. this wasn’t anything new. in fact, you spent the night at his place quite often. you can even say that you slept better at his place than yours. you just felt safe and secure in his presence. your phone pinged, “here” riki said. you quickly thumbs up his message and left your house.

“hey,” you greeted him after you got into his car, “i’m so sorry for texting so late, i swear i was gonna go crazy if i stayed in that house for any longer.”

“no it’s okay,” he shook his head and pulled you in for a hug, “you doing okay?” he asked with a concerned look.

“yeah i just…i needed to get out for a bit. to breathe a little, you know?” he gave you a reassuring smile and nodded.

“let’s go home?” he grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb on top of it.

you nodded, “let’s go home.”

as you drove to his place, he never once let go of your hand. every now and then, he would spare you a few glances, smiling at you whenever the two of you made eye contact - making you feel at ease. not a single word had to be said between you.

once arriving at riki’s place, he leaves you in the living room to get settled while he runs to grab some blankets and pillows for the two of you. he returns shortly after and seats himself next to you. the soft glow from the tv illuminated the room, creating a cozy ambiance. in the background, a faint melody from your favorite movie played. it was clear that you were still stuck in your head. riki didn’t fail to notice as you stared down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "do you want to talk about it?" he asked, softly nudging your shoulder .

you shrugged, "there's not really much to talk about, life happens and it gets overwhelming sometimes," you sighed and laid your head against his shoulder, "i just needed to escape for a bit, you know?"

you can hear him chuckle under his breath, "just say you wanted to see me," he teased, "’it’s okay, i won’t judge because you’re down bad for me." 

you scoffed,playfully pushing his face away, "alright enough," it was silent before the two of you started to laugh, "you're the one who jumped at the opportunity to come get me."

riki stopped laughing and said, "well, who else would you go to? i promised that i'd always be there for you, didn’t i?"

"that's true," you murmured, "you're really all i have at this point."

he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped, taking a moment to find the right words, "is that a bad thing?"

"not at all, honestly..." you shook your head, "i wouldn't even trade it for the world. i’m pretty happy with the way things are." you grinned, looking over at him to which you noticed that his eyes were already on you, even glimmering in the darkness. you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes. your heartbeat increased.

he was the first one to break eye contact, "this is quite an interesting relationship you and i have." he said in a teasing tone. he looked over to your lap and grabbed your hand that was currently resting on it. he had this habit of playing with your fingers whenever he was bored. it was something you've always found endearing.

"yeah," you dragged out, "friendship..."

he was right about your relationship being “interesting”. both of you have known for quite some time that you have strong mutual feelings for each other. but what have you done about it? absolutely nothing. you’re still labeled as “just friends”. it kind of just became an unspoken thing between you two. to be fair though, there were reasons behind this. one, you’re not really in a rush to move forward with your relationship plus with how hectic your life is right now, you’re afraid that could take away from the fun of being together. you’re already in a good place with him so you don’t feel so obligated to take the next step so soon. and two, even if things did go well and you finally start dating riki, you're afraid that it might change things between you two. you're scared of the fact that you could potentially lose him. so what do you do to avoid this? keep it all to yourself.

a heavy silence filled the air as none of you had any idea what to say next. mentally cursing at yourself for making things awkward, your eyes looked at anything but riki.

the next few words that left his mouth caused you to bring your attention back towards him, “…do you ever think about if we weren’t just friends?” he hesitantly asked.

“do you?”

“i asked you first.”

letting out a breath, you admit, “i do and it scares me sometimes,” you felt his hand squeeze yours, encouraging you to continue, “because there would be a chance of me losing you whether it’d be because we break up or things just get weird once we actually start dating. i just can’t stand the idea of not having you in my life, riki.”

“hey,” he grabbed your face and gently rubbed his thumbs against your cheeks, “my promise i made to you will never be broken. i’m not going anywhere. and even if things don’t work out between us…i’ll make sure that everything’s going to be okay. you’re important to me too so i’ll do everything in my power to keep you in my life.”

“you promise?” you looked into his eyes.

“i promise,” not wanting to overstep his boundaries, he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead, “i got you.”

you have him and he has you. and that’s all that matters. 

“i know you’re probably not ready to move forward with our relationship and that’s totally okay. i don’t ever want you to think i’m rushing you, but i want you to know that i’ll always wait for you. as long as it takes, y/n.” 

“riki-“ you started but you were interrupted.

“you don’t need to say anything, i don’t want you worrying about anything else. we're here to get your mind off of everything. it’s just something i needed to say.”

the only thing you could do was nod at him. there was so much you wanted to say but for some reason, you weren’t able to verbalize it. but somehow riki understood it all. you didn’t need to say a thing for him to understand. that’s how it’s always been. he knew you too well.

putting everything aside, the two of you spent the rest of the night talking and joking around, all your troubles long forgotten. you felt your eyes get heavier and heavier and shortly after you found yourself fast asleep in riki’s warm and secure embrace.

watching as you slept soundly in his arms, riki knew that he would give you the entire world if he could. friend or lover, he’ll never let you go regardless.

©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost

taglist: @j-jinxee @j4keluver

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 4

A/n: So I’m pivoting a little bit with this series. In the last chapter, I had reader with Rhys a lot and I’m fighting the urge to rewrite it, but from here on out it’s going to be a lot more of the inner circle stuff while Rhys and Feyre are doing their own thing. I didn’t like how much  I relied on the dialogue straight from the book for chapter 3 so hopefully this makes it a little better to write and more interesting to read! 

Strap in because a lot happens in this chapter. Also this is mostly unedited because my brain in soup at this point.

Warnings: Cannon level description of violence, blood, brief mention of trauma (Rhys and Readers history with Tamlin), suggestive thoughts/language (as always let me know if I missed anything)

WC:19k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1][chapter 2][chapter 3]

“I don’t get why I wasn’t invited.” Cassian whined, leaning back in the wide backed chair. I knocked his feet from their place on the coffee table and he stumbled as the legs of the chair touched the ground.

“Because last time you were there you fucked someone’s wife and destroyed their house in your attempt to get away.” 

“In my defense, she didn’t tell me she was married.” He grumbled out, crossing his arms like the petulant child he was. 

“Try telling that to her husband.” I continued to tease him. 

“I did.” 

“Children, children.” Mor chided Cassian and I. A bored wave of her hand causing Cassian to turn his attention to her instead. I smiled widely as the two of them started going back and forth. 

Eventually Rhys and Azriel came to collect Cassian. 

“Sorry, boys night.” My brother said, shooting me a wink when I tried to argue. “Don’t pout at me.”

“They’re just afraid they’d lose their ass if they let us play.” Mor returned, all of the males sputtering out a chorus of protests. 

True to their word, they didn’t let Mor or myself join them. Going as far as to lock the door to Rhys’ study. Their loud shouts could be heard from where Mor and I sat together down the hall. 

Mor was swiping the second layer of a silver and black sparkle nail polish on my hand. 

“Are you nervous about going to summer?” She asked casually. 

“Hardly.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Mor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “Fine. I’m just worried we won’t get the book. We’ve only tested this theory of Feyre’s powers once and that was Rhys’ magic.”

“You think the bond could let her sense it.” I nodded.

“It’s not impossible. Even if she hasn’t accepted it. She could be inherently drawn to things that have ties to him. I just have to hope my brother is right.” I stopped talking to start blowing my nails dry. Shaking them slightly while I did so. Mor turned to her own nails, brushing a blood red polish over them. 

The summer court was just as beautiful as I remember it. I was immediately greeted by the smell of sea salt, even the sunshine smelt different. The humidity in the air laced it with something I could not put my finger on but warmed every part of my body. My skin felt instantly sticky, suddenly very grateful for the flowing white halter dress I had picked for myself that morning. 

Even though it was early in the morning, the city below the palace was already teeming with life. Merchant carrying various baskets full of goods, ships sailing in and out of the docks. The rope bridges swayed slightly in the breeze as people flurried about. 

We had winnowed right in front of the palace. The purple and green sea glass doors opened at our arrival. It had been at least a century since the last time I visited this place, enough time that I was in awe of the scene in front of me. As much as I loved my home Velaris, there was something about the lightness of this palace that called to me. The full walls of sea glass and shells embedded into the floor, covered with some shiny surface that didn’t make it painful to walk on.Light chiffon fabric  in pastel purples, seafoam green, baby pinks, and, buttery yellows adorned the chairs and curtains. The sun that shone through the glass walls tinted with all the colors around us. I was still gawking when Tarquin approached us. The time since he came back had been kind to him. His dark skin more bronzed and his long white hair was  braided and adorned with various shells, he was heart stoppingly handsome.The power of a high lord circled him, but unlike Rhys, it carried a certain warmth to it. An aura of safety and security. I swore the water flowing from the fountains around us bubbled harder at his arrival. 

“Welcome. I see you like the changes I’ve made” He winked at me, eyes still flickering about. 

“I believe you’ve met before, although not since your…promotion.” Tarquin eyed Amren before he gave her a polite bow. Amren bit back a greeting that reminded me of what others saw us as. Cold and calculating. 

“And you two were never formally introduced under the mountain. Feyre, Tarquin.” Tarquin’s face set into a tight line as his eyes swept over the revealing dress Feyre was wearing. Even more see-through with the sunlight in the room. Rhys let out a lewd comment and Feyre returned her own before I  could even think to grimace. 

Another's presence in the room had me looking over Tarquins shoulder. I tried to keep my face even as I spotted Cresseida. The female and I had grown closer than anyone else in the court during my last visit. She shot me a wicked smile before Tarquin introduced her, a claiming hand resting on her shoulder. My eyebrow raised to her and she shrugged her shoulders. A promise of explaining later in her dark brown eyes. Varian was next to be introduced. As captain of Tarquins guard, I did not fault him for the way he sized all of us up, especially Amren. 

Our group followed Tarquin through the hallways of the palace. Rhys and the High Lord making polite small talk. Cressida and I walked in step together. 

The room Tarquin led us to was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace. High ceilings speckled with those same pastel colors, a wide open window showcasing the vibrant water of the sea, so rich in color it appeared almost teal. Feyre gravitated towards the window, like her feet were working on their own. The Summer High Lord approached her side and I tried to keep up with their hushed conversation. Rhys took a seat at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for me to do the same. Rolling my eyes as the others approached, I grabbed Cressida’s arm and led her to a set of couches a bit away from the others. “We’ll leave all the important talk to the high lords and generals.” I said, sinking into that vapid facade I carried when I wasn’t expected to be Rhys’ terrifying counterpart. He gave me a bored look of dismissal. 

“You must tell me everything.” I nearly squealed at Cressida, loud enough for the others to hear. 

“There isn’t much to tell, Tarquin is adjusting to being High Lord quite well. However, suddenly it was…He’s a good change from before.” So not interested in her advances then. Her eyes flickered over to the table where the rest sat. 

“Are you not in contact with Tamlin then, Feyre?” The question was laced with challenge and accusations. The idea that she was in not one but two high lords beds a grave insult. 

“My relationship with the High Lord of spring is none of your concern.” She bit back, the perfect edge of regal and warning in her voice. 

“Good, I’d hate to have to return you to your master.” Even from across the room I saw Amren go deathly still. I gave Cressida a small tap on her shoulder, a playful move that warned her to hold her tongue. She gave me a withering glare as Tarquin reprimanded her for her words. 

She turned back to me, mouth opening to continue our conversation as Rhys spoke. If I hear word that she or anyone else sends news of our being here to Tamlin, your lives will be forfeit. I heard the tone of promise. The air growing deathly still as his words registered to the High Lord.I took a deep sip of my wine as feyre whispered out something that had Tarquin laughing. The room seemed to take a collective sigh at the sound. Tarquin was a good change indeed. Cressida sank back into her chair as she looked me over. 

“You look well.” She said once the conversation in the room resumed. I nodded, setting down my glass on the table beside me.

“Fresh air will do that to a person.” My not so subtle reminder to her that she had not been under the mountain. She gave a small hum. “It seems the court has recovered nicely.”  

It was her turn to grow tense. “It was not without hard work, as I’m sure you can relate to. Having a sudden change in high lord and losing half our population has not made it easy to rebuild, but we’ve managed this far.” She sighed, looking at Tarquin who was now laughing with Rhys. “He has made things easier. Gave my brother and I much more control over the efforts than the previous High lord would have.” I took in her words, the tension in her shoulders and heard the tone of someone who had sacrificed a great deal for her court. Something I very much understood. I felt shame rise in my throat at my earlier comments. She might not have been under the mountain but she, and many others in Prythian, had suffered just as much because of it. I’d imagine it would be impossible to find someone who was not affected. 

“Enough about me though, tell me how’ve you been?” Her tone switched back to one of light gossip. I took a deep sip of my wine as I gave her a half-true recounting of the last few months. 

Cressida walked me back to my room, pointing out things around the palace while doing so. Explaining the bits of work that were still in planning. She gestured to my room and said her goodbyes, promising to find me at the party tonight. 

I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind me. I had forgotten how exhausting court politics was. How heavy the role Rhys and I played was. Instead of lingering on that, I quickly changed into my clothes for tonight. A flowy dress that mimicked the fashion of the court but with Night Court colors. Silvers and midnight blues, silver chains fastening the dress around my neck. I left the tiara I would pin in my hair on the edge of my bed as I walked out onto the balcony attached to my room. I stared out at the crashing waves, sitting in the sound that they brought with them. The tide was coming in stronger now that it was mid-afternoon. On the horizon I saw the colorful sails of merchant and travel ships bobbing on the water. I leaned against the railing, letting myself become almost hypnotized by the motion of the water around me. I don’t know how long I stayed staring out at the water but Rhys knocking at my door told me it had been at least a few hours. Rhys walked up to my side, leaning against the railing. 

“It's definitely a nice view.” He says, snapping me out of my trance. I only nod. 

“I wish we didn't have to do this.” 

“Which part?”

“I don’t know all of it. The sneaking and the games. I just wish it could change.” I said, voice barely above a whisper. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. 

“It will be. Once this war is over. That’s what we're fighting for.” He gave a little squeeze before I sighed heavily. 

“I hope that’s how the others see it.” He nodded and I pulled away from his side. Walking back into the room. I picked up my tiara and slid it into my hair. I adjusted my makeup in the mirror on the vanity.  Looking at Rhys I gave a dramatic twirl. 

“How do I look?” He rolled his eyes at the question.

“Every bit the Night Court princess. Now will you please hurry up, we’re already late enough.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked out of the room. 

The ship was beautiful. It could fit double the amount of Fae than it was currently holding. Feyre, Rhys and Amren stayed close together while I mingled amongst those who would actually talk to me. Cressida found me at some point in the night, pushing a glass of wine into my hand. I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between her and Mor. Making me wonder just what sat behind her own mask. We got along fine but years of not speaking had made our friendship dissolve. Rhys made his way over to Cressida and I, giving Feyre space to talk to Tarquin. He tried to play the aloof High Lord but I saw the way his eyes kept floating over to Feyre, the way his shoulders stiffened at every smile Tarquin gave her. Cressida must have sensed the tension too because she leaned across the table to reach for my brother's hand, purposefully leaning over to expose her cleavage to him. I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt to get his attention. 

He gave her a sleepy smile and pointed to the seat next to him. She gave Feyre a lingering glance before she stood up and all but climbed into his lap. I didn’t hold back my eyeroll this time. She shot me a wide grin. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked in a coy voice. 

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. But you should be asking him.” She pouted at my brother who nodded his head, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I downed the rest of my wine before standing up to get more. I had no interest in seeing him lean down to whisper in his ear. I noticed Feyre spared a glance our way, quickly looking back to Tarquin when she spotted Cressida’s new seat. Before I knew it, Feyre was on her feet. Walking away to a less crowded spot on the ship, leaving a very confused looking Tarquin behind her. Taking the opportunity, I joined him at the table. 

“I hope I didn’t upset her.” He joked when I sat down beside him.

“She can be a little…touchy where my brother is concerned. Pay no mind.” I waved my hand to punctuate my words. Tarquin just took a deep sip of his wine. 

We made light conversation, asking each other about our courts and each only giving as much information as was polite. My eyes tracked Rhys movements as Cressida pulled him from his seat and across the deck of the ship. A deep laugh came from the High Lord’s chest. 

“You’re not interested then?” I pointed my hand at the retreating couple, still holding my wine glass,  Another laugh from Tarquin.

“Mother no, did no one tell you she’s my cousin.” 

“Oh…” He gave me a smirk. 

“And besides,  princess. I am still young and rebuilding my court. All of that,” he waved towards the direction Cressida had pulled my brother, “can wait until after. That doesn’t mean that anyone in my court isn’t free fuck whoever they decide.” I almost shot wine from my nose at how hard I laughed, choosing an inopportune time to take a deep sip from my cup. I sputtered out an  “I’m sorry.” between coughs. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my mouth. “I truly wasn’t not expecting you to say that. Please don’t think I was laughing at you.” 

“Never.” His voice suddenly became more serious than before. 

“Now what about you? No one has caught your eye?”

“I dare you to try with a brother like mine.” It felt wrong to so crassly talk about Rhys. LIke he was the one stopping me from what I wanted. 

“But there’s someone?” He pried. I shook my head. 

“No one that would see me that way.” It wasn’t a lie by any means. He didn’t have to know exactly why. 

“Do they happen to be blind?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “That would be the only reason I think of for someone not seeing you that way.” I didn’t fake the blush that rose on my cheeks. 

“You flatter me. But no, just… I don’t know.” I said in a tone almost boarding on a whine. He laughed again, a sound I realized I liked. We sat and talked until the sun colored the water a deep purple. I looked out at the view, once again falling into a trance as I stared out at the waves. 

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Tarquin asked, pulling my eyes back to him. I wanted to say no. But the role I played required I saw yes. So I nodded, letting him guide me by my hand back around the palace. I was nervous as we approached my door, not knowing fully what he expected out of me. Especially not knowing exactly where Cressida had pulled Rhys to. I felt panic starting to rise in my throat until he cleared his throat. 

We were outside my door and the panic I felt must have been written across my face. 

“Don’t look so disappointed. But I was not walking you back for that.” I felt my shoulders relax and a blush settle on the tips of my ears. 

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t be. I like my partners more than willing.Enthusiastic if you will.” I laughed, which made him laugh in return.

“Good night.” I whispered to him

“Good night.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned and walked off down the hallway. 

I had nothing to do until Feyre went to look for the book. And I truly had no desire to sit and gossip with Cressida after the heated looks she had been giving my brother. So I simply stayed in my room, listening to the sounds of the ocean. I tried to think of how much the rest of my family would love it here. How much they had loved it here. I lightly chuckled to myself as I remember Cassian's face as Mor winnowed him out of the court last time we had visited. It took days of debate and many apologies before the previous High Lord rescinded the blood ruby he threatened to send after Cassian.  Mor looked absolutely gorgeous with some sun on her skin, although Azriel held onto it longer much to her chagrin. I curled my knees up to my chest at the thought of Azriel. It felt almost selfish for how little I had thought about him since I’d been here. Regardless of the fact that I had no reason to feel bad, a small twinge of shame pushed its way through me. A hand rising to the center of my chest to massage the discomfort away. 

Rhys didn't come to collect me until dinner. He was curt as he announced that the rest were waiting for me, not waiting for my reply before he was leaving the room again. I rushed after to catch up with him. Feyre must have done her job well if my brother was wound this tight. 

“Anything on your mind, brother?” I asked in a sweet voice, purposefully teasing him.

“Don’t you start with me too.” So Feyre must have already talked to him. Good. Maybe he’ll finally use this to tell the poor girl. “Stop trying to meddle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I just want to get this damned book and go back home.”

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Rhys.” I patted him on the back and nearly started running down the hall, suddenly very hungry. 

The days passed by slowly. As Rhys’ advisor, I was now expected to attend the various meetings Rhys had with the summer courts own advisors. I wished we could have left Amren out of these meetings, but as his second, she attended every one of them. Her presence set the others on edge, making any and all discussions freeze at random moments because she so much as shifted her body weight. 

It wasn’t until dinner the night after that Feyre almost gave herself away. One too many questions asked about the little temple in the middle of the tide. Tarquin brushed off her questions with ease but I saw the way his eyes lingered on her longer than normal, like he was sizing her up for the first time. If I blinked I would have missed it, that slight fog in his eyes. A fog that only appeared for a moment before sea green eyes were revealed once again. I shot my eyes to Rhys who shook his head. Not him then. Meaning Feyre must have been able to do that. I was both very impressed and oh so horrified. 

“I can carry you both and then keep watch” Rhys layed out the plan. Amren looked over to me. 

“And her?”

“Someone has to keep the High Lord distracted.” I grinned at her

“What a hard job to do.” She bit back at me, baring her teeth at me. I fought back the urge to do the same. 

“It’s a necessary job. Unless you want to risk Tarquin sniffing us out.” She didn’t have a response for him. “Good. Do you think you can do it?” He turned to face me and I nodded. From there we planned the rest of the details. 

The day dragged by. Tarquin, by Feyre’s suggestion, had taken her to the mainland to show her the rest of the court. That left Amren, Rhys and myself free to make some final conversation with the court advisors. Simple things like trade and training of soldiers felt wrong to discuss with a greater war on the horizon, felt too mundane. 

Evening came around eventually. Tarquin all but deposited Feyre into Rhys’ outstretched arms. He gave her a salacious smile that I wasn’t sure was entirely fake. But gave the right impression of just exactly why I was so eager to leave the palace. 

Tarquin and I walked through the city where he took me to a small bistro. The staff all smiled at him as we approached the open air restaurant. It was quaint, reminding me of something you would find in Velaris. The casual exchange between the owner and Tarquin felt very familiar. I smiled at the couple as they personally sat Tarquin and I. The restaurant had no menu, instead the meal was based on whatever the ships brought in that day and the catch of the day seemed to be crab. They brought out steaming plates and I could only stare at it. 

“I must admit, I’ve never tried crab before.” I picked up one of the legs in front of me, taking note of the hard shell. Tarquin smiled at me. 

“Apologies, I didn’t consider that.” He gestured for the piece I was holding and I handed it over to him. “You have to crack this open” A simple twist of his hands and the shell popped loudly. “And then you can pull out the meat.” Picking up a tiny fork, he pulled the entirety of the meat out in a clean piece. I gave him a small clap. He laughed and handed me another piece. 

“You try.” I earned my own clap from him as I copied his motions. It took me a few tries to scoop everything out but I got there in the end. 

“I’lll just have to practice more.” I winked at him and he gave me a soft smile. 

“If it gives you an excuse to come back here, be my guest.” I let the comment float between us. We ate until he had to wave off the shop owners. A small argument between the three of them as they tried to insist he didn’t need to pay. Tarquin dropped a bag of gold on the table when their backs were turned and all but pushed me out of the restaurant before they could notice. The action was so unlike any other high lord I had seen that I couldn’t help the giggle that left me. 

He had grabbed my hand in his sometime during our walk back through the city. Not paying attention to the way I led him to the stretch of beach on the other side of the palace, on the opposite side of where Feyre and Amren were currently trying to grab the book from. The only sound between us was the crashing waves. 

“Sunlight looks good on you.” Tarquin winked at me as we walked down the beach. Breaking the comfortable silence.  The red that tinted my cheeks had nothing to do with the fleeting sunlight. 

“I’m afraid I might become the same color of that crab if I stayed too long,” I joked back.

“You’d adjust… If you ever wanted to, that is.” His tone was light but I could sense the truth behind those words. 

“You’d do well to remember not to be fooled by a pretty face.” I returned with that same tone. He shook his head. 

“I was under the mountain too. Everyone heard the way you would stand up to her. The way you suffered so others wouldn’t.” His words startled me. I never acted that way to get attention. I told him as much. “And that’s why I know you’re more than a pretty face. You did all of it without thinking. Regardless of what you might show others, I know you and your brother are good people. The people that refuse to see that are fools” 

I didn’t respond. Unable to find the right words. I kept walking, slower than before. The sound of waves crashed over my ears. The white noise comforting. Tarquin was not a bad looking male by a long shot. Even under the mountain he was gorgeous. But even thinking of it, however fleetingly, felt wrong. Some deep part in my chest hurt as I thought of how easy it would be to fall in love with him. My hand drifted subconsciously to rub that sharp sting away. 

“You’re kind too. I see it in the way you interact with your people. Very few high lords care about lesser fae, let alone enough to remember their names.” It was his turn to blush, the skin on his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. 

“I want to be better than those before me. I see no reason to make my people suffer because they weren't lucky enough to be high born.”

“I wouldn’t call it lucky.” I muttered mostly to myself. 

“Neither would I. But to them, to the people that only get to watch…”

“It all does seem rather glamorous. Just another mask to put on.” I bit my tongue, cursing myself for saying too much. To my surprise, Tarquin only nodded along. 

“Better to let them think it’s all parties and banquets. It means we’re doing our jobs well enough.” Once again, silence blanketed itself over us. Both of us were aware that our conversation had drifted to something too real. As I looked out at the ocean and saw the tide starting to swell again, I felt disgust ebb through me. I hoped Feyre had made it out by now. That she had gotten the book. We would be leaving tomorrow regardless. Tarquin must have noticed the look on my face, the pensive far-off look. 

“Are you sad to be leaving?” Luckily he had misread my emotions. I nodded, not entirely lying to him.

“Your home is beautiful and it’s nice to be given a break from Hewn city. Sometimes when I wake it, it’s hard not to think I’m still…with her.” He grabbed my hand in his as I spoke. As I looked into his sea green eyes, I had never felt more disgusted with myself. He was kind and trusting and so naive. It felt too easy. Any other high lord, one that had been around longer, would have never let my brother or Feyre out of their sight. Pretty face or not. But the High Lord in front of me didn’t hold an ounce of suspicion for my court. Had told Feyre that much during their trip earlier in the week. It made my stomach twist. 

“She left our mark on all of us, it’s our job to make sure someone like her can never have that chance again.” My throat felt tight and I couldn't speak. He was a good male without a doubt. I only hoped he would forgive us for what we had to do, and would be willing to hear us out after all is said and done.  

AS if the mother herself sensed my words, an alarm rang from within the castle. Tarquin jumped, pulling his hand from mine as a  figure appeared next to us. I hoped the sigh of relief wasn’t too loud as I saw Rhys. It’s done. We need to go now. Tarquin’s head was whipping back and forth between his palace and my brother. I knew I would never be able to forget the look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the pieces clicked into place. 

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step towards him as Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist and the moonlit water of the summer court disappeared around me. 

My knees gave out as soon as I felt the ground return underneath me. Azriel was at my side instantly, hands quick to wipe the silent tears off of my face. I pushed myself away from him. So disgusted with myself I could hardly breathe. My brother paid no attention to me, instead turning his focus to Feyre. I let out a mix between a sob and a laugh as I saw her pull out the book. Azriel just pulled me back against his chest. And my treacherous body relaxed in his hold. That familiar smell of nighttime and pine and something so Azriel that I couldn’t help but calm down. I clung to him tighter as Feyre struggled to open the book. Scared that this had all been for nothing. Then the sick voice echoed through the room. A language I couldn’t quite make out but chilled me to my very core. Like the book had been made of nightmares themselves. Even Azriel tensed beside me, wings flaring before I felt them wrap around me. The voice burrowed into my brain sending a fresh wave of tears down my face. Then, just as sudden as it had started it stopped. Feyre held the now opened box in her lap, refusing to look into it. 

Amren finally looked and pulled away, swearing. She looked…scared. It was a look so out of place on her face that I almost couldn’t clock it. But as she looked back at the book I recognized the pure terror flickering behind those quick silver eyes and I wondered out loud what exactly we had gotten ourselves into. 

I didn’t stay to discuss the events at the summer court with the rest of my family. As it was, Azriel had to all but carry me to my room. Maybe I was being dramatic but the last few days mixed with that look from Tarquin had worn heavily on me. Waves of guilt kept roaring through me. Enough so that I simply let Azriel place me onto my bed, feeling too disgusted with myself to be in his presence any longer. He only pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he pulled the curtains shut and left my room. 

Azriel didn’t return until later the next day. When I finally was able to look him in the eyes I saw nothing but concern in those hazel eyes. Concern I didn’t deserve or want. 

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. I shook my head, a small sniffle the only sound I made. Willing the tears away. I didn’t even deserve to be crying for myself. He sighed heavily and pulled me into his lap. I was so upset that I didn’t even consider the intimate hold. I just curled up tighter into myself and let him rock me back and forth. 

“I’m a horrible person.” I sobbed into his chest, unable to hold back the tears. 

“Rhys told me everything. You’re not. They don’t know it yet but this could save us all.” I didn’t let his words comfort me. 

“He’s so kind. It sickens me to think that I might be the reason he stops being kind.” My voice broke. The admission was unbearable. 

“He’ll deal with it.” I sniffled one more time before I started to calm down. 

Tarquin did in fact deal with it. In the form of four blood red rubies delivered to Hewn City that morning. I swore when Rhys placed it on my bed. “Azriel’s already sweeping the border, so if you decided to have a melt down on me again, you’ll be waiting for a while for someone to comfort you.” Half a tease and half a plea for me to keep it together. I tossed the ruby to the floor, letting it roll under my bed. 

“You really know how to comfort a female, Rhys. It’s a miracle we aren’t having to peel Feyre off of you, truly.” I spit at him. 

“Be angry at me all you want, but get your shit together. You’ve, we’ve, done far worse things.”

“To people that deserved it.” I whispered back. And that was the root of it all. The way we had done unspeakable things to people in the past had never bothered me, because they would have done the same if they got the chance. But sweet, naive Tarquin…

“He’ll understand in time.” Was all he offered, and I saw red tinge the edge of my vision. 

“But at what cost? He’s a good ally to have if we come down to war and we very well might have pushed him into Hyberns hands.”

“If it takes a simple theft for him to go to Hybern then he was never truly an ally.” I wanted to slap the cock-sure look off of my brother's face. 

“Send in Azriel when he gets back.” Dismissal clear in my tone. Rhys looked at me, but I turned away from him. He said my name softly. 

“Get.Out.” I gritted out, picking up a pillow to throw at him but when I turned around he was already gone. 

Azriel did come to my room later in the day, but only long enough to bring me food and say goodbye. He was doing more patrols, checking  his network of spies for any word that Summer might be preparing to send soldiers to our doors. He left before I could say anything to him, only leaving a single shadow behind. It stayed near my bed until I ate the food Azriel had brought for me. Then, and only then, did the shadow retreat to the corner of my room, making me feel a little less alone as I drifted off to sleep. 

It took days for me to finally come out of my room. Nothing compared to the weeks of waiting for the queens to reply to our request. Rhys didn’t have to inform me I would not be coming to the meeting and I didn't have it in me to argue with his decision. He would keep an open line to me from the human lands and I would be able to add my two cents if it was needed. But after my reaction to Tarquin, wwe couldn’t risk another break down on my end. As much as everyone understood where I was coming from, they knew the role I played weighed heavily on me and if I was to attend the meeting I would need to play my part perfectly. A part I didn’t want to play at the moment. That would leave me with Amren, the ancient fae had not let the book out of her sight since it had been given to her. Rhys and I were the only others who had an inkling of how to translate the equally as ancient language, but it took me far more concentration than it took her. 

She didn’t seem to care because no sooner had my family left before she was hauling the book onto the table in my office. The map had been moved to a larger table so she sprawled out sheets of paper with random sentences scribbled onto them, like she was translating faster than she could write them down. I stared at the pages until my eyes began to blur over. Amren shot me a dirty look when I pushed away from the table rubbing my eyes. 

“Weak.” She muttered to herself and I didn’t dignify her taunt with a reply. I had nothing to prove to her, and she very well might be right. I didn’t have the same pull to war like she did, planning it was hard enough. Despite how naturally it came to me, I despised the scheming and backstabbing that usually accompanied it. I didn’t spare her a glance as I walked out of the room, leaving her to her own devices to try to make sense of the pages of the book. 

It was around dinner time when everyone appeared in the front room of the house. I could feel the tension radiating off of Rhys and I wondered why he hadn’t tried to contact me. Until I followed him into his office and he spun around, looking like he was ready to attack me. 

“They want proof that we’re not the court the rumors suggest. They want to see behind the mask.” He spit out, hands lacing into his hair looking like he might pull it from his roots. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked him softly. Taking very slow steps towards him. He growled before he pushed the contents of his desk to the ground. He stood, chest heaving rapidly as he just stared at the floor. 

“I’m going  to show it to them. For the first time since its creation, I’m going to show someone Velaris.” He sunk into his chair, like his legs would no longer support him. I sensed Cassian and Azriel behind me then. I shot them a look that told them to get out and they left as quickly as they had entered. I walked over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him. The sob he let out shook me to my very core and I could only hold him tighter. NO words of encouragement found their way from my throat. 

“I’m sorry for judging you so much over the last weeks.” He said once the sobs had stopped echoing around the room. 

“You were only trying to-”

“I was only being selfish. You made a hard choice and look at me the moment I’m presented with one.” 

“You’re allowed to feel things, Rhys.” A conversation we had had far too many times. He shook his head against my shoulder.

“Not if this is what it does to me. Not if it puts my family in danger.” He sounded so broken and exhausted. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” My words only made him start sobbing again. And I just held him, not trusting myself to speak as he cried himself out. 

We didn’t speak of the events in his office, that singular moment of weakness from my brother and the others knew better than to ask. The withering glare I had shot Amren when she even attempted to pry served as warning to leave it be. They let it be as the focus quickly turned to the trip to Hewn city. The Veritas orb would be the only way the queens would ever truly believe us. 

So we all prepared. Dressing in finery like it was no different than our fighting leathers. Because in that wretched court they were synonymous. Lipstick akin to war paint and a lethal smile more than just an expression.

I dug in the back of my closet for the ballgowns I reserved only for these occasions. The one I chose for tonight was made of a fabric so black it looked purple. Cut outs at my waist and a neckline that nearly dipped to my navel. Twin slits up the legs that closed right under my hip bone. I left my hair down as I usually did, pinning it to one side of my head. Slipping in my crown I didn’t give myself another glance in the mirror. 

The dress left no room for weapons anywhere on my body but Azriel would be by my side as we searched for the orb. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to even think of using the polished blade that sat on his hip. 

Mor and I arrived first. Winnowing ahead of the others to announce our arrival. There weren't many preparations to be made, the court never one to stop partying. Only stopping enough to sleep or the occasional formal dinner. So Mor and I waited. And waited. Kier grew ever impatient at the lack of my brother's appearance. 

“He’s your high lord, he can come and go whenever he pleases.” My voice the perfect picture of an ice cold princess. Stuck up and full of mirth. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes of course, I just wish to go back to my own festivities instead of waiting for him to grace us with his presence.” 

“You will wait as long as he sees fit.” I bared my teeth at him and all he did was give me a wicked smile. I fought to keep my face even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me. 

Mor was shifting from foot to foot. Looking at her, you would think she was bored, but her tight grip on her arms was the only indication about how uncomfortable she was. Standing in the same room as her father. Neither of them so much as looked at the other. 

“Why don’t you go check on the others. Make sure they remembered we were coming.” I said to Mor, giving her an excuse to leave if only for a few minutes. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a tight nod in appreciation. When she arrived, her face was grim before that mask of indifference snapped back into place. I would have to ask her about it later. 

I almost sighed in relief when I saw my brother, Feyre in tow behind him, walk through the heavy obsidian doors. Kier had already gone back to the main room, my threatening promise of collecting him when my brother appeared. 

“Wait for the others.” Rhys said to me as he brushed by me, steps not faltering as he walked into the throne room. So I waited for Cassian and Azriel. They arrived a few minutes after Rhys had left the room. 

“What happened?” I hissed at them, seeing their glowing siphons. 

“Ambush. We’ll tell you more later.” Azriel said in a clipped voice, shadows whipping around his feet. Clearly agitated. I nodded. 

“You better.” I answered before we all fell into our positions. Azriel on my right and Cassian on my left, me a few paces in front of them. The three of us walked into the throne room. If it wasn’t already silent, the sheer presence of the three of us would have quieted it. As it was, eyes tracked our every move, people all but jumping out of the way of the three of us. Gone were the playful smiles and casual words. Here I was more than just darkness, if Rhys night incarnate and I was something different entirely. The absence of anything, a void. Everyone here had witnessed first hand my powers. The smoke that could incapacitate everyone standing before me, when I had my full powers. Then there was Azriel and Cassian, the wicked spymaster and the bloodthirsty general. 

A path was cleared for us up to the dias where Rhys was standing. Azriel and Cassian knelt at the foot of the marble steps. I joined my brother on the opposite side as Feyre. A feline smile gracing my features as I looked at the kneeling figures of the court. 

“How lovely of you to finally join us.” 

“Call it fashionably late.” Rhys chuckled darkly at my response. With that he walked over to his throne. Pulling Feyre onto his lap. I walked a few paces to stand beside him, my usual position as his sister. I was not expected to kneel for him, instead presenting a unified front. The terrifying high lord and his equally powerful sister. 

I tried to ignore the way Rhys ran his hands all over Feyre. She had already been warned of the role she would have to play while visiting this court. A role she accepted. I admired how bravely she was taking it all. He leaned in to whisper something I tried to tune out. The court is still kneeling, bodies shifting with the strain of the position. As if remembering that they were even there. “Go play.” Was the only acknowledgement he gave them. Dismissing them like they weren’t worth his time anymore. The music began after a few moments. People scramble to do something to distract themselves. 

I walked over to the two warriors as Rhys summoned Kier from his spot near the dias. I fought the urge to hiss at him as he walked by me. I let a small flicker of smoke leak from my hands instead, a threat. He snarled at me and I only let out a low laugh. 

Azriel was already waiting for me. Ready to surround us in darkness to retrieve the orb. We hung by the edge of the room for a little longer, slipping out seamlessly. 

I led the way down the twisting hallways to the vaults that lay hidden underneath Kier’s bedchambers. Azriel needed someone from our bloodline to get in that room, the wards being keyed to our family. We didn’t run into any guards on the way, the wards making it unnecessary.

We entered the cavernous room and began searching. Azriel sent his shadows off through the various tunnels to search ahead of us. We searched through room after room. Silently cursing my extended family for the sheer amount of things they held onto. Jewels and ancient tomes. Records of every dealing of the court of nightmares. I rolled my eyes at the absurd opulence of it all. Azriel’s shadows whipped back to him, wrapping around his shoulders. No doubt whispering of the orbs wearabouts. He grabbed my hand in his as the shadows slunk back to their previous location. The orb was sitting high on a shelf. Out or reach if it wasn’t for Azriel’s wings. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in a bag hidden underneath his leathers. 

We started the walk back to the throne room. The sound of footsteps alerting us of someone else's, several someones, presence. Without thinking, I pulled Azriel’s face close to mine. Bringing a hand up to his face. His hand went to wrap around my waist at the quick movement. 

“Play along.” I whispered to him. I gave a quiet sultry laugh and the footsteps stopped mere feet from us. I jumped back like they had surprised me. Peeling myself off of Azriel. I stepped away, forcing an embarrassed look onto my face. 

The two males only stared at Azriel and I. Taking note of the secluded spot, the space I had abruptly put between us. Predatory smiles graced their faces. 

“Don’t let us ruin your fun.” One said.

“Unless you would rather us join.” The other added. From the lilt of their voices, I could tell they were drunk. Too drunk to realize exactly who they were speaking to like that. I only made a disgusted sound, pulling Azriel behind me as the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway behind us. 

Azriel and I blended seamlessly into the dancing crowd. The music was slightly more refined than earlier. He didn’t say anything to me as I pulled his hand into mine and put his other hand on my waist. He slowly let his shoulders relax, leaning into me and his footing became more sure. 

It didn’t take long for me to forget why we were doing this, that we had nearly been caught despite his shadows. As I danced with him, I forgot anything but us existed.

The music flowed through me making me feel light as he spun me around the dance floor. I didn’t care about the eyes tracking us across the room. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on my exposed waist. He whispered a joke at something his shadows must have picked up and I threw my head back with laughter. Truthfully I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. My mind fully focused on Azriel. 

I prayed to the mother he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that had risen along my skin against his touch. 

He dipped me low and I felt my breath stop. His face an inch from mine. It would be so easy to close that distance and feel his lips against mine. Every part of my brain was screaming at me to do it. His shadows raced around us like they could hear my thoughts. My traitorous body locked up when all I wanted to do was pull him to me. He took in the tension in my body and started to pull away. Panicking at the thought of losing his body heat against mine, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me, right as he started to stand me up. I bit back a moan as I felt the plush of his lips collide with mine. 

It was clumsy and rushed but I sucked down breaths full of him, hand still locked on his neck. His hands tightened their hold against me and he groaned my name before he pushed me away. 

“I’m sorry. I…” all the joy had leached out of me as I took in his face. He looked disgusted and before I could say anything else he was weaving through the crowd, leaving me alone on the dance floor. 

My mind was reeling. Lips still tingling in the aftermath. I had dreamed of that kiss for centuries but never could have predicted his reaction. The tears were streaking down my face before I quickly wiped them away, pushing my way through moving bodies. I needed to get out of this room, get out of this stupid dress that had suddenly become too tight to breathe. 

Before I could rip it off in the middle of the throne room, Rhys caught my elbow and was pulling me down to a quiet hallway. I haven't even realized he had left his throne. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t answer with anything other than a sob. He took me into his arms and my skin crawled at the contact. I shrugged out of his hold and could only get out one word. “Mor.” I said her name like the lifeline it was. I saw the conflict in Rhys’ eyes. The need to make me feel better and not leave me alone. But as another sob passed my lips he was all but running away to grab the female I had requested. 

I was hiccuping between sobs by the time Mor arrived. Rhys nowhere in sight, probably returning back to that cruel High Lord facade. I don’t think I could have gotten the words out of what had happened if he was still standing beside me. I choked out the words to her. Recounting what happened and Azriel’s less than enthusiastic reaction. Mor was well aware of my feelings and her eyes shone with sympathy. She held me as I cried it out, tears soaking the fabric on her shoulder. Her hold on me helped to ground me and eventually my tears calmed. I gave her the tightest squeeze I could manage and she held me at arms length, examining my face. Her thumbs came up to wipe under my eyes, coming away with streaks of my makeup sticking to them. My own hands brushed along my face and a sigh of relief followed as I noticed my makeup hadn't smudged too much. No one would be able to know the mess a single kiss had just reduced me to. 

Taking Mors outstretched hand, she pulled me back into the main ballroom, music filling my ears again. The tempo had picked up more turning into something I might hear at Rita’s and definitely something you couldn’t waltz to. Couples had retreated to the sides as the dance floor became a breathing pulse instead of the graceful swell of movement it had been earlier. The pairs that had remained grinding against each other. Mor snagged two flukes of champagne as she pulled us deeper into the dance floor. I knocked mine back as quickly as I could and resolved to block out all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. So I danced with Mor until my brow was covered in sweat, my skin glistening at the rising temperature of the entire room. We ignored all the disgruntled looks aimed our way. Not caring if they heard our laughter for once. 

We both laughed as we found our way to the edge of the crowd again, grabbing more champagne. We both hung back catching our breath together and I let out a heavy sigh as I emptied the glass. I spotted the shadows from across the room and all but slammed the glass onto the table behind me. 

“I’m leaving.” Was all I said to Mor as I stalked away. She didn’t try to stop me, only grabbed my arm to winnow me back to Velaris. She didn’t linger. Returning just as swiftly as we had arrived. 

I just made it back to my room before the tears started anew. Ripping the pins out of my hair and peeling the beautiful dress off my shaking frame, I didn’t make it to my bed before I sunk down to my feet. Pulling my knees close to my chest I let the tears come. 

He was allowed to not return my feelings but in those moments on the dance floor that kiss had felt so real. The way I effortlessly fit against him or the laughter that flowed freely from me. It all felt so right and to see that look on his face. It broke some part of me I had been holding onto for so long now. That small dream that he could for some reason ever return my sentiments. That he would ever see me as anything as Rhys’ sister. 

I eventually was able to pull myself into bed and curl myself into a ball. Tears lulling me off to sleep. I must have dreamt that night because I swore I felt those familiar shadows glide over my skin but by the time I opened my eyes they were gone. 

I managed to pull myself out of bed the next morning. Pushing the stinging rejection to some deep part of me. There’s a war at our doorsteps and you’re crying over a kiss. I reminded myself to stop being so pathetic as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I was the last to arrive apparently. 

“You disappeared rather quickly last night.” Cassian said to me, tone teasing but laced with questions. 

“We got the orb, and I no longer wanted to be there.” I shrugged. Pointedly ignoring the gaze of the shadowslinger I could feel burning a hole in the side of my head. I didn’t talk to him all morning, suddenly finding someone calling my name when he tried to speak to me. It was childish, sure, but I didn’t have it in me to discuss it without breaking down in front of him. As it was, I could barely make eye contact with him. My lips tingled every time I look at him. A feeling that I imagine must be similar to being struck by lighting erupted over my skin. I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Lucky for me, Rhys had called me into his study to go over the events of last night. What that would mean for our upcoming trip to the queens.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice that Rhys had stopped talking. 

“What happened to you last night?” Rhys asked in a soft voice. I shook my head. If I started talking about it I wouldn’t be able to stop. Rhys would know everything.

“Weren’t you just the one telling me you don’t have to do this by yourself. Gods just let me help you.” 

“You can’t fix this, Rhys.”

“Why not?”

“Azriel kissed me.” He tensed at my rushed words. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was cold as death. I shook my head.

“Not the way you mean.” He tapped his hand impatiently against his desk, waiting for more of an explanation. So I sighed and told him everything. 

“How long have you been in love with him?” He asked when I finally finished my story. 

“I’m not-” His pointed stare made me wither. “Only a few years after you became high lord.” I admitted. He had the audacity to laugh. 

“Cassian and I called it.” I gaped at him.

“Not out loud or anything but we always assumed.” 

“That’s all you have to say about this?”

“You’re an adult. He’s an adult.” 

“So you have no idea why he reacted that way.” He looked sheepish at my question. Hands going to pick at an invisible piece of lint. “Rhysand.” He flinched as I said his full name. 

“No. I have no idea.” He threw his hands up in the air before he said “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him yourself?”

It was my turn to look sheepish. 

“That explains why you’ve been avoiding him all morning then.” A smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“And I’m sure you were whispering all about the mating bond in Feyre’s ear last night?” I returned. 

“Touche.” 

“Who would have guessed, the two scariest fae in all of Pyrthian and we run with our tails between our legs at the thought of a romantic relationship.” 

“Pathetic truly.”

“If only they could see us now.” I joked back. 

I felt better after my talk with Rhys, lighter even. It was nice to have him know even if it meant I would have to endure his teasing at times. Azriel said nothing about my change in mood as I finally acknowledged him, Rhys making a lewd gesture behind the spymaster. I fought to keep my laugh down. Azriel looked behind his shoulder to find a perfectly still Rhys, his head turned back to me and then to Rhys again, like he might catch him if he moved fast enough. 

“We should-” He started before I held up a hand.

“Not necessary. I got the message loud and clear.” He deflated ever so slightly at my words and didn’t say anything else. So I carried on about my day as usual, until it was time to get dressed for tonight.

The gown I wore tonight was vastly different from the one I wore to Hewn city. This was a silver, tiered dress. Ruffles formed to look like butterfly wings and encrusted with gems on the edges. The neckline was far more modest than my other dress, swooping gently right under my collar bone. I couldn’t help but twirl in the mirror. Giggling at the rainbows the clear gems threw across the ceiling. It truly was a gorgeous dress. One I had custom made from one of the shops in Velaris. 

I didn’t wait for any of the others to join me. I had gotten ready at the house of wind so I could join the festivities the moment I was ready. Too excited to waste one minute with Mor fussing about her hair. I stood on the balcony, eyes already searching for those little flickers of starlight. 

“You look beautiful.” A voice behind me said, making me jump. I haven't heard Azriel approaching behind me. He stood beside me by the railing, leaning on his elbows. It was peaceful, standing next to him with the wind brushing against my skin. The events from last night eddying out of my mind with him so close to me. 

“I missed this.” I nearly whispered to him. Looking out at the lights of the city I loved. Hearing the laughs and joyous shouts of everyone above us. It was all too much and not enough, the thought of it bringing happy tears to my eyes. Tears that I felt scared hands wipe away before I could. “I’m sorry. I just… I never thought I would see this again.” His eyes filled with a deep sadness. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, Mor called my name. Rushing over she put a glass of champagne in my hand, pulling me upstairs with the other. Azriel trailed behind us. 

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft smile that he returned. Cassian was waiting for all of us, talking to some pretty female that was batting her eyelashes at him. He didn’t give her a second glance when he spotted us approaching, the female calling his name as he retreated from her side. I could have laughed at the look she gave all of us but I didn’t have time to think about it as Cassian swept me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Look at you all dolled up, princess.” Cassian said as he held me at arms length. 

“Couldn’t have you upstage me” I winked at him which only made him throw his head back with laughter. I joined in and felt a weight uncurl from my shoulders. 

“Come on.” Mor said as the music started to pick up. The telltale sign that the best part was just ahead. My eyes searched the crowd for my brother. I wanted to share this moment with him. I caught the outline of wings on the balcony above us. Tucked away enough that I really had to search for him. I saw the sparkle of Feyre’s dress and a warm smile plastered itself to my face. His arm was wrapped around her waist. I looked away, giving them their privacy. 

No sooner had I looked back to the sky did I see the faint trails of light beginning to fill it. First one, then a few more, then the sky was full of the brightly colored trails. Bits of stardust landed in the river below us, covering the surface with their glittering color. Mor grabbed my hand, pulling me into a uneleagant dance. Cassian and Azriel joined in a few moments later. The four of us not caring about the moves we made, simply soaking up each other's company. Azriel wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side and I felt my heart skip a beat. Mind instantly going back to our dance at the court of nightmares. He shot me an almost apologetic smile that told me he was thinking the same thing. I shrugged at him. Nothing to apologize for. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Simple as that. It didn’t have to mean anything, nothing more than the heat of the moment decision. As much as it hadn’t been that for me, as much as it stung to know that’s all he saw it as.

 Shaking the thoughts away, I grabbed his arm and swayed gently to the beat. Cassian and Mor devolved into a dance that was more jumping than dancing. They wrapped their arms around each other howling with laughter. 

I felt the glittering substance hit my arm. Looking down to inspect it, I noticed Azriel’s wings sporting their own splatters. It took every ounce of brain power I possessed not to reach up and brush it off of those beautiful wings. Instead I dipped a finger through the dust on my arm and wiped a streak over Azriel’s cheek. He stared at me in disbelief before a booming laugh left him. The sound warmed my heart. He laughed like this so rarely, truly carefree. It seemed so natural to lean in and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as we just stood in each other's embrace. I tilted my head up so  I could see his hazel eyes already looking down at me.

“Azriel I…”

He let me go when Mor cried out my name, cutting off my words.

“You’re not nearly drunk enough.” She said pulling my arm to the table holding the full glasses. I turned to look at Azriel but he seemed to have disappeared already. His shadow trailing across my shoulder being the only indicator he had even been there. 

Mor and I stayed on the rooftop until the sun started peaking over the horizon. Coloring the Sidra a beautiful pink and orange. Sighing heavily as the lingering effects of the alcohol had started to wear off finally, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Mor simply grabbed my arm and winnowed us back to the house. 

Cassian and Azriel were asleep on the couches. A bottle of whiskey sitting empty on the table between them. They wouldn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. I threw blankets over both of them and started heading to my own room. I didn’t stay up long enough to bathe nor did I peel myself out of my dress. Suddenly too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. 

I woke up sometime in the late afternoon. Rhys all but pulled me out of bed.

“We're leaving soon.” That woke me up. With a curse I stumbled over myself to get to the bathing room. I took a hasty bath, washing away the remaining stardust that was stuck to my skin. I braided my hair and dressed in my Illyrian leather. Daggers slid into their place on my thigh. I strapped my sword to my back and was down to meet the others in less than thirty minutes. Rhys gave me an approving nod. 

Going to Windhaven never got any easier. I had no love for my old home. It was only a blessing from the cauldron that I haven't been born with wings. The cruelty I faced growing up was enough. The shudder that racked through me had nothing to do with the cold. 

I ignored the sneers from passing by males. Azriel and Cassian tight by my side serving as a buffer for the nasty comments that were usually thrown my way. Feyre was silent beside me, taking in the sights around her. 

We walked until Lord Devlon walked in front of us. A brutish male that was one of the few people in this world I can say I truly hated. Mor snarled at the mention of the girls they were supposed to be training. 

“And why aren’t the males helping them with the chores?” I dared to ask him. He looked at me like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his leathers. 

Before Devlon could grace me with a response Rhys cut him off. The demanding voice of a high lord telling him to clear out our old house. The tone even Devlon couldn’t argue with. 

Rhys, Feyre and I stood in the clearing. Time and time again she reached her power out, getting stronger each time. I practiced along with her. She stood in awe of the mist that poured out of my hands, getting thicker each time until it hugged the ground like fog. 

“When did you meet Tamlin?” Feyre asked after a string of questions about Illyria. Rhys and I both stiffened. The mist instantly retreated back into my hands. 

“Show me something impressive and I’ll tell you.” She rolled her eyes but did it anyway. Holding out her hand she conjured a butterfly out of the water in the snow. It was very impressive. 

“I’ve known Tamlin since he was young. The more decent children of the high lords at the time. Definitely better than Berons bunch.” He almost shivered and I willed the earth to swallow me whole. “And significantly better than his brothers, who knew from the moment Tamlin was born he would be high lord. He was the lesser of the evils so I decided it would be better if we were friends… I don’t know why but I even taught him some illyrian techniques.” 

“Did anyone know?” He shook his head. I blanched at the thought of how angry our father would have been had he known about Rhys and Tamlin’s friendship. Rhys looked to me, knowing the next part of the story was mine to tell. I just nodded at him, giving him permission to say the words I couldn’t. 

“When my father got wind of our friendship… for lack of a better term. He decided it was time for the two courts to align themselves more. And that’s where this gets even more complicated.” He trailed off, once again looking at me. 

“Why?” Feyre pressed on and I wish she hadn’t , wish she would have let it go at that. 

“Because the only way to join the courts in any way my father deemed worthy was to marry them together. Literally.” Feyre’s eyes went wide and her gaze landed on me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Shame rising up, tightening my throat. Rhys continued. 

“We all saw the power that Tamlin had, the power that marked him as the next High Lord of spring. And without any sisters for me to get paired off to, that left one option.” He shrugged over at me. 

“What happened? I mean, I’m assuming you never…never went through with it.” I took a deep breath, willing my voice to work. 

“I moved to the spring court, I tried to fight it but my father would absolutely not hear it. Every plea fell on deaf ears. So I went because I had to,” my hands were shaking as I pulled up the memories. “It wasn’t so bad. Tamlin was different back then, sweeter, less guarded. At least when he wasn’t around his father. We became friends over time. But the closer we grew, the more protective he got over me.” She nodded, understanding the feeling. “Eventually it became a little more. He fell faster than I did, I never really saw him as more than a close friend but we were supposed to be married so I played along. Wishing every day that I could return his sentiments. Calanmi came that next year and he sought me out.” She paled at my words, her hand rubbing absentmindedly at her neck. I quickly added. “It wasn’t horrific by any stretch of the imagination. If I had said no, regardless of the magic, he wouldn’t have done it. Would have stopped. But that was when everything shifted for him. I couldn’t go out to the gardens without having his sentinels on my tail. Was damn near confined to only the house. Lucien wasn’t around as much then, still fairly new to the court. And of course, his father was watching our every move. Gauging the relationship as it progressed. Watched as I withered away under Tamlin’s overbearing protection.” I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed out of my mouth. 

“I pushed back as much as I could. I was constantly sneaking out which only made him more overbearing. We fought more than we didn’t. Both of us said and did horrible things to each other. I knew I couldn’t live like that forever. Couldn’t continue to suffer just because my father had some grand plan.” I finally met Feyre’s eyes and I almost flinched at the understanding in them. Of course she would get it. Her own experience was not too different from mine. She nodded at me, a sign to keep going. 

“So I started planning how to get back home. I couldn’t just winnow away in the dead of night. I knew he would come looking for me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I had to break whatever love he thought he held for me, I had to make him let me go willingly. It wasn’t peaceful by any means. I went too far one day in an argument and for the first time ever he lost control.” I pulled up the arm to my jacket, letting the glamor fall away on the three angry claw marks that I never let heal. A reminder of just how destructive both of our tempers had gotten. 

“Why do you seem so calm about this, why didn’t you let me know…I would have-” Her skin was rippling with darkness. Fire flickering from her palms. 

“Would have what, Feyre? You were willing to die for him. I couldn’t take that away from you. I wanted to believe he could change, that he would be better to you. But that is simply how he loves.” I took a steading breath. “I said we both did some terrible things to each other and I stand by that. He’s a villain in my story as much as I am in his.” 

“We simply didn’t want to think we were trying to turn you against him” Rhys echoed. 

Rhys reached for her as she was already walking towards him. My ears barely picked up the whispered words. 

“I want to paint you.”

“Nude would be best” I rolled my eyes as Rhys reached to winnow me with them. 

I was able to catch up with Mor and Cassian as they surveyed the newest girls in training. Most of them were too scared to even pick up a sword, their eyes not moving from worriedly staring at Cassian. Signing, I stepped up in front of him. 

“Magic or no magic?” He asked, raising a challenging eyebrow to me. 

“Magic.” That gave him full permission to use his siphons. That was one department where I needed the practice as much as he did. I tried to pull all my focus on that kernel inside me. The smoke curled out from me before it retreated the moment I moved towards Cassian.

“Try harder.” He growled at me. And I did. I’d been able to coat the ground in the black fog. Cassian stepping to avoid it, but it followed him like a serpent. Twisting and curling around him. It was easier this time. More like trying to pull it through murky water as opposed to a brick wall. Something had changed since this afternoon. It was easier to hold onto it, and didn't leave me as breathless as before. It took a few more tries but I was even able to move around, the fog still staying on the ground. When we were done, I noticed Mor was coaching three of the girls who had been brave enough to pick up swords. I smiled at Cassian as we both watched her. It wasn’t much but it was progress. Slow progress but a start. 

All of us sat around the fire that night. Gathering as close as we could, trying to gain any sort of warmth from it. Feyre looked like her hands might just fall off, not built for or used to the frigid temperatures the night brought with it. We sat absently chatting as we all ate. Mor was going to Hewn city in the morning and Azriel had already left to scout out the human lands. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him going alone but he waved off my concern, promising me he would be safe. Mor, true to her word, left before the sun had even risen the next morning. Grumbling my good bye to her through sleep filled eyes. 

Rhys had convinced me to train with him and Feyre again. Impressed by the progress both of us had made so far. Feyre and I traveled further back into the clearing, putting space between her and my brother. I didn’t ever ask him what exactly had happened during starfall but the tension between the two was palpable and I didn’t blame her for needing space. As much as I hated being away from Azriel, the distance was nice. I felt like I was suddenly unable to think clearly around the shadowslinger. Thoughts more often than not drifting towards the memory of his lips on mine, his hands around my waist. 

A voice I recognized called out Feyre’s name. And to my horror it was not my brother but Lucien standing in the middle of the clearing. 

I stood by, ready to use my powers at the first sign from Feyre. Lucien and the wraiths at his side had yet to notice me. 

I hung onto every word of their exchange. Someone tipped us off that you had been here. Rage boiled my blood. Devlon no doubt being that someone. I took a step forward as Feyre stepped back. 

“Tamlin hasn’t been himself. We’ll take you back-

“Touch her and I kill you.” There was no warmth in my voice for my old friend. Lucien spun around so he was facing me. Giving Feyre time to put space between the two of them. He stared at me, mouth gaping. Smoke was already swirling around my feet. It would take nothing for me to reach out and get Feyre out of here. But this was her battle to fight. I wouldn’t make that choice for her. I felt my self control start to slip as he opened his mouth again.

“Of course. What poison have you been spewing into her ears?” He spit at me. 

“Don’t make this about me.” I spit back so harsh, he flinched. A twig snapping had Lucien whipping back to face Feyre. 

“Let’s go home.” He said as he reached out a hand. I reached for my dagger, wondering if I would be fast enough to sever it from his body if he reached any closer for her. 

“That stopped being my home the moment you let him lock me away inside.” She spoke, quiet as death. He at least had the decency to look ashamed. 

“He made a mistake. He’s sorry, we’re both sorry.” I couldn’t help the scoff that left my mouth. He only ripped his gaze on her away for a second. 

“All this time and you can’t come up with better excuses, Lucien?” I goaded him, “Will he change? Will he be better if she just gives him time?” I felt the fog thin out by my feet. I didn’t pay it any mind. 

I lunged forward the same time Lucien did. A shout leaving my mouth. But his hands found nothing. Feyre was now standing behind him with Rhys at her side. I didn’t let myself relax. 

“Didn’t your mother tell you what the word no means?” Lucien did nothing by spit at my brother's feet. But it was that one word from his mouth.Whoring prick. That had me lunging for him. A firm arm across my chest from Rhys was the only thing holding me back. 

“You made your point Feyre-now come home.” He reached his hand out again but feyre only stepped back. 

“You gave up on me.” The way she spoke those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Lucien’s eyes flickered over to me. No doubt remembering me saying similar things. I was suddenly very far away until I saw those beautiful IIlryian wings peek over her shoulder. Lucien to his credit did not fall as he stumbled back. 

“What did they do to you?” Horror laced his words. Good. 

“Tell Tamlin I won’t be coming back. That if he sends anyone for me, I’ll show him exactly what we do to those who wander into our court.” I felt no sympathy at the hurt that washed over Lucien's face. 

“You’re dead. You and everyone in your court.” He was gone before I had the chance to lunge at him. 

“Scheming prick. Stupid, overconfident bastard.” I kept shouting, kicking the snow around me. I had half a mind to go track him down at the spring court and finish the job I should have done a long time ago. It wasn’t truly Lucien I was mad at, no he was simply the messenger. Once again trying to clean up Tamlins messes. It was either that or have no court to call home. Anger flared through me at the thought. How Tamlin took advantage of Lucien’s situation and turned him into nothing more than a mindless crony. I didn’t pay attention to the words Rhys and Feyre spoke around me. Didn’t even notice Cassian flying in beside me until he gave my arm a small shake. I ripped it out of his hold without even thinking, letting loose a snarl. He spoke my name, reminding me of where exactly I was.

“You’re all safe. Come back with me.” He said, moving closer to me again. I felt the tears already sliding down my face as he scooped me into his arms. 

I hardly moved for the rest of the night. The shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel was still hunting for lingering signs of Lucien or the spring court so that left Cassian to deal with me. Something he was not known to be the best at, despite his best efforts. 

I sat with him until Mor came to collect us both, whatever business she had in Hewn city officially ended. 

She sat with me all night. Both of us curled up against each other as we slept. 

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be back later in the day so we all waited around for them. Hour after hour past and not a word from them. Azriel had left once again when we told him as much. He returned an hour later. 

“Nothing?” I asked him. He slammed his sword down on the table. 

“Not a damn thing.” He huffed, storming to one of the rooms in the back of the house. 

It was almost nightfall and I had been pacing back and forth across the living room of the small house when I heard a noise from outside. All of us were on our feet, rushing outside before we could think better of it. 

The sigh of relief that left me quickly turned into a gasp as I saw Rhys fall to his knees. Cassian and Azriel were on their side of him instantly. Feyre was still standing, in perfect shape actually. Good enough that she was able to march right past me and into the house. The two Illyrian warriors all but dragged Rhys into the house before leaving to go collect Majda. Feyre or Mor were nowhere to be seen.

Rhys’ eyes opened slightly and he only called out Feyre’s name. I shushed him, dabbing a wet washcloth over his head, he was burning hot. Majda came and confirmed what I already knew. Poison. Faebane. 

“He’s healing so he’ll need to just sleep it off,” she rose from beside his bed. “His mate's blood very well might have saved his life. He’ll recover in a day or two.” Her words caught me off guard. His mate. If Feyre knew her blood could heal him…Shit. Casssian and Azriel must have made the connection at the same time I did because when we heard Mor enter the house again, we all ran to find her in the living room. 

We pulled out a bottle of good wine as she confirmed what we had already thought. Feyre knew, no she doesn’t seem happy. No I won’t tell you idiots where she is. Of course, we could find her on our own if need be but it was the idea behind it. Mor only shared the more intimate details with me. Shooing the males out of the room. “Go take care of Rhys if you care that much. He’ll tell you himself.” They both stomped off in a way that reminded me of toddlers, walking into Rhys room. Mor rushed the words out. Feyre was fine overall, just pissed at him at all of us for keeping something this big a secret. I didn’t blame her one bit but it still stung a little that she was mad at all of us. Did she know how much we had been begging Rhys to tell her? 

Rhys woke up in the middle of the next day. He winced as I slammed the door

“How did she find out?” 

“Hello to you too. No, how nice to see you Rhysand, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“How did she find out?” I asked again. He sat up a little more, wincing slightly

“She trapped the Suriel.” I balked at him. “It seems it’s not the first time she's done it either.” 

Feyre had trapped the Suriel… that could mean. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but I was already on my feet. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Stay out of it, Rhys.” I closed the door a little softer. It took me practically getting on my knees, begging, to convince Mor to take me to the house she tucked Feyre away in. She only agreed when I promised I wouldn’t mention my brother. She needed to bring Feyre more food anyways.

I stood outside the door, feeling very stupid as I held a basket full of food for her.“If you’re asking me to forgive him, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Feyre had only opened the door an inch

“I need you to tell me how to catch the Suriel.” She opened the door wider

“Why do you want to know?” She motioned me into the house and I looked around wildly. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and covered her skin. 

“I have something I need to ask. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially right now. But please.” 

I stood in the middle of a clearing, new cloak in hand. My hands had frozen on the walk over but I had to talk to the Suriel. I knew it was around here, if it had talked to Feyre only the night before. The snare I made was sloppy at best. But I prayed to the mother it would work. 

The scream that echoed through the clearing had me running towards the sound, crossing my fingers. 

It had indeed worked. The Suriel had my velvet cloak in its hands.It thrashed violently as I approached, suddenly;y going still as it sensed my presence. 

“ Let me down before I gut you.” 

“I have a question first.” Hollow eyes looked at me, pinning me in place. 

“You seek answers about your curse?” 

“How do I get rid of it?” 

“You already know how. The very thing that the wicked queen knew you would never do.”

“Stop the games. Tell me.” I was shouting, hands shaking. 

“Forgiveness. Forgive the one you hate the most.”

I flinched like the Suriel had burned me. The words swam around my head. I vaguely realized I was shaking my head. 

“That can’t be it.” I pleaded. 

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” I felt the angry tears starting to trail down my face. “Now let me go. I only have so much patience for meddling fae today.” I pulled out one of my jeweled daggers, slicing the rope that held the Suriel’s ankle. As the figure retreated, I sank down to my knees. Forgive the one you hate the most. 

It was a rare occurance to be summoned to her private chambers. Attors on either side of me, ready to strike at the first sign of push back. They unceremoniously threw me into the center of the room, pushing me to my knees in front of the red headed female. 

“Leave us.” She said in a voice that turned my stomach. I dared to raise my eyes off the ground. Rhys was perched in a soft looking chaise, he didn’t hold my eyes for long. The Attors shuffled out of the room but I knew they lingered in the hallway. 

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble again, princess.” It was all I could do not to flinch at the way she said that name. The name my family had called me for centuries. A defiled, twisted rendition of the sign of my family's love. “Well, I have a surprise for you.” Her voice dripped with a wicked delight. From somewhere in the room a noise drew my attention. I completely froze as I saw Tamlin being led out in chains. Even Rhys momentarily broke his mask to glare at him. Amarantha smiled at me as she walked over to him. She squeezed his cheeks in an overly familiar way. “Doesn’t he look good like this?” She laughs at my lack of response, pushing him away from her. He didn’t try to hide his stumble. “No groveling at his feet then? No apologies for the mess you got him into?” 

“That’s no-” An invisible hand around my throat cut off the words. Rhys’ eyes flickered to mine, an apology lingering in his violet stare. 

“Did I say you could speak?” She released her magic and I nearly fell to the ground, sucking in painful gulps of air. She stalked towards me, stopping inches from me. Her hand went out to cup under my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe if you hadn't broken his heart, he would have accepted my offer the first time.” I bared my teeth at her and she gave a sharp cold laugh. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Are you sure there’s no kind words for our little High Lord over here?”  I just held her gaze. Not wavering as I saw the fury in my lack of response, my lack of fighting. “Pity. Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” She pushed me, I landed on my back. I didn’t even cry out, too familiar with this treatment from her. 

“You’ve made your point.” Rhys said in a bored voice from his seated position. She only gave him a low growl. 

“You’re no fun.” She cooed at Rhys. The same voice you would use on a babe. Despite my best efforts, trails of black smoke so thick it looked like ink left my fingers. Another invisible force collided with my body and my power retreated back to me, my chest feeling like someone had poured ice water into my veins. Before I could even attempt to try again, she lifted me onto my feet by my hair. “As much as I’d love to see you try, I’m bored with you already.” She yanked my head back before releasing her hold on me. “Tamlin, any words of goodbye?” Forest green eyes met mine. After all that I endured in this hell, I had never felt as small as I did now. That simple glare, so full of hatred, reducing me to that same afraid girl I had once been. Tamlin didn’t speak. Neither did I. 

“Shame. You’ll wish you would have said something soon enough.” I didn’t have time to think over her words as the cold hands of the Attor wrapped around my arm, hauling me back to my room. Didn’t make the connection between that slam in my chest with the trickle of power that I was left with. 

It was right there. Amarantha was never one to just give you information. Just like that riddle that had saved us all. Everything had been a game to her, why would this have been any different? But there had to be another way. Thinking back to my encounter with Lucien recently, there was no way in hell I was forgiving any of them any time soon. I would talk to Helion. Go by myself if need be. Because it was going to be a cold day in Hel before I ever forgive Tamlin. 

I called out for Rhys. For anyone to come and get me. It was at least a day's journey on foot back to the boundary line outside of Windhaven. I sat by and no one came after me. I reached deep within myself and imagined the space I wanted to go to. I didn’t even make it half way before I popped back into the cold clearing, panting. I tried again and it was like I was reaching through brick again. My powers boarded up behind walls I could not break through. I kicked at the snow, cursing. I tried one last time, crying out when nothing happened. So I began to walk back, hoping when I got close enough Rhys would hear me screaming for him in my head. It wasn’t Rhys that came to get me. Instead, Mor appeared beside me. 

“Where have you been?” She said when she spied me, half frozen from the wind. 

“Later.” Was all I could get out, I was bone tired. 

“You all really need to get your shit together.” She grumbled under her breath as she winnowed us back to the house. Don’t I know it.

Rhys had gone to apologize to Feyre, and had not been back since. We could only hope that meant all was well, or that she had at least hid the body herself. 

Rhys and Feyre returned the next day. They didn’t even attempt to hide the smell of the bond, and as happy as I was for my brother I gave him a wide berth. Cassian on the other hand only saw the tension in Rhys shoulders, the way his eyes were drifting between Feyre and every other movement around him. 

“Anytime you want a real ride, Feyre, let me know.” As if his words weren’t enough, the wink he sent Feyre had Rhys lunging for him. I had to quickly side step out of the way to avoid being hit by flailing wings. Ushering Feyre into the house I muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Big Illyrian babies.” 

They fought for an hour and despite being covered in blood, Feyre sent Rhys a look that the rest of us could not run away from fast enough. Mor winnowed the two of us to the house of wind. Azriel was already there, wings tucked in tight as he looked out the large window overlooking Velaris. I snuck up behind him, a rare achievement to make the spymaster jump when I placed a hand on his shoulder. The others slowly trickled into the room as we all waited for Feyre and Rhys to join us. 

The sun was just starting to touch the water when we heard them enter. One by one we stood in front of Feyre before giving a low bow, hands on our hearts in an ancient gesture of respect. One she had more than earned. I couldn’t help but smile at my brother's joy, it radiated off of him in waves so strong I swore I could reach out and grab them. The joy of finally having Feyre by his side. Rhys’ eyes followed my hand as I rubbed a small circle into my chest, separate from the sign we had given Feyre. The tension eased slightly.  Rhys quickly looked away before I could ask him why he was staring so intently on me. 

The human world was just as I remembered it. Despite seeing it less than a month ago, I still gawked as we approached Feyre’s family home. I knew she never lived in this particular estate but the idea that Tamlin made this possible for them thawed my heart just a fraction. Forgive the one you hate the most. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to my brother, or anyone, about what Suriel had told me. Everyone too caught up in Rhys and the Queens we were sitting in front of. 

I sat in stunned silence at the vipers in crowns in front of us. The queens I had met before would laugh if they heard these were their predecessors. 

Mor opened the box in front of her and I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to knock it out of her hands and destroy the orb. Azriel’s hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me. We all took a collective breath as the bright lights of Velaris filled the orb.

“This is Velaris,” My brother started and I felt his heart shatter in front of me. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. This is what I have fought so hard to protect. The cruelty you believe I possess to protect this city, my people. Dreamers and creators and good people with families. People that have never known strife or violence. All of what I have gone through over the centuries was to protect them.” I couldn’t stop the sniffle that left me and I desperately tried to blink back the tears rimming in my eyes. 

“We will..consider this information.” Mor snarled beside me. I felt like the eldest queen had punched me in the stomach. I went to stand but Nesta beat me to it. 

“Give.Them.The.Book” I didn’t discount the single tear streaking down her own face. 

“No.” A word so final I couldn’t breathe. 

“We appreciate the gesture of your trust.” But I could not look away from the way Cassian stood next to Nesta. The calm he emitted from standing so close to her. When I looked back the queens were gone. 

I looked to my brother, head reeling at the events that had just happened. We fulfilled our end of the bargain. Screaming, manipulative-

In Rhys’ hand sat a box, a box not unlike the one Feyre had struggled to open when we returned from the summer court. A surprised noise left my mouth and Azriel tightened his hand on my shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles. 

Nesta and Elain chose to stay in the mortal lands. The sisters are staying in their family home. The last thing I heard before we left was Nesta whispering to Feyre. That’s why you painted stars on your drawer. 

There was no celebration when we arrived back in Velaris. No sense of triumph as we handed the book to Amren. We had gotten what we needed but at what cost. To Rhys, to my family, it had cost everything. All that he suffered during the war, from my father, from the Illyrian soldiers that looked down on him so much. All that he suffered under the mountain, from Amarantha, all the horrible things we had done together. All of it was sacrificed to the wicked queens who still did not know we possessed the book. Queens who would gladly sit back and watch Prythian and their world be destroyed. 

Rhys and Mor went to the Court of Nightmares the next morning, to return what we had stolen before Kier noticed. Azriel and Cassian pulled me into my study to go over the map, planning for the inevitable war. We added more pins to the maps, adjusting the Illryians to their new location scattered across the mountain ranges. Added the black pins for the warriors we prayed Kier would grant us. I don’t know how long we stayed in that room, Cassian and Azriel periodically doing a lap of the house and its perimeter to watch for anyone who would want to hurt Feyre. Overgrown guard dogs. But I found that even I was keeping a more watchful ear out for any sign of trouble, a light cover of fog I kept over my hands like gloves, ready to attack at a moment's notice. 

The next day, Azriel pulled me from the map to accompany him on patrol. Leaving Cassian the great pleasure of entertaining Feyre until Rhys’ return later today. The city held an eerie silence today despite the citizens going about their usual routines. It wasn’t much later than that thought crossed my mind that I felt the ground beneath my feet quake. My head whipped to Azriel who had gone as still as a statue, his shadows scattering out from him searching for the source of the sound. 

“Azriel?” I questioned, looking around the area for any threat. And then I followed his eye line. Eyes turned to the once clear midafternoon sky, now tinged in clouds of darkness. They were moving far too fast to be only storm clouds. 

“Get Amren and Cassian, now” I choked out. Azriel’s arms were around me instantly, taking off into the sky. Feyre and Cassian had gone to the amphitheater on the other side of the city, hopefully they weren’t far from there. A red light filled the sky, a homing beacon to where we would find Cassian. Quake after quake filled the ground as those creatures tore through the shield around the city. They reverberated through the air, Azriel only held onto me tighter.  

Cassian was shooting through the sky and I felt the ground beneath my feet. Azriel stayed long enough to hear me cry out to him, “Be safe.” He was gone. And I was running towards the direction I had seen Cassian fly in from. Screaming filled the air and I reached for the sword on my back, daggers left forgotten on my hip. I gave tentative push of my power and could have cried in relief at the cloud that pushed out from me, however thin it was. I pulled my earlier thought from my mind, the twinge of something I felt as I had looked at Feyre’s home in the human lands, the physical proof of Tamlin taking care of them, I focused all my spare energy onto that single kindness and I watched the fog grow thicker, curling around me in a way that was so familiar.

 I clutched at that feeling as I heard the screams around me grow louder. I could not run fast enough to stop the swarm of Attor like creatures that flooded the streets. I thought of Elain’s sweet face and Nestas beautiful dresses and willed my power to wrap around the creatures in front of me. If they could see me, they didn’t let it show. The only sign I had that my power had worked against them was the choked screams they let out. My sword tinged with their blood as I ran it clean through them. I pulled that black smoke into me, panting as I forced my legs to run ever faster. Reaching out for something deeper, I visualized the next swarm of them I could see and I felt the familiar pressure as I appeared in the middle of them. Shooting my power out with a force I didn’t recognize, I made quick work of them. They didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. I couldn’t focus on the blood that now stained my blade and face. Could only think of the distance between me and the bright pops of red and blue in the sky, the water I could hear roaring just ahead of me. If I had looked up I would have seen the pack of water wolves Feyre was using to chase them from the city streets and back into the air. 

The tremble that took my feet out from under me was one that did not scare me. Rhys had arrived and his rage took out half of their forces. His power filled the air with a metallic scent and I did my best not to think about what the dusting of red was as it covered my skin. A second roar, far stronger than the first one spurred me on. I did not fear the darkness that slipped over my eyes, those stars and nothing short of pure night. When I could finally make out shapes again, I saw the outline of wings, not those gnarled and bony wings of the creatures attacking us, but Illyiran wings, claws fully extended. I didn’t think as I barreled towards the shape. Didn’t think as I launched myself into Azriel’s chest. His arms came to wrap around my waist, pulling me so tight to him I struggled to breath but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I gulped down whatever breath I could, filling my lungs with the scent of him. Heart hammering in time with his own wild heartbeat. The screaming had stopped, leaving only a horrifying silence in their wake. I did not let go of Azriel as he winnowed us back to the townhouse. 

All of us were sitting in the living room of the house in various states of disarray. Mor’s hair was caked with dirt and flecks of blood, her eyes starting to flutter shut. Feyre was curled up next to her also looking like she was ready to fall asleep any moment. 

I could see the gears in Cassian's head spinning. The general already thinking about what this means for the greater battles ahead. Obviously, the queens had sold us out to Hybern. Our home had been used as a bargaining chip and it had bit us in the ass. 

My eyes flickered over to Rhys and I could tell his thoughts were in a similar spot. It wasn’t your fault. I said into his head. He flinched, a disgusted look replacing the grief for a brief second. I told them where the city was, I gave them the information freely and for the first time in centuries an outsider knows about the city and then we get attacked. How is that not my fault sister? It was my turn to flinch. With Rhys in his current mood, there was no point in trying to argue back. So I finally closed my eyes and tuned out the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. I didn’t have the energy to talk about Hybern right now. The throbbing headache behind my temples let me know just how much magic I had used today and let me know how much I needed to start hunting for ways to break this curse.

At some point Azriel had stretched out next to me on the couch, my back to his side. Half asleep, I turned to face him and just grabbed his arm. Curling around him as best as I could in our current position. Someone in the room chuckled as I settled down once again. I don’t know how much time passed as they all just sat and talked. I drifted in and out of sleep but couldn’t piece anything coherent together. At some point I felt Cassian standing over me. 

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” His voice held more humor than I would expect from him after today. My eyes didn’t even open before I said. 

“Move me from here and you will lose that hand.” I snuggled closer into Azriel to prove my point. The male by my side laughed a stiff laugh but wrapped his arm around me tighter. I was too tired to care about the content purr that left my chest at the motion. Too tired to care that he scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to my room. And definitely too tired to hear the three words he whispered to me as he closed my door.

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

[cassielovesnewt]

Safe | R.Black x platonic!reader

regulusblack x platonic!fem!reader

Synopsis: you are Regulus’ safe space, the person he can be himself around. And he is yours.

Warning: MCD, mentions of ab!se????

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Sometimes, you just like to be alone.

Now, this isn’t to say you don’t like being around your friends, because you love each and every one of them. But the thing is about being in a friendship group with four troublemaking boys, and living in a dorm with four loud girls, is that peace can be rather hard to come by.

You were an introvert by nature, but an extrovert around those you could trust, and other than your little Gryffindor family, there’s only one other you can truly be yourself around.

Regulus Black.

In your third year, and Regulus’ second, you and him had crossed paths on a midnight stroll to the kitchens.

You’d been wary at first, only knowing of him what Sirius had told you, but you soon found that Regulus could be just as sweet and kind as any Hufflepuff, as smart as any Ravenclaw and so incredibly brave that it put most Gryffindors to shame.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be down here.” He had said, a cold exterior to his voice that seemed unnatural. He turned to leave.

“You don’t have to leave, I normally just sit here and read anyway.” You tell him, taking a seat at one of the kitchen tables.

Regulus looked hesitant, as if merely associating with you would get him in trouble. Eventually, however, he took a seat on the furthest table from you, pulling out a notebook and his quill.

After that, it became a sort of tradition, sitting at your respective tables doing your respective tasks. However, as time went on, the space between the two of you got smaller, as you both gradually moved closer to the middle table.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” He asked you now, a single tear escaping and falling down his cheek.

You thought of the way Sirius spoke of his family, the way he despised them all and promised to never return. The way he practically fell into your arms when you arrived at James’ after the news.

“I don’t think so, Reggie.” You told him.

One thing you and Reggie had promised each other, was that you’d never lie to the other. You were both raised on lies, in completely different ways. Regulus had been told his whole life that his only purpose was to serve; his mother, the dark lord, produce an heir. You had been told that you didn’t deserve the same love you shared, you were told that no one would ever reciprocate the love you feel for others, and so maybe you should just stop.

Regulus looked down at his hands, holding the picture he carried in the tiny pocket of his tie. A little moving image of him and Sirius looked up at him, a relationship he believed would never be salvaged.

“You don’t have to either, you know.” You say, reaching to take one of hands in yours.

“I have to, it’s my responsibility.”

“No, it’s not. You think your mother cared about responsibility when she used that curse on you?” It was harsh to say, but you would say anything to make him understand that that house was not his only home. Not the only place he belonged.

“You do understand, Reggie, that I will get you out of this,” you told him, looking the boy you now saw as a little brother in the eyes, a secret promise in your stare. “I won’t let you get that mark, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“You can’t stop it, nobody can, don’t you understand?” He grabbed your arm, trying to make you see his sense, but you were relentless. “Since Sirius left, my mother had a grip on me so tight it’s hard to breathe, y/n.”

“And so have I.” You pulled him into a rare hug.

Regulus was never one for affection, verbal nor physical. He never saw the desire to be in a relationship and he saw even less sense in physical intimacy such as kisses and sex. It didn’t interest him. But you did, in a pure and platonic way.

See, Regulus has friends in his house, but not the kind you can talk to, not the kind you can sit and just exist with.

He found a blissful form of existence with you. You didn’t expect anything from him, didn’t want him to be anything he didn’t want to be. And you didn’t think of him as worthless when he couldn’t do something, instead you made room for him to be exactly who he wanted to be, and that was enough for you.

“Please, Reg. Come home with me.” You asked.

Regulus had read many books, many romances and fantasies and books his mother definitely wouldn’t approve of. When someone asked you to come home with them, it usually had explicit intentions, the act of taking someone home had undertones of possession, or intimacy.

But with you it meant safety, salvation, a place to exist and be safe. A place to call home where you don’t have to watch over your shoulder and keep your form. A home where peace can be felt in the foundations of the walls, and the threads of the carpet and tapestries.

With you it meant love, and affection.

In a way Regulus had only ever felt with you.

He thought of you often, when he felt alone or when he felt helpless. You had never made him feel any of that, not once.

He thought of you as the mark was imprinted into his skin, the sharp pain shooting from his forearm to his bicep, up to his shoulder.

He thought of you when he realised just how out of his depth he was, staring at the sketch of the locket he was hunting to steal.

He thought of running to you, instead of following through, asking for your help, your salvation.

He thought of you and his Brother as he was dragged into the depths of the ocean, falling deeper into the black abyss as the inferi clawed and reached at him, pulling him down, down, down.

His last thought as the burning of his lungs became too much, as the peace of the water turned to silence, as his limbs stopped responding to his brain, his heart stopped beating, was you. The thought of you hopefully being safe, of never having to fight a war that was not yours to fight. The thought of his brother having someone as pure as you to exist with, as he did all those years.

He wanted his last thought to be of someone safe, and it was, because his last thought was you.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Somewhere in the middle of London, a young Gryffindor girl felt a burning in her lungs.

She felt a part of herself being ripped away, a pain she’d only known once when she lost her mother. And deep down she knew, that her truest friend had been lost to the war he neither started or wanted to fight in.

And she blamed herself.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 38/?

Prev | Next

Jason’s guilt grew as he entered his newly restored Mustang.

He had finished fixing her up that day and had been excited to take his little family around the village.

And he had. He had put Danny in a booster seat and Ellie in a car seat and taken a drive with Jazz in the passenger seat. They made it a family day, ate out, sang out of tune with whatever song came on the radio, and had a good time.

Then, they got home, Danny fell asleep, and Jason started feeling down.

He had no idea why he had bouts of depression, but they were starting to become annoying. Well, they would be if he had the space to feel annoyed.

Jason rubbed his chest. It hurt as if someone was squeezing his heart.

Jason turned on the car and felt the soft purr. He stayed in the car, not daring to move. Why couldn’t he feel happy all the time? Why was he thinking about his old family so much? Every time he felt miserable about his old family, he felt guilty. It felt as if he was betraying his current family.

Jason was so lost in his negative thoughts he didn’t notice Jazz until she entered the passenger side.

“Jazz, what are you doing here? Are the kids alone?”

Jason was about to leave the car when Jazz pulled out a baby monitor.

“I got it covered,” she said, “Besides, nobody can come through our haunt without us knowing.”

Jason said nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” came his automatic response. Jazz raised an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. Sure, I believe that, big brother.”

Silence reigned for a while. The chirping of the crickets was the only thing that could be heard.

“Am I a bad person for missing them so much? I love you guys, and you are the best things that have ever happened to me, but when I’m alone with my thoughts and emotions, I can’t help—I miss them but feel like I’m betraying what we have. What we found.”

Jason let his head fall on the steering wheel. The ache in his chest grew. He wanted his family to be whole again. Jason could picture it in his mind’s eye. Danny surrounded by the Waynes. Danny being spoiled by his aunts and uncles. By the Ancients, he wanted that. He wanted Danny to have cousins, aunts, and uncles.

Jason wanted his older jackass of a brother. He wanted his grandfather…He wanted his dad.

He wanted his family whole. No, his family was whole already.

What was he thinking? What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he satisfied with the family he had?

“We have a theory,” Jazz said, putting her hand on Jason’s head and giving soft scratches. It felt nice. “Danny and I think your obsession is family. Until you can have every last person you consider family surrounding you, well, you won’t feel complete.”

Jason snorted. It made sense, but Ancients, did his obsession have to be something he couldn’t have?

“So basically, my obsession is unreachable. They’ll never take me back. And if I do return, they’ll try to take Danny away from me. They’ll consider me unstable, too much of a monster to raise a child.”

Jazz said nothing. Jason raised his head and stared at the woman who had become his younger sister. Someone Jason could trust.

“I miss mom and dad sometimes, too,” Jazz whispered, “not for the people they turned out to be, but for who they once were.”

Jazz smiled bittersweetly and turned toward Jason, “Do you think me a bad person for missing them?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” was his automatic response.

“Then why don’t you give yourself that same leeway? My parents have done horrible things; they tried to kill Danny! Yet, I still miss them. Family is complicated, Jason. Emotions are even more so. Don’t blame yourself for what you’re feeling, and don’t feel like you’re betraying us because you want what you used to have. We understand.”

“You’re all too good for me.”

Jazz slapped the back of his head. Jason yelped out in surprise.

“And stop thinking you don’t deserve to be happy. You have a family, even if it’s incomplete.”

“No, you guys are enough,” Jason refuted.

Jazz smiled sadly and kissed his cheek.

“I’m going inside. Remember, don’t feel bad for your emotions, Jason. If I’m allowed to miss my old family, so are you.”

Jason said nothing. He watched Jazz enter the house, lost in his thoughts.

How nice it would be to integrate his old family with his new one, but if he tried, he would lose what he had built.

“Suck it up, Todd; you have a great family now. Forget about your old one.”

Jason turned off the car, phased through it, and returned to the house. The ache in his chest still throbbed.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. He looked out into the darkness and felt watched. There was no one there. Jason gave one more uneasy look into the forest and went inside.

____

Tim couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

Tim had a facial recognition program running 24/7. After a few weeks of the program running, he had a match.

La Petite Académie would like to thank Peter “Jay” Nightingale for his generous donation to the school. Two benches will be built in his honor.

Tim observed the picture. Jason had dyed his head red and glared at the camera as his picture was taken. He held a plaque with the school’s name, address, and Jason’s alias.

He broke into the school’s files and read about Daniel Nightingale. He had the highest marks in his class and was considered exceptionally smart. Jason had donated fifteen thousand dollars to the school and seemed to be an active participant in school activities. Jazz Nightingale was put in as an emergency contact, and he found phone numbers. Most important, though, was the address listed on the record.

Tim had a lead. His next stop would be Tadoussac, Canada.

I'm so sorry if this wasn't up to my usual standard. I needed to move the plot along. On the plus side, I know how I want the story to go and end. On the downside, I see an end, which means my time with this fic is coming to a close.

Anyway, I hope you liked

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[lynnbanks]

Jet lag and brunch

(Would like to add this before you read that y/n (ivy) has Pernicious anemia and you will probably more about it in later stories. I would also like to add I'm not completely sure what this is just wanted to get it out there if there are any mistakes let me know hope you enjoy)

Our first morning/afternoon back at the lake house and if we don't hurry we will be late to brunch with luke parents and jack

Luke is still pretty jet-lagged so he is struggling to get up. “ lukey it is time to get up,” I say while rubbing his bare back long forgotten where his shirt and pants were the second we got to our room at the lake house before crashing onto the bed taking me with him.

“Lay with me for a second please.” we don't have time but I indulge already having myself ready knowing he would likely brush his teeth put on anything he can find at the top of his unpacked suitcase with a hat and be out the door.

“ ok sleepy butt we have 20 minutes to be out the door so in five minutes you need to be up and getting ready” he dismissed me by pulling me into bed with him and onto his chest mumbling “You smell good baby” voice still deep and gravely from sleeping 10 hours straight “ hmm thank you” while I run my fingers through his unruly curls “you ready to eat” I ask in a whisper as to not disturb the calm air around us seeing as we haven’t had a lot of alone time in awhile with all the crazy schedules “mmh yes very ready” “ok then let’s get this show on the road.”

Jack meets us downstairs and we all loaded up into the car, Quinn won’t be in till next week and we will probably do a fancy dinner to celebrate all of us being together and all the boys have accomplished this year.

When we get to the restaurant we meet up with Jim and Ellen in the parking lot, before we go in give a hug to both me and Luke after not seeing us for a while, we walk in and the conversation starts flowing.

Luke has his hand running up and down my leg, with the occasional squeeze, we talk about what we want to eat and enjoy each other's company, our server comes and takes our order not without giving Jack a few long stares and some flirty giggles, while we wait for our food I scoot closer to Luke and lay my head on his shoulder while he wraps his arm around me and kisses my head

“ y/n when are you free next maybe we can go get our nails done for the start of summer” “ I am free Sunday I was also thinking of getting my hair cut and finding a new swimsuit along with the other things we will need for the house we could make a day of it” luke perks up “ you have infusions tomorrow baby you should probably take it slow; don't worry about the other stuff I've got the rest.”

Luke gave me a soft squeeze on the arm to let me know he was still there with me, and all I can think now as I look up at him and smile is I love him. The rest of lunch goes pretty well me and Ellen walk out arm and arm talking about the rest of the details for our “girls’ day”. Me and Ellen have always been very close so I am looking forward to it

when I get to my car Luke is holding the door open and before I get in he pulls me into his body and gives me a soft kiss on the lips his constant need to touch me has always been something I love about him my little luv bug; instead of pulling away fully I lay my head on his chest and look up at him “Hmm I love you” he smiled “ oh really well I am IN love with you so” I laugh “ stop being so competitive Warren”

Back at the house Luke and I decide a nap would be how we spend the rest of the afternoon, so we make our way to one of the larger hammocks we had put in last year for this exact reason.

As I lay with half of my body on top of Luke he plays with the fingers on the hand that isn't playing with his curls we talk about nothing and everything; conversation had always been so easy for us never seeming to get tired of what the other has to say.

“I have missed this with you,” Luke says softly almost like he is saying it to himself; still very tired from the time change and travel that comes with the job on top of all the physical parts of the game.

I just want to rap him up and keep him in my pocket “Well you are about to see a whole lot more of me so be prepared to get sick of me” I say with a slight chuckle “ I don't think I will ever get tired of you” he says with a smile in his voice “ glad to hear it warren”

[eksvaized]

Part Three Ghost / Reader [ Previous ︱Next ] AO3 ︱Wattpad taglist (if you want to be added - let me know!): @villainofmyownstory

After a brief, yet somewhat awkward exchange of words with the driver, you carefully hand him his fare through the small, barely open window of the taxi. The moment the coins clink into his palm, the vehicle revs to life, pulling away from the curb and vanishing into the distance.

In the back pocket of your jeans, you can feel your phone vibrating. There’s no need to pull it out and glance at the screen; Emily’s name is practically burned into your retinas. You know you are running late. But that doesn’t justify the relentless onslaught of calls and messages from your sister. It seems with every second that ticks by, another notification pops up. Yet, they do nothing to quicken your steps or hasten your pace. If anything, they make you want to slow down, maybe sit on some bench and waste another five minutes.

You still are mad at Emily, for various reasons. Her lie keeps echoing in your mind, like a broken record on a constant loop. No matter how hard you try, the memory of the conversation that both of you had yesterday refuses to fade away.

A part of you, an insistent part of you, craves for a confrontation. You yearn to corner Emily, to force her into a situation where she has no option but to justify her actions to you. You even fantasize about challenging her, about instigating a fight with her, with the sole intention of forcing her to finally reveal the truth to Simon.

Since you find yourself unable to tell him, restrained by your own selfish reasons, you come to the conclusion that if Emily were to do it, there would be no conflict of interests. You hold an unwavering belief that Simon deserves to know, and if, or rather when, Emily musters up the courage to confess and explain her side of things, you are confident that if his love for her is as true as you believe it to be, he will understand her actions. If their love is as genuine as the diamond that adorns her finger, the worst possible fallout would be a heated argument, a huge fight that will do little more than shake them momentarily—it certainly won’t stop them from walking down the aisle together.

You step into the lobby. In the distance, you spot Simon already standing next to the elevator. He is talking with someone on the phone, his fingers slowly massaging his temple as his eyebrows furrow. As you quietly approach, your steps barely making a sound against the floor, you manage to overhear Emily’s distinct voice rapidly firing words from the other end of the line. Though her exact words are muffled and indistinct, drowned out by the subtle hum of the air conditioning, her tone is clear - she is upset, and definitely annoyed. That doesn’t surprise you—Simon is late, just like you—but you feel a slight sense of relief wash over you. You’re glad that you didn’t bother answering any of Emily’s calls.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs, getting ready with Emily?” You dare to ask the moment the call ends and Simon hastily stuffs the phone into his pocket.

Caught off guard, Simon pivots on his heel to face you. At first, his expression is hardened, a mask of disbelief that someone would dare to intrude on his private conversation. But as his gaze settles on you, the hardness fades and a lazy, almost boyish smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Shouldn’t you too?” He asks, his tone light and playful as he cocks his head to the side.

Just then, the polished elevator door slides open with a soft ding, the sound echoing in the large lobby. You both step into it. Simon extends a hand to press the button for your floor, while you seek out a comfortable spot to lean against, feeling the cool chill of the wall seep through the thin fabric of your blouse.

Almost instantly, as soon as the elevator doors shut behind you, you notice the lack of air conditioning within this confined space; it’s slightly warmer inside the elevator than it was while you were waiting for it. Yet you can’t shake off the nagging thought that perhaps the sudden rise in temperature has more to do with the close proximity between you and Simon than the absence of fresh air.

He’s standing so unbearably close to you, his presence nearly overwhelming. Your fingertips hover near each other’s, like two magnets at the brink of connection, a near-contact that sends your heart into a wild, fluttering frenzy. A blush creeps into your cheeks. The heat spreads across your skin in an unmistakable wave of embarrassment. You attempt to dismiss this blush as a mere physical reaction to the stuffy air. It’s desperate and somewhat pitiful attempt to avoid acknowledging the electrifying tension that’s slowly but surely building up between the two of you in this cramped space.

Simon, for his part, does nothing to alleviate the palpable tension that hangs heavy in the air. On the contrary, he keeps stealing furtive glances at you, his gaze flickering in your direction every now and then. His brown eyes are glinting with something mysterious, something inscrutable, something you can’t quite decipher.

You have seen the cryptic expression that adorns his face now. It’s an expression that was etched on his face the first time you caught a glimpse of him, sitting alone in the dimly lit corner of a bar, his piercing gaze fixed firmly on you. He was leaning against the counter, nursing his drink with a kind of calculated, unhurried ease that was not only captivating but also intriguing. The amber liquid would swirl gently in the glass each time he lifted it to his lips.

“You know, I’m still hoping to come up with a good enough excuse to avoid going,” you admit, letting out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. Perhaps, you think, if you start talking, you will distract yourself. Maybe then you can stop your thoughts from constantly circling back to the subtle curve of Simon’s lips, or his futile attempt to disguise his amused smirk by clenching his jaw.

Simon shakes his head slightly. “Don’t think you’re going to think of anything that’s gonna work,” he says, his eyes sliding down your figure, lingering on your curves for a moment longer than necessary before his gaze shifts to the bag you’re clutching in your hands. “Shopping?”

You nod. A smile flashes across your lips. “Didn’t have a nice dress to wear, so had to go out and buy a new one,” you say, not really wanting to think about the money you spent on some silly dress that you will probably wear for one evening only, for a single dinner at some overpriced restaurant, before it will be relegated to the far corners of your closet and forgotten.

Simon’s tone is soft when he speaks. “I’m sure you will...” he begins, but his voice trails off into silence. His eyes, though, they hold you captive, their intensity making it impossible to look away. As the pause stretches into an endless moment, a pang of disappointment wells up within your chest. It’s clear that he’s holding back, refraining from expressing the thoughts that are so obviously teetering on the tip of his tongue.

At last, he manages to find his voice again. “I’m sure the dress you bought is lovely,” he exhales; the words are barely out of his mouth before he quickly averts his gaze towards the opening elevator doors.

Upon your and Simon’s rather ungraceful entry through the front door—where you tripped over the threshold, and he made a joke about it—both of you are still caught up in fits of hushed giggles, which only get louder when you mention Emily, and that she’s probably on the verge of ripping her hair out because she hates being late (although, Simon says, and you agree, there’s no need to rush since Johnny won’t mind waiting); the discomfort that was previously palpable in the elevator has been entirely forgotten by now.

As if on cue, as if the mere mention of her name had summoned her, your sister appears. Emily steps into view, her silhouette emerging from the living room as she strides towards the hallway. She then halts abruptly, planting her hands on her hips. Her lips purse into a thin, straight line after she dramatically rolls her eyes.

Emily pauses for a moment. Her gaze sweeps over you and Simon—her eyes dart back and forth, as if wrestling with the decision of who to unleash her annoyance upon. The sarcasm dripping from her voice is clear when she finally shatters the silence. “Finally. Was is too hard to pick up your phone?” She directs her question at you, but you see no reason to answer; the icy undertone in her voice signals that she isn’t really expecting a reply.

Then, without missing a beat, she swivels her head towards Simon, her gaze as piercing as a dagger. Simon, finding himself on the receiving end of her stare, offers her an apologetic smile. He makes the wise decision to remain silent, following your lead, fully aware that it’s better to let Emily vent her frustrations out than to engage in a fruitless argument.

Relief washes over you like a tide when Emily’s attention shifts to Simon. This sudden change in her focus creates a diversion, a brief but valuable window of opportunity that you seize with both hands to slip past her. However, as you start walking away, you can’t resist the urge to steal one last, lingering glance at Simon. His eyes, brimming with an unreadable emotion, flicker between Emily and you.

With stealthy steps, you make your way into your room. Thankfully, you have half-a-brain to lock the door behind you, too. Because exactly three minutes later, Emily attempts to barge in. The echo of her fists pounding against the sturdy wood fills your room, and her voice escalates slightly as she announces, “We leave in fifteen minutes.”

Responding with a nonchalant “Yeah, yeah, fine,” you begin to undress. Starting with your blouse, you unbutton it. The soft fabric cascades off your shoulders and flutters to the floor as you shimmy out of your jeans, letting them pool around your ankles before you kick them to the side. “I’ll be dressed in five,” you add, your tone filled with a certain leisureliness that suggests you are in no rush whatsoever. Yet your words are enough to make Emily mumble something inaudible under her breath and leave you alone for a bit.

As you gingerly take the neatly folded dress out of the bag, Emily’s words from yesterday’s conversation in the car flash in your mind. You know she wants you and Johnny to be a cohesive, visually pleasing pair for the wedding. In fact, she’s so invested in maintaining the aesthetic of the event that she would even go as far as replacing Simon as the best-man if he doesn’t meet her standards. This leads you to a curious question that starts circling in your head: If what Simon has been saying about his friend has any grain of truth, and Johnny is indeed as handsome as he claims, would Emily go to the extreme of replacing you instead?

Your fingers twitch with the temptation to shrug off the formal wear and opt for another pair of comfortable jeans and a simple shirt. You yearn to test out this theory, especially given your dwindling enthusiasm for the upcoming nuptial event—you wouldn’t mind to be replaced and watching everything from the sidelines. However, the prospect of enduring Emily’s likely tirade about your outfit choice, not to mention the potential for a heated argument, makes you pause.

With a resigned sigh, you decide to avoid the imminent conflict, at least for the moment. You tear off the price tag, throwing the piece of paper on the mattress, and slip into the little black dress you had bought for the occasion. The fabric hugs your body, but it’s not too tight. Then, you grab your brush and begin to work through your locks, smoothing out any knots and giving it a quick, but thorough, brush through. You even take a few extra minutes to apply a touch of mascara and a shiny lip gloss.

Stepping out of the room, you are greeted by the sight of Simon and Emily, who are already waiting for you. Emily is dressed in a tight pink dress that showcases her cleavage. Around her neck, she wears a beautiful pearl necklace, and her ears are adorned with matching pearl earrings that sway like pendulums with her movements. It’s clear that Emily has devoted considerable time and effort to her appearance, evident in the meticulously applied makeup and the way her hair has been styled with painstaking precision.

Your gaze then shifts to Simon, and to your surprise, you discover he had been drinking in your appearance all along, like a parched man finding an oasis. You quickly avert your gaze and instead focus on the details of his outfit - a tailored black suit that fits him immaculately. The top two buttons of his shirt are casually undone, revealing a hint of his collarbone. As your eyes wander further, you also notice the watch adorning his wrist. It’s a gift from Emily; she bought the watch for him on their unofficial three-month anniversary, not with her money, of course—she had Simon’s card.

“You look nice,” Emily says, her lips curling into a smile. As she subtly shifts her hips, it becomes abundantly clear that she’s fishing for a compliment in return. You really don’t feel like saying anything, but at the same time, you don’t want to act strangely, either. If you do, it would only lead to both of you having to explain to Simon why the heated argument you had yesterday is still a lingering issue.

You swallow, you can’t ignore her. So, after a moment of tense silence, you force your lips to curl upwards into a smile. “You as well, Em.”

Upon entering the elegant restaurant, you trail behind Simon and Emily, drifting like a shadow behind them. They walk a few steps ahead, their hands intertwined. The three of you are looking around—Emily and Simon are searching for Johnny, while you are simply taking in the grandeur of your surroundings.

You can’t help but feel like a fish out of water in this restaurant, with its refined ambiance and clientele that resemble a gallery of polished statues. It’s not a place you would typically find yourself. The soft melody of classical music wafts through the air, further enhancing the refined atmosphere. The waiters, all impeccably dressed in crisp uniforms, skillfully weave their way through the tables that are generously spaced, draped in spotless white tablecloths, and adorned with flickering candles that emit a warm glow.

“Over there,” Simon declares with a pointed finger, his voice just a notch above a whisper, before his arm falls back to his side. “I see him,” he adds, his gaze locked on a figure in the distance. After he glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours, ensuring that you’re still following closely behind, he starts leading you and Emily towards a secluded table. It’s tucked away in a quiet corner of the room, away from the lively chatter and clinking of glasses.

When you approach the table, Emily is the first to be introduced. You find yourself momentarily relegated to the sidelines, silently observing as your sister carefully assesses Simon’s friend with a gaze as sharp as a hawk’s. This prompts an involuntary eye roll from you. Then, the spotlight shifts to you. Simon’s hand gently brushes against your shoulder and he ushers you forward. The unexpected warmth of his palm sends a shiver down your spine, causing your knees to tremble. However, the moment, as electrifying as it was, proves to be fleeting.

Simon’s friend extends his hand towards you. “Johnny,” he introduces himself, his voice smooth and confident; there’s even a slight hint of an accent you can’t quite place yet. He steps closer and lifts your fingers to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. This unexpected gesture catches you off guard, making you feel as if you’re in some old movie. You giggle, and Johnny lightly strokes the top of your hand with his thumb, eliciting another chuckle to escape from you.

“Y/N,” you say, your lips curving up into a wide smile that lights up your face. The corners of Johnny’s mouth lift in a matching grin. His eyes begin a slow journey across your form. His gaze descends at a leisurely pace, drinking in every detail, lingering a bit too long on the expanse of your legs. However, you choose to let it pass without comment. After all, you find a strange, exhilarating sense of satisfaction in his undivided attention, knowing that you are his sole focus at this moment.

As Simon pulls out Emily’s chair, he takes a second to cast his eyes over towards you and Johnny. Simon’s gaze is unwavering and steady, the pupils of his eyes dilating as they observe the interaction that unfolds between you and his friend. He takes note of every minute detail, every micro-expression that flits across your faces.

Simon notices the upward curve of Johnny’s lips, a sly grin adorning his face with each flirtatious remark he tosses your way. He observes your reactions to Johnny’s advances, meeting his jests with a smile that crinkles your eyes at the corners. The gentle batting of your eyelashes is not lost on Simon, either.

When you happen to glance at Simon, you notice a dramatic change in his demeanor. His eyes darken noticeably, a shadow casting over them as they fill with an unreadable emotion. This noticeable shift in his mood, this palpable change in the atmosphere around him, becomes even more pronounced after you subtly lean into Johnny and whisper something into his ear.

Neither you nor Johnny make a move to take your seats. And it’s not until Simon clears his throat, a sound that cuts through the bubble surrounding you and Johnny like a sharp blade, that you both return to reality. Simon tilts his head slightly, a casual yet deliberate gesture indicating the table. His silent command for Johnny and you to take a seat is clear, even without words.

The dinner is nice. In the beginning, the conversation is slow, and, to be honest, quite monotonous. There’s a certain awkwardness that permeates the air, acting as a silent, invisible barrier as everyone around the table makes polite attempts to conjure up interesting subjects to discuss. But at some point, just before the food is served, Emily takes the reins and starts dominating the conversation.

Emily gushes about her and Simon’s upcoming wedding. Each sentence she utters is punctuated with a bubbly giggle or an excited clap. Eager to share her meticulous planning, she divulges even the most minute and seemingly trivial details to Johnny. She talks about the venue, the guest list, the dress, the music. However, she seems most excited about the details she’s put the most thought into. This includes everything from the exact shade of her bridal bouquet—a perfect blend of pastel hues that would complement her dress and the overall theme of the wedding—to the intricate flavor profile of the wedding cake she wishes to have.

It’s obvious that Emily is determined to bring Johnny up to speed. However, you think, that perhaps she should slow down, so as not to overwhelm Johnny with the extensive details that he, quite frankly, probably doesn’t really care about. In your mind, it’s entirely plausible and you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if, after having to endure a dinner with your sister, Johnny would decide to withdraw from wedding because Emily’s intense excitement is overwhelming, and a bit much to handle. Especially for someone who may not be accustomed to such a high energy level.

Surprisingly, though, Johnny rises to the occasion. He displays an admirable level of patience. You could never spend such a long time pretending to be interested in a conversation that does not particularly pique your interest. Yet he remains attentive and keeps up with Emily’s pace. He continues listening to her every word, even when you and Simon stop paying attention.

As the evening progresses, an array of sweet treats and decadent desserts replace the remnants of the main course. Seeing as Emily doesn’t make an effort to get to know Johnny, you step in. And thankfully, Emily finally takes the hint and stops pestering Johnny about the wedding, allowing you to capture his attention.

Johnny is undeniably a shameless flirt. His flirty remarks and comments not only seem to flow from his lips without a hint of hesitation, but also with a confidence that is impossible to ignore. Each compliment he showers you with is more charming than the last. But you don’t mind that. Not in the least, not even when they start getting a bit lewd. In fact, you find yourself drawn into his charismatic aura, and sometimes respond with your own playful banter and risque jokes.

For a while, the world seems to shrink down to just you and him, the rest of the restaurant becoming a mere backdrop to your conversation. You and Johnny become so engrossed in each other that you almost forget about Emily and Simon, who sit across the table, watching and listening to the two of you talk.

However, the lively atmosphere takes a slight turn when Johnny, in a playful tone, points out that Emily is not partaking in the drinking. He asks her, his voice tinged with a hint of genuine and innocent curiosity, if she holds any kind of aversion to the particular wine being served—perhaps she has a preference for white over the robust red that’s being passed around.

As the spotlight unexpectedly shifts onto Emily, you watch as her composed expression gradually changes. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, the redness visible even beneath her foundation. Despite her lips parting to muster a response, no words manage to find their way out. She appears taken aback, blindsided by Johnny’s unexpected attention, and unsure how to react to his sudden inquiry.

This situation, while uncomfortable for Emily, is somewhat amusing to you. You find yourself silently observing the spectacle, and your enjoyment only interrupted when Simon decides to intervene and redirect the conversation.

“She’s on some silly diet,” Simon interjects, making Johnny’s eyebrows arch. After a brief pause, Simon adds that it has something to do with Emily wanting to fit into her wedding dress.

Johnny, much to your disappointment, accepts this far-fetched explanation. As the conversation resumes its normal flow, Johnny turns to you. With a smirk playing on his lips, he says, “Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” Raising his drink, he adds, “It means there will be more left for us.”

You respond with a nod, an amused smile on your lips. You clink your wine glass against his. Together, you both take a generous sip of the expensive wine, its rich flavor momentarily distracting you from the lingering awkwardness that yet has to vanish.

You are savoring the sweetness of a juicy strawberry, a garnish that adorned one of the lavishly presented desserts, when Johnny leans in closer. His warm breath causes a ticklish sensation that dances across your neck and leaves you breathless and flustered. Drawing closer still, he whispers softly into your ear. “I must admit, I was dreading the wedding somewhat—I hate wearing suits,” he confesses, his tone light and teasing. But then his voice drops lower and becomes intimate. “But now that I know I’ll get to spend a day with you by my side, the day can’t come soon enough.”

A sudden rush of warmth floods your cheeks, leaving you blushing, caught off guard by his words. However, you manage to regain your composure and steer the conversation away from the topic of the wedding. Part of your underlying motivation for this diversion is to prevent Emily, who has a habit of eavesdropping, from overhearing and launching into another one of her lengthy, detailed monologues about the countless challenges she faced while choosing a suitable wedding venue. Yet, your main motivation is your eagerness to hear the many captivating stories Johnny has to share about him and Simon.

Simon, for his part, appears less than thrilled about Johnny’s inability to maintain discretion regarding their shared escapades. Despite the subtle hints Simon continues to drop about toning down the conversation and maintaining a certain level of decorum, Johnny cheerfully disregards them, showing no signs of self-restraint. Even Emily seems to grow increasingly vexed by the two of you. It eventually becomes apparent that she’s not at all pleased with the attention moving away from her.

“You are being rude,” Emily says after she drags you into the restroom with her.

“I’m not,” you reply, staring at your reflection in the large mirror hanging on the wall. The lack of fresh air—and definitely not Johnny’s attention or the flood of compliments—has caused your cheeks to flush a rosy hue that doesn’t seem to be vanishing. Your hair is slightly disheveled, too, an aftermath of your restless hands constantly running through it.

“You’re acting as if you and Johnny are the only people at the table,” Emily accuses, her fingers wrapping around your wrist. With a firm tug, she forces you to meet her gaze. “You’re constantly whispering and sharing jokes. It’s becoming annoying. Even Simon is starting to feel uncomfortable.” Her grip tightens. “You need to tone it down.”

“I was under the impression that you wanted Johnny and me to get along. After all, you’ve already approved of him, right?” you counter, shaking off her hand away. “Or is this sudden dispute because you’re considering replacing him and you’re worried I’m wasting my time getting to know someone who might not even be a part of the wedding?”

“And slow down on the drinks,” Emily continues, ignoring your last comment as though it didn’t reach her ears.

“Jealous that you can’t drink because of your fake pregnancy, Em?” The words slip out before you can stop them, your tone steeped in sarcasm. You had been avoiding Emily all morning, not wanting to engage in an argument, but now that she’s cornered you in the restroom, the restraint you’ve been exercising all day is starting to wane.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting so bitchy?” Emily snaps back, her face twisting into a grimace. “Stop it, or if you can’t, then perhaps it’s best if you leave.”

You press your lips into a thin line. An uncomfortable silence fills the space. There’s a long, tense pause before you finally respond. “Fine, I’m going. I’ll let you come up with another lie about why I left. You seem to have a knack for those.”

Emily tries to stop you—clearly, she didn’t expect this reaction—but you are faster. Before she can say anything or ensnare your arm in her grip again, you slip out of the restroom and head straight for the exit.

Venturing further from the entrance - far enough to avoid obstructing the flow of patrons - your arms coil around your waist. You try to shield your body from the icy wind because the cold is seeping in through the fabric of your dress, penetrating your skin and chilling your bones. But the feeble heat generated from your frantic self-embrace barely makes a difference. You start shivering. If you weren’t so consumed by anger and frustration, you’re fairly certain that by now, you would be crying. But your anger, a raging inferno that burns in the pit of your stomach, refuses to allow you to shed even a single tear.

When you made the impulsive decision to leave, to let Emily deal with her own bullshit, you hadn’t fully considered the ripple effect of your choices. In your hasty exit, you left your belongings at the table. Now, without your phone or purse, you’re stuck in an awkward situation without an easy way to call a taxi. And even if you could flag one down, you don’t have any money to pay for it. The heels that seemed like a good choice earlier are now a source of throbbing pain in your feet, too. Your toes are uncomfortably squished, and the mere thought of the long walk home that awaits you is enough to make you feel nauseous.

From the corner of your eye, you glance back at the softly lit restaurant that you just stormed out of. As the cold night air swirls around you, regret begins to seep in, like a slow-acting poison in your veins. You should go back, pretend that you just needed some fresh air and hope that Emily hasn’t let slip a word about the argument yet. But your stubborn pride holds you in its unyielding grip, rooting you into the cold concrete. You refuse to give Emily the satisfaction of winning this fight. Not this time.

Thankfully, just as you start to walk, each step a wobbly battle against the discomfort of your towering heels and the slight dizziness that has begun to cloud your senses, a familiar voice cuts through the night’s air and calls out to you. Johnny. Hearing your name, you pause in your tracks. He hastens up his pace. When he catches up to you, he says how Emily told him and Simon that you aren’t feeling well.

“Let me take you home,” Johnny offers.

You shake your head, shifting from foot to foot in an effort to keep your balance—standing still proves unexpectedly difficult. “No, you really should stay. Emily has been looking forward to meeting you, and I’m sure Simon would hate to see you leave, and… and I can just walk,” you say, and a feeble smile crosses your lips. Just because your sister ruined the evening for you, you don’t want to do the same to Johnny.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he insists. “It’s late and cold, and I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk home alone.” His eyes catch a small tremor of cold racing across your body - a slight shiver that you couldn’t suppress. Swiftly, almost as if it were an instinctive response, he removes his jacket. The material is warm from his body heat and he drapes it over your shoulders. “I’ll drive you,” he adds and starts absentmindedly playing with his car keys, twirling them around his index finger.

“But you can’t,” you remind him, “you’ve been drinking.” He responds with a nonchalant smile, the kind that suggests he won’t back down or leave you alone.

“Just a couple of glasses,” Johnny assures you. Noticing your hesitation, realizing you might need a bit more convincing, he quickly adds, “But if you’d rather walk, we can do that.”

You bite your lower lip, drawing it between your teeth as you gnaw gently on the tender flesh. Deep down, you know what the safe, sensible choice should be. However, you don’t pick it. “Alright, fine,” you finally relent, letting out a soft sigh. “But only if you promise not to speed.”

The ride is quite pleasant as the car glides smoothly down the road. Johnny doesn’t speed at all; he mostly keeps his eyes on the road and his hands securely on the wheel. The conversation between the two of you is sparse, yet the silence that ensues is far from uncomfortable or awkward.

At one point, Johnny punctures the quiet to inquire if you’re still feeling cold. Yet he doesn’t wait for an answer and simply turns on the heat. Almost instantly, the warmth envelops you, and Johnny’s jacket acts as a blanket that you wrap tighter around your shoulders. As the car continues to hum, you feel your eyelids growing heavy. You sink deeper into the plush seat, fighting a losing battle against the urge to give in to the sleepiness. Sensing your struggle to stay awake, Johnny decides to fill the silence with some chatter, filling the car with the sound of his voice.

“You know, I never thought I would see the day that Simon will be getting married,” he says. His words catch your attention, causing you to turn your gaze towards him. However, you decide not to say anything, which he takes as a cue to continue his train of thought. “I always kind of expected that I’d beat him to the altar. But until recently, I hadn’t had much luck with the ladies.” He adds the last bit while looking at you.

A smile blossoms on your face. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Not wanting Johnny to see you flustered, you quickly divert his attention by saying, “Eyes on the road.”

“Aye,” he chuckles in response, a sound that tickles your heart and makes you giggle as well. He obliges your command, turning his head away from you and once again refocusing his attention on the winding road that lies ahead. “Do you want to know my first question was when Simon called me and told me about the wedding?”

“Something inappropriate?” you tease, causing him to roll his eyes in mock exasperation.

“No, but my second question was. I jokingly asked if the reason behind his sudden decision to propose was because he had gotten Emily pregnant.” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, but the corners of your lips fall at the revelation. His smile, too, begins to fade. “Yeah, Simon didn’t think it was funny, either.”

[garglyswoof]

Fragile Things

ao3 For @kastleexchange Come What May Day 1, "What Could Be" The first thing they say to each other in Daredevil: Born Again. Please note i have no clue what canon is anymore, except (hopefully) in terms of characterization. She knows it can’t last, like it’s a truce the world has temporarily granted, fragile and held together by the most tenuous of things. A house of cards, really, and she eyes it warily, even as Matt’s let down his own guard now that Fisk isn’t around. No one has stepped up to the plate to organize criminal activity on the scale Fisk had managed, his empire ran haphazardly by lesser minds, as lesser threats.

So yes, Matt has let them in more, her and Foggy, now that his nightly excursions seem almost too easy. Not that they don’t leave him bruised and battered, but he seems less afraid of pulling his friends in when there’s not a criminal mastermind behind them, just poor attempts at the throne.

Still, she‘s tense that whole spring, into summer, then the fall, waiting and watching that house of cards. The Jack of Hearts looks a little bit like Foggy, who’d grown a goatee and then shaved it off in favor of just a mustache despite Karen needling him mercilessly for it.

“Karen, I’m going through my eras of TV Hunk. We’re in the Tom Selleck phase, do you know how many women swooned over his mustache? I will not be bound by societal changes.”

“Does Marcy like it?”

He glances sidelong at her, pauses then lets out a defeated sigh. “Yes, or you know it would be gone in 30 seconds.”

“Ok I’ll work on her. Every time you come into the office I picture you sliding across the hood of a 70s muscle car like you’re in Magnum P.I. and I can’t take you seriously.”

“Reminds me of that time when Fr--” Foggy stops himself, but she knows.

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze then leave it. “Yeah it does.”

It would be a lie to say she didn’t think about Frank, but Murdock, Nelson and Page had been a good distraction this last year. Setting up the firm, finding a new office in the Kitchen, and just playing serious legal catch-up to the two avocados at law were enough to keep thoughts of him to a dull roar (she’d bought them little namesakes, glass-blown ones with painted-on sunglasses and a mustache, from a stall at one of those weekend art festivals that were always popping up around the city).

Still, at night when she tosses her keys on the side table and the lonely weight of her quiet apartment settles into her bones, she thinks of him. Of how he couldn’t look at her in that damned hospital room, eyes darting, of how he pushed her away with his own stubborn, selfish aims. Yeah. Yeah, she’ll have a lot to say to him, if she could. 

But he’s been gone this past year, or maybe just terrorizing some other part of the country’s criminal organizations. Like she’d thought earlier, New York was missing some of its seedy underbelly these days. It’s why it worked, this house of cards.

It comes crashing down that Thursday night. 

It had been a good day, Matt heading into court in the afternoon, Foggy finally breaking the industrious quiet by announcing he’s always wanted a putting green in his office. 

Somehow that has evolved into a three-hole miniature golf course where the final hole is a ramp to Foggy’s blown-up face from an old political poster with the mouth cut out. Karen’s sides hurt from laughing as the city settles into the dark of evening. 

“Wow, you really suck at this,” Foggy laughs.

“I did not know I needed to practice -” she bursts into giggles -”putting a ball - oh god - p-putting a ball into your m-mouth”.

Foggy loses it too until a text buzzes both their phones. They both sober up from the laughter, each thinking the same thought as they reach for their mobiles. Matt’s been gone too long.

Sure enough, it’s a text from him, and Karen’s heart sinks from the vagueness of it.

Won’t be able to make it out tonight. You two have fun and see you in the a.m.

She looks up to see Foggy’s expression as he studies the words on the screen like an Ancient Text, the backlight and the now dim light in the office lending him a haggard expression. It's the first time she’s seen it in a year.

“He’ll be okay, Fogs.” She isn’t sure she believes it, but she says it anyway. She doesn’t think he believes it either, but he smiles all the same. She marvels, not for the first time, at how trauma is a form of time travel. Because despite the progress of this past year, her and Foggy both remember Matt, before, and they are right back there again in an instant.

Foggy’s expression almost breaks her heart as he nods and takes an absentminded last putt, the ball rolling up the braille legal book ramp and straight into the picture’s mouth.

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

Karen hasn’t changed a bit, despite all that’s happened, and she knows this is a bad idea but can’t stop herself all the same. She’d said goodbye to Foggy at the office doorway, mumbling something about cleaning up the casserole dish from one of their recent sliding scale (if you could call it that) clients. Foggy had been on the phone with Marcy, but had paused - Karen’s heart aching with the kindness of him - for a moment, holding his hand over the speaker.

“You sure?” He'd mouthed before speaking in a whisper. “This isn’t about Matt, right?”

She’d shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t going to lie about that, at least. “Maybe it is, but it’s okay. I just want to have some time to think, and scrubbing cheese off this casserole dish will sadly give me time.”

He’d left then, with one worried glance backwards. She’ll have to keep an eye on her phone tonight, she’s willing to bet he’ll at least text to check in on her. 

It had been the silences from Matt that had scared them the most. She isn’t doing that to Foggy.

Still, she’s pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of her rifling through Matt’s files, her notes, and the Bulletin trying to triangulate where the hell Daredevil is off to tonight. She figures it out when she sees the line in the local crime beat from last week, from a paper she hadn’t yet let herself start reading again until now. 

Ex-FBI Officer Charged with Death of Priest, FBI Officer Escapes From Prison

She drops the paper and scrambles to her desk, pulling out the drawer that holds her purse, shaking, and grabs her gun, her breath ragged in the quiet of the office, the gun almost sucking the light out of the room, matte black. She stares at it for a moment before raising it in both hands, her feet unconsciously shifting apart to ground her. She feels the trigger under her finger, safety still on, she knows, and she presses the trigger once, twice, three times, over and over until her face crumples and she slides to the floor. 

She doesn’t give herself much time to let the pain rule her, she never does. If Bullseye is back, then that’s what Matt is looking into, and she knows he’ll need help despite not wanting it. Not to mention she has a score to settle with that psycho. Her hand shakes as she locks the office up until she stares at her fingers, willing them to calmness.

The church still looms taller than her faith, which isn’t hard to manage, she thinks wryly. The night holds an early fall chill, a breeze off the river teasing the hairs at the nape of her neck where her hair is pulled into a low ponytail. Quiet rules the street with the church lit gently by low exterior lights as she eyes the windows and tries not to think about the past. She’s almost about to give up, thinking that she’s guessed wrong, when she sees the heavy front door shift. A figure darts through, too broad-shouldered to be Matt, she thinks, then the door shuts without a noise and she’s staring into a face lit lowly for just a second before the man ducks into the shadows. 

Frank. She’s frozen there, on the sidewalk, and she knows it’s the stupidest thing for her to do so she darts off the path onto the grass that edges the church’s lot. She’s not sure if he’s seen her, and can’t spot him anymore in the darkness, and she has a moment to think - god how on earth did he just disappear like that? before he’s in front of her, finger to his lips at her impending shriek of surprise, his face familiarly blood-spattered and sporting an almost goofy grin. It doesn’t make sense, any of it, and she stares at him in confusion as he tugs her hands into his, holding her out like he wants to look at her, take stock, that grin lowering like a sail as his eyes grow more intense and how can he be so casual and what is going on and -

“Ma’am,” he says, his tone teasing. 

She relaxes, because there can’t be any danger here if he’s acting like that, but then tensing back up because honestly, what the hell? 

He must see it in her face because he rumbles an apology. ��M’sorry. Just…seeing you like that, reminded me of…” he trails off, dropping her hands to tug at his hood in mimicry of his beggar routine. That happened forever ago, but he still remembers. So does she. “And you’re still all heart, I don’t even need to ask.” 

Something about the way he says it, almost proprietarily, pisses her off. Her eyes flash in the shadows they’ve found themselves in, pulling deeper in as a car passes and breaks the silence with loud, low bass.  “Yeah, Frank? What clued you in there?” 

She wants him to say it. Doesn’t want to have to spell it out.

His head punches back slightly, taking the blow. He changes the subject, or maybe it’s still the same one. “I came back as soon as I heard. The church’s been clean so far, surprised though. Guy like that usually wants to win where he lost.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Karen admits. “So what’s with the blood?”

He touches his face, as if reminding himself. “Research.” 

She almost laughs. 

“Where’s Red?” He rasps out.

“This was me trying to find him,” she says and watches his face soften out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, Karen.”

She waits, staring down at where the grass, wet from the day’s watering, sticks to her sneakers.

He clears his throat. “I wasn’t there for you when he came after you the first time. Fuckin' killed me to hear about it. Killed me to know you were hurt and scared and I wasn’t around to help.”

He’s not saying the right things, but they’re still good ones. She smiles a timid smile, glances up and lets him give her what he can. She’s got a year of therapy on one Frank Castle under her belt.  “It’s okay, Frank.”

She knows he wants to say more, say something about the hospital. She pulls him in for a hug, kisses his cheek in a spot bare of blood. Maybe she’s the one that isn’t ready this time. 

“It’s okay.”

She feels his lips on her neck, a brief chapped kiss, before he pulls back and stares into her eyes like he’s trying to solve her mystery.

“I just want to find Matt, Frank. Make sure he’s okay.” 

Maybe he hears it in her voice, the unspoken later, maybe he just senses the urgency.

“Alright then, let’s go.” He grabs her hand again, pulls his hood up with another. She’s so in shock that she doesn’t move until he starts tugging. He looks back at her, casually throws back, “You’re going to do it anyway. At least I can keep an eye on you this way.”

It both pisses her off and makes her smile. Her feelings are never black and white for Frank Castle, but it definitely seems like he’s accepted some things about her, at least. She squeezes his hand that dwarfs her own, callused and warm, and follows him away from the church, into the heart of the city.