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flemingsfreckles · 2 days

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Physio’s Daughter Pt 7

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the other 6 parts here!

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, angst, verbal arguments, verbal insults

WC: 5.0k

A/N: I got nothing to say, we should be on the downhill from the angst for now

“I missed that penalty because of you, it’s your fault.”

You hear her say as you walk away. Her words freeze you mid step.

Your heart sank. You had tried your best to leave her alone, you had barely spoken to her outside of the training room or on the pitch, besides the phone call where she hung up on you. You had done everything to just be a regular staff member to her. And despite your efforts you had fucked this up.

“What?” You turn back to look at Jessie.

“When I kick a penalty, I pick my spot and then when I step back I think of something that calms me. Sometimes it’s my sister, sometimes my parents, sometimes it’s the beach, it’s whatever comes into my head first.” She stands up from the table, starting to walk toward you. “Today, your stupid beautiful face came into my mind and for a second it was good. For a second, the thought of you calmed me. But then her stupid face came into my mind too and all I could picture was the two of you together, on your stupid little dates in the city, how I should be your personal photographer, not her! And I thought about the fact that you’re sharing a room and you were sleeping in her fucking bed the other day, and it pissed me off and I got rattled and fucked up my penalty.”

You realize now, that’s why Jessie had left her eyes closed longer than usual, that’s why her penalty routine was different, it was your fault.

“You mean Olivia?” You say with a small laugh, there was no way Jessie was being serious and no way she actually believed there was something going on between you and Olivia. You were also laughing out of nerves, you had never seen Jessie angry like this, her face turning red as she stood in front of you.

“Yeah her. Unless there’s other girls you’ve been prancing around the city with?” She crosses her arms across her chest, clearly annoyed with you.

“Oh you’re serious?” You look at her and she just looks back at you, her stare cold. “Jessie, Olivia and I, we’re not together.”

“That’s not what it looked like, her following you around with her camera, all the photos of you she’s posting on Instagram, looks like more than friends to me. She had you half naked in her bed, you can’t tell me your just friends.”

You can’t believe the words coming from Jessie’s mouth. “I wasn’t half naked! Get a grip Jessie, she has a boyfriend!”

You had learned that Olivia had a boyfriend when you spent the day together a few days ago. It was something that had yet to come up in your previous conversations. They’d been together just under a year, he was her first long term relationship after she had broken up with her girlfriend

You weren’t surprised someone like her was taken, but what surprised you was that it didn’t make you sad or disappointed like you thought it would. You had the realization while out with her that, while she was attractive and your type, you didn’t find yourself interested in Olivia in a romantic way.

“Well, does her boyfriend know she’s obsessed with you?”

“Oh my god, you’re being delusional.” While maybe not the best word to use, it’s what comes out of your mouth in the heat of the moment.

Jessie’s eyes squinted, her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you fucking call me delusional!” Her hand comes out from her chest, she points a finger at you.

“Well that’s what you’re being Jessie! She’s in a relationship, there’s nothing between us!” You had no idea how else to explain to Jessie that there was nothing there. Olivia was a friend.

“You know what, maybe I am delusional for thinking maybe we could’ve worked!” She turns back to the table, snatching the tablet still playing her kick, storming out of the conference room.

“Jessie.” You follow her out into the hallway.

“No, we can’t keep doing this, the back and forth, it’s exhausting and childish, you need to stop.” She turns back to you, taking a step closer to you so you’re between her and the wall.

“Don’t fucking tell me that I need to stop. Jessie I’m not the only one making the decision on what’s happening here.” You take a step away from her, your back making contact with the wall behind you. “You’re the one who keeps kissing me and bringing me coffee, and texting me about non-work things. You’re just as much feeding into this, you’re just as guilty as I am!”

You were fully aware a member of the hotel staff was likely to come down the hall any minute to tell you to keep it down. It was 2:49 in the morning and you two were screaming at each other.

“I know, and that’s my fault, I should’ve realized you weren’t worth my time!”

It’s like she had punched you in the gut. Your chest started to feel tight, your eyes burning. Her words hurt. You could handle her shoving you after the game, you could handle her yelling at you, you could handle her accusing you of being interested with someone else even though you weren’t, those weren’t personal attacks. But her standing here, telling you that you weren’t worth her time, burned inside your chest.

You could see the moment Jessie realized what words came out of her mouth. A wave of guilt and shock washed over her face her fingers come up to her lips. She puts her hands out, reaching toward your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean-” she starts to backtrack, trying to take back the fact that she just called you a waste of time.

“Save it.” This time it’s you shoving Jessie out of your way, your hand against her shoulder as you push past her. “I’ll go. Sorry I was a waste of your time.” You manage to choke out before you turn, tears starting to fall from your eyes.

You run back to your room, not caring how loud your footsteps were as you rushed to your room. You hear Jessie yell after you but ignore her pleas for you to come back and let her explain. You quietly open the door and slip into your bed. You choke back your tears, burying your face into the fluffy hotel pillow to not wake up Olivia.

You’re not sure how long you cried, there’s a soft knock at your door but knowing it’s Jessie you ignore it, you didn’t want to see her and you didn’t want her seeing that you were crying over her. You fall asleep a little bit later.

You’re woken from your brief attempt at sleep by a hard knocking on your door. You look over to see Olivia is already out of bed for the morning, probably down at breakfast, maybe she forgot her key and was coming back.

You quickly check your phone, a few emails, three missed calls and a few texts, five from last night and one from this morning.

Jessie Fleming: I am so sorry

Jessie Fleming: please open the door

Jessie Fleming: I shouldn’t have said that

Jessie Fleming: You’re not a waste of my time, you’re worth all my time.

Jessie Fleming: You deserve better

The one from this morning was only from a few minutes ago.

Jessie Fleming: I’d like to talk when you have a chance. I can be available whenever. I’m really sorry.

Still half asleep you wander over to the door, expecting to see an apologetic Canadian when the second round of knocks comes more aggressively. You open it, only to be pushed out of the way by a very angry Canadian, Janine.

“I told you, if you hurt her, we were going to have problems, so now we have problems.”

It takes you a second looking at the woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she stares back at you. She was talking about Jessie. You blink a few times at her, trying to wake up your brain and body.

“Hmm late night eh?” She says, a hard cold stare still on her face, her tone is degrading.

“What the hell Janine, I didn’t hurt her!” It was the truth, maybe you called her delusional and that was too far, but you didn’t do any worse than she did to you.

“Then why did she come back to our room, crying at three in the morning? She refuses to tell me what you did, but she mentioned your name while I was trying to comfort her, so what the hell did you do?”

Learning that Jessie had also cried over your argument made you feel somewhat better about your own tears. You’re sure Janine could see your eyes were puffy and likely bloodshot.

You throw your hands up “What I did? Janine did you think that maybe she won’t tell you what happened because it was what she was the one who did something to me?”

You watch as Janine’s face drops for a second. She looks unsure if she’s supposed to believe you or not.

“I didn’t hurt her.�� You take a breath, sitting back on your bed, debating if it’s even worth explaining your side. This was Jessie’s best friend, of course she won’t believe you. Deciding to tell her anyways, you quickly begin rambling, telling Janine everything.

You start to tell Janine about what happened. You tell her about the first coffee kiss, how you mom had yelled at both of you and how you made the agreement to be professional. You then go on to tell her about the second coffee kiss, the one she almost walked in on. You mention the hand holding on the plane. You then go on to explain how Jessie seemed to think you and Olivia were a thing. You mention the movie and how you were in her bed, you explain it all.

“Oh, so that’s why the coffee shop was weird between you two. I thought maybe you two had finally hooked up or something and you were trying not to be weird about it, I tried to ask Jessie about it but she wouldn’t say anything.” She cracks a small smile.

“No, we haven't slept together, or hooked up or done anything beyond just kissing, and even the kisses, they weren’t like make outs, and oh my god why am I telling you this?” You cover your face for a second, taking a breath to ease your embarrassment.

When you look back Janine has a smug look on her face, probably to your reaction to accidentally admitting the extent of your and Jessie’s physical relationship. You try to push the thought from your mind and get back to telling her the details

“Regardless, Jessie thought I had blown her off to go with Olivia but she was the one who hung up on me. I wanted to go with her, I told her I could go in the morning before I went around with Olivia. She didn’t say yes, she hung up on me.” You finish explaining the situation with Olivia to Janine.

“Then what were you two doing at two in the morning together?” She questioned, knowing you and Jessie had seen each other the night before. You explained that you couldn’t sleep so you went down to the conference room for a break and that Jessie had been there watching her penalty.

“She accused me of being the reason she missed her penalty, telling me I got in her head with me being with Olivia I guess and it upset her and rattled her focus.” You take a breath, knowing you had to admit your own faults to Janine too. “And then I, I called her delusional, which I know was wrong.” You look away from Janine not wanting to make eye contact, knowing what you said to Jessie was terrible. “And then she called me a waste of time.”

Janine just gives a slow nod, her eyes wide as she tries to process the information that is being thrown at her. “Oooookayyy then, I wasn’t expecting that..” She finally says. The room then returns to silence.

“Look, I may be Jessie’s best friend, but she doesn’t get to blame you for missing that penalty, she can’t really blame herself even though she always does, penalties are luck, you pick a spot, you kick it, if it’s the same spot the keeper picked, oh well.”

She takes a deep breath looking at you, she clasps her hands in front of her.

“But also as her best friend, I’m going to ask you, if you can, to give her some grace. I know she maybe doesn’t deserve it, especially after what she said. But, Jessie, she’s a good person, but she sometimes tried to be too perfect. She’s a perfectionist. And she has a lot of pressure on her right now, first major tournament as the official captain, she’s got the pressure of Canada, and then she’s got the pressure from herself. She’s hard on herself, too hard and she knows it, but she can’t always help it.”

You nod, you knew being around Jessie at training, when she’d struggle with a skill, she’d stay late mastering it, practicing over and over, exhausting herself to get it right. You knew this whole tournament was likely weighing on her mentally, not to add the feeling of missing her penalty.

“I’m sure the outburst at you, was not what she fully meant. She was probably upset about the penalty and she let it boil over into her personal life. Maybe she was jealous about Olivia too, but once she learned she had a boyfriend then it shouldn’t have mattered. I think she unfortunately was bottling up one too many feelings, the bottle just broke on you.”

You nod, it makes sense.

“She’ll probably kill me if she ever finds out I’m telling you to talk to her, she won’t like me meddling. But if you can, talk to her, now that she’s calmed down a bit.” Janine let’s put a sigh. “Jessie really likes you, it’s annoying to hear about but seriously she does and I want her to be happy, which you seem to make her happy, with the exception of the crying last night. I understand if her behavior was a deal breaker though, I’d just advise you to hear her out, and have her hear you out as well. You two need to have an adult conversation, not a screaming match at three in the morning. You need to talk about all of this, make up your minds about whatever you two are doing.”

“I know.” You nod at her, it was nice having someone else talk some sense into you, you hoped she gave a similar discussion to her roommate.

“Sorry I came in here on a mission to accuse you. Jessie was just incredibly upset last night, I figured something happened, I assumed you did something, sorry about that.”

You shrug at her. “It’s alright, I get it, you're her best friend, you’re just looking out for her.” It’s true you’re not upset at Janine, it was alarming for her to come in yelling, but she had been sensible.

Janine takes steps toward the door, you stand up from the bed to follow her to the door.

“I’m her best friend, but I’m not going to excuse her behavior when she was out of line.” She opens the door and walks out, you’re assuming back to her own room where Jessie likely was getting ready to head to training in the next half hour.

You pack up your backpack, dreading going to work for the first time since you joined this team, you didn’t want to have to see Jessie, you didn’t want to have to see Janine, you didn’t want to see your mom or Olivia, you’d rather be alone.

As you headed down to the lobby your phone vibrates in your pocket. You roll your eyes reading the text.

Jessie Fleming: So you're allowed to tell Janine about our argument and all the other details but I’m not allowed to tell her I kissed you?

You: She came barging into my room this morning demanding to know what I did to hurt you because you refused to say anything so yes, I told her what happened.

You: I was defending myself.

When she doesn’t text you back you slip your phone back into your jacket and take a seat at a table in the lobby.

“Hey kiddo!” Your Mom slips into the seat across from you. “You alright?”

“Yeah good, just didn’t sleep well.” You try and give her your best smile. Your Mom squints at you. You know she knows something’s up. She knew you too well, she always had.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, I’m good, I’m ready to work, I didn’t sleep well last night and it’s not something I want to talk about.” You didn’t sleep well, that was the truth. It wasn’t exactly lying by just not telling her what was keeping you awake.

“Issues with Miss 17?” She knew, she always knew. You just give her a glare across the table. “Alright, I’m not going to get involved despite my motherly instinct. I’m here if you want to talk, don’t let it affect work because you’re bottling it up.”

You think about the irony of you Mom telling you not to bottle up your feelings, the same thing that Janine had said Jessie typically did.

“I won’t, I’m good.” You say, rather harshly, before you turn in your chair to face away from your Mom.

When the players begin to file down from their rooms and out to the buses you stand up from the table, grabbing your bag. You follow your Mom, Olivia, and the rest of the staff toward the staff bus.

“I need to talk to you.” You feel a gentle hand on your arm. You recognize the voice, it's softer than it was last night when it was yelling at you. Jessie had strayed from the line of players getting on their own bus and was now standing next to you.

“No you don’t, you said what you needed to say yesterday.” You quickly say to her, not wanting to draw additional attention to the two of you.

“Please.” You hated how easily you were about to give into her. All it took was for her to look at you, wide eyed in hope that you’ll hear her out. You look at your watch, she had to be on the bus in three minutes. She notices you checking the time. “I’ll be quick.” She glances at the bus door where the rest of her teammates were waiting to board, likely watching and eavesdropping as she talked to you.

When you don’t say anything she takes it as permission to speak.

“I was terrible, you are not a waste of my time, you are not a waste of anyone’s time. That was a terrible, horrific thing to say to you or to say to anyone, no one is a waste of time.” She reached out to put a hand to your arm, you pull your arm away, giving her the hint you don’t want to touch her.

“I don’t want to be making excuses for myself, I said what I said, I regret it. There is no excuse for what I did and I understand I can’t take that back, I can’t unsay those words to you. But I’m sure you can understand I’m under a lot of pressure here, then with the missed penalty, I snapped. I’m usually good under pressure, yesterday I wasn’t and I panicked. I-” she checks over her shoulder to the bus and let’s out a huff as she sees the last of her teammates board the bus.

“You’re going to be late.” You say, not acknowledging any of the apology she just gave you.

“That’s fine, they can wait a second, I’ll be late. I need to finish.” She waves off the bus, looking back to you. This time when you make eye contact you notice her puffy eyes, a little bloodshot. As her physio you’re concerned for her lack of sleep. You can’t help but wonder if she’s noticed the same look in your own eyes.

“No, go.” You point at the bus door. You had already caused enough issues making her miss the penalty, you weren’t going to be the reason she was late.

“Can we please talk later? I didn’t get to say everything, I have a lot more to say to you.”

You nod at her. You didn’t feel like hearing her out, but you thought back to your conversation with Janine. You had already let her start apologizing, might as well let her finish. Then you two could finally have an adult conversation.

“Meet me after training, we can finish this.” You tell her, she whispers a quick thank you and turns jogging to the bed.

You attend training like normal, trying to pay attention to everyone equally but naturally your eyes constantly found their way to Jessie. You were pissed at her but you couldn’t deny she was so attractive when playing.

The way she was incredibly physical compared to her usually timid demeanor, the way she’d yell to her teammates asking for the ball, the way she’d pull down her shorts. The way she’d wipe the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, lifting it enough to show her toned stomach made your own stomach clench.

Toward the end of training Jessie lifted her shirt again, wiping her forehead, when she pulled her shirt down, she was looking in your direction, making eye contact with you. She bit her lip with a slight smirk seeing you were watching her.

You couldn’t help but give her a small smile back. For a split second you forgot all the terrible things she said, you forgot you were mad, it was just you and her smiling at each other from across the pitch.

But then she turned back to continue her drill and you remembered your argument and her hurtful words and now you were mad at her and yourself. You shouldn’t have looked at her, you shouldn’t have smiled at her.

After training you help the girls with treatment and recovery. You make the ice bath, you hand out heating pads. You help take off the stability taping that you put on just a few hours ago. It was an easy end to your day. Jessie gets herself into the ice bath for 10 minutes before she hops out and moves to the corner of the room waiting.

“What are you waiting on Jessie? I can help you.” You hear your Mom ask, she was one of the last few players in the training room, but she wasn’t actively being treated. Just standing in the corner of the room, bike shorts still soaking wet from her ice bath, making a small puddle at her feet..

You look up from where you were cleaning water bottles to watch as Jessie points at you. Her hand close to her chest to not make the pointing obvious. Your Mom’s head turns to look at you, and then back to Jessie. She just shakes her head at the two of you and mutters something under her breath that you’re not able to understand.

You occupy yourself restocking the first aid kits, cleaning out the ice bath, all the small tasks, you offer to take over all the other physio’s end of shift jobs to get them to leave the facility sooner. Soon it’s just you, Jessie, and your Mom left in the room.

“I’m going to go, let you two have whatever discussion you need to. Do you have a plan to get back to the hotel? Both of you?” You Mom asks before she leaves the room checking that you both weren’t coming on the bus.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You let her know.

When Jessie doesn’t answer, your Mom asks again. “Fleming?”

“I’m good, thank you for checking.” She thanks your Mom with a smile and a wave.

Knowing you both were good, your Mom walks out the door, leaving just you and Jessie in the training room. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting with your legs dangling. Jessie walks over from the corner she was standing in. She places a towel down before she hops up onto the treatment table across from you. You both sit for a moment, looking at each other.

Jessie breaks the silence first. “It wasn’t fair for me to blame the penalty on you.”

“I know.” You decide this is the time to get out your frustrations with the brown haired, brown eyed, beautiful freckled girl in front of you. You couldn’t help but admire her despite being about to yell at her.

“It wasn’t fair for you to blame me for your kick, it wasn’t fair for you to shove me, it wasn’t fair to your team for you to leave the game without anyone knowing, it wasn’t fair for you to just assume I immediately went to fuck Olivia just because we’re sharing a room, sorry I wanted to have a friend! We were watching a movie, that’s why I was in her bed. She put on a movie and I fell asleep because I don’t speak French! It wasn’t fair to assume just because I was trying to be professional that I no longer was interested in you and moved on to the first girl I could find. None of that was fair to me Jessie!” As you yell your voice gets louder.

“I know.” She looks ashamed, Jessie is looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with you anymore.

“It’s not my fucking fault you thought about me during your kick, I had no control over that!” You take a second to notice the tone of your voice and decide the two of you have had one too many screaming matches recently. You lower your voice, letting your sadness from the night before overtake your anger with her. “It feels really shitty to be blamed for something you had no control over Jess.”

“I know.” Jessie repeats herself. Her voice is quiet, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, her eyes looking glossy as if she’s about to cry. “I know none of that was fair.”

“Then why did you do it?” You start to feel your own eyes water.

“Because you were there.” Her hands clap down onto her knees. “That’s it, and I know that that’s not fair to you either but I had already spent the previous five hours blaming myself, ripping myself apart for missing that kick, so when you walked in, I was able to put the blame on you and I felt like I could breathe again. I think I would’ve ripped off anyone’s head who walked in.”

“You’re saying had Janine walked in instead you would’ve screamed at her? I find that hard to believe.” You hop off the counter, walking around the room. You pick up a lacrosse ball the girls use to roll out with, tossing it between your hands.

“I don’t know, maybe. It also didn’t help that I was already having feelings thinking you were with Olivia now, I got jealous.” She turns around on the treatment table to keep watch on you. “So I think my anger with you was a little different than it would’ve been with someone else. But I probably still would’ve ended up yelling at Janine or anyone, just it would’ve been a little different words. I’m just, I’m really sorry.”

You’re not sure how to react to her apology, so instead you start your own. You’re occupying your body, bouncing the ball on the ground while you speak with her.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have called you delusional, I shouldn’t have ever started anything with you, it’s inappropriate and unprofessional, I’m supposed to be someone you can come to for help. I’m sorry I aided in our little back and forth from flirting to coworkers to friends, I didn’t do anything to stop it and I should have.”

“We both failed at being professional, it’s not just you.”

“Yep.” You quietly say to her. It’s quiet again between the two of you. An uncomfortable silence falling over the room with the rhythmic bouncing of the ball against the ground.

You bounce the ball all the way across the room and back before you look at Jessie. “Okay so what now?”

“Nothing.” She just looks at you. Her expression blank.

“Nothing?” You stop bouncing the ball, turning to look at her.

She hops off the table and comes to stand in front of you. “I only wanted to apologize. I messed up in an awful way, I was awful to you. I’m not here to beg for you to be my friend, let alone ask for you to be anything more, I just needed to apologize. I don’t expect you to have any interest in anything happening between us anymore.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

You look at Jessie, taking in her appearance, her cheeks still rosy from playing. Her eyes are no longer puffy like they were this morning, she’s chewing on her bottom lip, her hands are fidgeting. She’s nervous.

You then realize you're nervous. You hadn’t previously been aware of how hard your heart was beating, how you could feel it through your chest. The room was warm, your skin crawling. You didn’t know what her reaction was going to be to your next question.

“What if I did still have interest in us?”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

276 notes · View notes

paradiseprincesss · 2 days

Note

Jonathan Crane with a cam corder… 📸

mind games - jonathan crane x reader

hello anon! you asked and you shall receive. please enjoy xoxo. this gave me a fucked up idea about the whole camcorder thing...oops. i am SORRY.

summary: as fate would have it, you meet handsome stranger who you learn is named jonathan, and the two of you hit it off well - so well, that he invites you back to his place after a romantic date. what you didn't realize was that this wasn't the doing of fate at all, it was a plan jonathan had in the works for a long, long time.

warnings: NON-CON, jonathan is in his joe goldberg era (he's stalking), manipulation, voyeurism (no like, really), non-consensual filming/recording, obsessive behaviour, p in v, guys this is just super fucked up i have...no explantion

you didn't see it coming. you wouldn't have gone running into his arms if you did. jonathan was the loner type - never opening his heart to anyone.

that was until he saw you - he was taken with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. you had to be his; he wouldn't have it any other way. he was set on having you succumb to him.

this man had an immense amount of self control. he had prowled, waited, stalked and targeted you for months and you didn't have a clue. he first saw you on the street by his apartment at 9:48 pm exactly on a fateful friday night - you stole his tainted heart.

on that particular night, you were heading to your favourite bar with your friends, and he watched you as you stepped out of your uber. his eyes lingered for much too long, and before he knew it; he was plotting.

he lurked in the shadows of the night to see when you would leave, and he got his answer - 12:58 am. that was the time when he saw you leave the bar, waving goodbye to your friends as you waited outside momentarily for an uber to pick you up.

he noticed everything about you down to a t. the way you parted your hair, the colour of your nails, the way you did your makeup, what kind of clothes you wore - everything.

while you waited for your uber, your intuition kicked in - was someone watching you?

but you tried to shake the feeling - it was probably just paranoia, it was late, after all. he watched as you stood there waiting, and knew he had to make a move then and there.

"excuse me, miss!" you hear a mans voice say from behind you, causing you to startle slightly, and he noticed. "i apologize, i didn't mean to startle you. i just came over to say that perhaps you should wait inside the bar rather than outside on the street. this part of gotham isn't exactly known for it's...friendly townspeople."

the way he spoke calmed you down - he had a gentle, caring aura and you took a good look at him as well. he was handsome - my god was he handsome. he was perfect; every detail about him was almost godlike. the first thing you noticed about him were his striking, blue eyes. you didn't know someone could have such beautiful eyes.

"oh," you managed to softly say after an awkward moment of checking out the handsome stranger in front of you, "thank you for letting me know, but it's okay. my uber should be here in a minute." you thank the seemingly kind stranger, and he nods.

"right, well - be safe. have a good night." he says softly, and you almost got lost in his eyes again.

"thank you, you as well." you reply, a small smile on your lips.

and with that, he was gone - walked right back into his apartment building without another word. well, that's what it looked like, anyways. however, that was far from the truth.

your uber arrived within mere seconds, and you got in. jonathan watched from the shadows of an alleyway behind you, and as you and your uber set off, he hailed down the nearest cab he could find.

"just follow that white car over there." he tells the cab driver, and the guy doesn't question it. this was gotham after all, nobody ever questioned anything - nobody had any morals.

you were too focused on texting your friends, still a little tipsy, in the uber to notice that a cab had been tailing you for the last fifteen minutes.

whoops.

as the uber driver pulled up to the curb of your house, you get out and thank him tiredly. you grab your keys out of your purse, and unlock the front door of your house. closing the door (and thankfully, locking it) behind you, you switch on the lights of your home.

you threw your jacket on the couch and slipped off your high heels with a sigh. unbeknownst to you, someone was watching your every move through your curtains - which you habitually left open a little too often. jonathan let his sinister thoughts run wild as he watched you from the street in front of your home, standing just far enough so that he wasn't noticeable.

he watched you like a lion stalking it's prey - silently and from a distance, undetected.

suddenly, his eyes widened as he saw you start to undress in your bedroom upstairs, too focused on his lewd thoughts about you to notice that you had even gone upstairs.

foolish girl, he thought to himself as he creeped on you. slowly, you slipped your dress off, and to his surprise - you weren't wearing any panties under your dress.

where you an exhibitionist? a thrill-seeker? a huge freak? just mental? maybe you were just slutty, who knows. but as he was trying to collect his thoughts, he frowned.

you threw on some baggy pyjamas - disappointing. he wanted to see more. but what came next perhaps shocked him more than the whole no panties thing; you got into your bed, and held up what appeared to be pictures of some sort in your hands.

and you started crying.

you were actually crying, and that caught jonathan off guard.

why were you crying? did someone hurt you? did someone break your heart? shatter it in two? ruin you?

the questions ran through his mind endlessly, and he felt himself wanting to know. so, he decided to document this moment so that he could get to know you better.

jonathan liked to document things. that was a habit of his that he couldn't quite seem to kick.

unbeknownst to jonathan, you were crying over old photos of you and your ex-boyfriend. he wasn't a good person by any means, quite the opposite - but that didn't mean you weren't going to mourn the relationship. it had barely been a month since the two of you split; and you were so vulnerable right now.

at that very moment, you wished someone else could be there for you. that you could run into someone else's arms and they would save you - because you craved it. you needed it. and jonathan seemed to sense that without you even having to say a single word to him.

he could save you, he thought. he could be the one to show you what real love looked like.

taking the little, handheld camcorder out of his suit pocket, he started to record you from afar; recording you crying. it was rather innocent, really. at least, it started out that way anyway.

god, some sick, twisted, creepy individual could be watching you - you should really close your curtains, jonathan thought to himself as he watched you, smirking coyly at the irony of it all.

after filming you for a few more minutes, he slipped the camcorder away, and hailed a cab down the street from yours back to his apartment.

the sun was shining beautifully, the birds were chirping, and the weather was divine on this pleasant summer day. you were loving this summer weather, and you were currently standing in line at your favourite coffee shop, waiting to order an iced latte.

but jonathan already knew that.

he watched you get ready to go out as he stood on the street in broad daylight staring at you through the windows, since apparently you didn't know how to close your fucking curtains.

he got some good footage that day on his camcorder.

as of now, jonathan was stood behind you in the coffee shop, acting like he hadn't just filmed you like a sick freak for the last few hours. as you went up to the barista to order, you reached into your purse to pay - only to realize you had forgotten your wallet at home.

but again, jonathan was aware of this because technically, he was there in spirit when it happened.

so, what did he do? he offered to pay, of course. because he's just that kind.

"here, i got it-" he said from behind you, pulling his card out to tap on the machine. you looked behind you in surprise - but you recognized those striking eyes immediately.

it was the kind stranger from the other night! he really was a sweetheart, wasn't he?

"oh, gosh, thank you." you say, flustered at the interaction and slightly embarrassed. "it's no problem-" but he pauses, smiling at you for a moment, "hey, you're the girl i saw the other night. i'm glad you made it home safely."

you smile back at the stranger, yet to put a name to his gorgeous face. "yeah, yeah that was me." you say, the two of you stepping aside so that other people could order. "thank you again - i'm so embarrassed." you laugh softly.

"don't be," he says gently, "i'm jonathan, by the way."

he finally introduced himself - but he already knew you quite well. a little too well. you gave him your name, briefly introducing yourself, and he looks at you through his glasses.

"well, it's lovely to, er- meet you again?" he laughs softly, and you giggle - your voice giving him butterflies. "right, nice to re-meet you." you tease, making him smile again.

"are you doing anything today? hopefully not getting too tipsy, i hope - kidding." he says to you with a friendly tone, and you shake your head laughing. "that wasn't on the agenda today, no."

he knew that it wasn't. he knew that today you had nothing planned. you just wanted to enjoy the pretty weather, maybe go for a walk or something with your iced latte. and how did he know this, you ask? well, that's simple.

he stood by your window last night, camcorder in hand, and recorded you talking to your friend about it on the phone in bed - in just your bra and panties.

"i'm taking the day off today." your voice brought him back to reality. "i think i'm just going to enjoy the beautiful weather today. i love the sun, it makes me feel so energized - i dunno."

"i agree with you there." he says, nodding as if he was hearing about this for the first time. but your next question actually caught him off guard. "d'wanna join me?"

he looks at you for a moment, and you start to get flustered again. "sorry- i'm sure you have a girlfriend or something-"

"hey, hey-" he says soothingly, "first of all, i do not have a girlfriend. and secondly, i would love to. it's my day off as well, actually."

you beam at him, and he finds your smile so cute. god, he just wanted to fucking choke you right then and there - but of course, he had some self control.

the two of you spent the day together, enjoying the gorgeous summer day, and you hit it off instantly. you learned that his full name was jonathan crane, and that he was a doctor at arkham asylum. you told him about what you did for a living, and he told you he found it "fascinating."

before you said goodbye, he asked for your number which you willingly gave over. the rush of being able to actually talk to you was almost too much for him, and his brain was short-circuiting at the mere thought of it.

that night, the two of you parted ways - but you both ended up back at your place; you just weren't aware that you had company.

this time, taking your photos and filming you from afar wasn't satisfying the urges in him anymore. he needed more. as the sun set, you finished doing the dishes and cleaned up after cooking dinner. you made your way to your living room, switching off your lights - except a slim lamp that stood beside your couch.

getting cozy and comfortable in your house wear, you put on your favourite show to watch, and sat back blissfully on your couch - while someone else was watching you in the dark.

he had managed to make his way in through the huge window - which you stupidly left unlocked - by your living room hours earlier while you were preoccupied upstairs getting changed.

he did a pretty good job at hiding out of sight from you - and he internally applauded himself for that.

suddenly, you got up from the couch, startling him, and he hid closer to the shadows - lurking in the darkness of what you called home.

he watched you finally close those fucking curtains, then returning to the couch you previously sat at. he wondered why now of all times you decided to close your curtains-

oh.

that's when he heard it.

soft, little moans were being drawn out of your pretty lips as your fingers ghosted over your clit. he could feel himself getting painfuly hard at just your sounds - because remember, he couldn't see all of you from where he was hiding.

so, you were indulging in a little self pleasure - was that so wrong? to be fair, you thought you were all alone. your moans got breathier, louder as you slowly slipped two fingers into your aching hole.

jonathan - being the sick psychopath he was - snuck his way around the darkness of your downstairs floor, trying to be as stealthy and quiet as possible. finally, he saw what he was so desperately trying to see.

you with your baggy shirt, which had ridden up, exposing your pretty tits and your fingers in your pretty pussy, panties thrown on your living room floor.

he watched, and he had to physically hold himself back from taking you right then and there - trying his hardest not to moan at the sight of you fucking yourself with your fingers.

slowly, he slipped his hand into his pocket - and pulled out his camcorder. pressing record, he started to film you from where he was. he was definitely going to jerk off to this later. he filmed all of it - you fingering yourself, your pretty moans, and of course, when you came all over your own fingers.

after you came down from your high, you laid breathless on your couch for a good while. jonathan took this opportunity to sneak out of your house - undetected.

that night, he watched that video of you on repeat, over and over, cumming all over his fist as he breathlessly moaned your name.

you shook your head as you laughed in the dimly lit restaurant, "it was the worst date i'd ever been on."

jonathan looked at you, smiling and laughing along with you. "that sounds...brutal, if i'm being honest."

the two of you were on your first official date - which you had been discussing over text and on the phone, and now it was finally happening. jonathans obsessive little heart was overflowing with joy.

the two of you were currently drinking expensive champagne and sharing "worst first date" stories - and you really thought this man, this stranger who fate brought into your life, could be the one.

he was so funny, so kind, so charming - it was like you knew him for ages.

as the date came to an end, he took your hand, holding onto it softly after paying the bill (because he's still a classy guy, after all), and spoke to you in a saccharine voice.

"would it be so terrible if i asked if you'd like to come back to my place?"

you blushed and bit your lip, shaking your head. "not terrible at all - count me in."

and that may have quite literally been the biggest mistake of your life, maybe even bigger than the mistake of not closing your curtains.

as he parked his car in the parking garage of the apartment complex, he helped you out of his car and held your hand as he took you into the elevator and then to his apartment.

unit #303 - you'd come to never forget it.

as the two of you got inside his place, you took a moment to admire the classiness of his apartment. it was clean, minimalistic and dark, and just like him, it appeared to be a perfectly normal from the surface.

"you truly are stunning." he said lowly, pulling you close by your waist, making you blush.

"i really like you, jonathan." you tell him softly, and he gives you a gentle kiss. willingly, you kiss back - unaware of what was to come next.

"i knew i had to make you mine the night i first saw you." he says, looking at you with a soft smile. you didn't think about what he really meant here - you weren't even aware of what he really meant. "that's so sweet." you whisper, and his grip on your waist tightened suddenly.

"no, really." he says, tone growing slightly impatient, "i couldn't stop myself."

your breath hitches in your throat as you aren't too sure what he means by this - but you try and give him the benefit of the doubt. "uh," you laugh nervously, "t-thank you, i guess?"

then he went quiet.

"would you like to see my mask?" he asks, after a moment of silence - and you look at him confused and slightly scared. "your...mask?"

suddenly, he's guiding you into the bedroom, and you're feeling both confused and very anxious - but your anxiety skyrockets as you take a look at what was in his bedroom.

photos of you covered the wall - pictures of you that you weren't aware had even been taken. there was photos of you talking on the phone to your friends, cooking, watching shows - and then there were the not-so-innocent photos.

pictures of you with your fingers buried into your cunt, pictures of you walking around naked, and pictures of you posing in your lingerie on the bed; taking pictures of yourself in the mirror to send to someone else.

your body went into flight or fight - and you tried to make a run for it but a cloudy gas filled your senses, causing you to scream erratically. what appeared in front of you was horrendous - your worst fears brought to life, clouding your vision.

and there stood jonathan in the midst of all the chaos - in what appeared to be some sort of burlap mask. staring at you with those deadly yet beautiful blue eyes through the small holes in his mask. as his toxin started to creep into your system, you noticed he was holding something in his hand.

a camcorder.

judging by all the pictures of you on the wall, you knew where this was going and it made you fucking nauseous.

"n-no.." you whimpered, shaking as he took hold of you and threw you onto the bed. he propped his camcorder up onto the bedside table, the red light flashing; indicating that he was indeed filming this.

he ripped your clothes right off you, and at this point, you were a sobbing mess. "please don't do this - you don't have to do this, jonathan."

you begged, you screamed, and you cried; but to no avail, he kept going. kept undressing you and forcing you down onto his bed - scarecrow mask still covering his face.

"keep screaming like that and i'll cum." he says, pinning you down on the bed with such force you didn't even know if it was humanely possible. the hallucinations of the toxin had you thrashing and screaming, and while you were busy fearing for your life - he was busy undoing his pants and belt buckle.

"no, no, please no-" you pleaded with him, but he didn't give in - he was never going to set you free. "shh, let me see your fears consume you, my love." he whispered, picking up the camcorder again.

you were drugged up out of your mind at this point, the toxin taking it's full effects on you. just as your high was reaching it's deadly peak, you felt the tip of his cock poke at your cunt.

you sobbed at the feeling of it - just by the tip you could feel how thick he was - how big he was. he was going to rip you open; you could just feel it.

"say hi to the camera, my love." he tells you, while spitting onto his cock to try and fit it in with a little more ease. as you sobbed with the camcorder in your face, he pushed himself into you with a staggered thrust.

the feeling of him forcing his cock in was brutal.

"i-i can't take it!" you thrashed and screamed, but he kept your wrists pinned down with one hand and the camcorder in the other. "too big?" he cooed, "fuck baby, you can take it. and if you can't - i'll force you to."

he fucked you roughly, your tight cunt squeezing him in all the disgustingly right ways. you weren't trying to get wet - it was just your body's natural response. at this point, you had stopped crying from either pure shock or from the drugs - probably both.

"jon-"

"fuck, that's right baby. say my name." he groans, panning the camcorder down to film your abused little cunt taking his huge cock - pounding into you mercilessly.

"should i cum inside?" he grunted, fat cock pushing into your cervix - undoubtably bruising your insides. "yeah, i think i will. you'd look so pretty with my cum dripping out of you."

you shook your head no, pleading with him to pull out since you weren't on any contraceptives at the moment - but it dawned on you that he probably knew that.

"please no, pull o-out, ah- jon, pull out!" you wriggled around in his grasp, begging and pleading with the psychopath who was balls deep in your cunt right now.

"no." he spat, and continued his assault on you. "you can fucking take it." you tried your hardest to push away from him, scratch him, bite him - anything to try and get away but it was no use. his grip was unwavering.

after a few more excruciatingly painful thrusts into your abused cunt, he painted your walls white with his sticky cum, filling you up to the brim.

"god, i love you." he whispered as he spilled his seed into you, and you sobbed at his words in pure disgust. as the toxin slowly wore off, you laid there lifelessly, the light inside you draining minute by minute. your eyes darted around the bedroom, taking in all the eerie pictures of you scattered all over the walls.

your mind flashed back to the fateful night you first met him; your intuition was right - it never lies.

someone was watching you.

a/n: i will be writing a bunch of soft, fluffy crane fics and drabbles to recover from THIS. ok bye

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #dr jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x female reader #jonathan crane x y/n #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n

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apollosfavkiddo · 2 days

Text

⛧° i hate you more. episode 1

⛧° Beginning. Sort of.

content: jason grace x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings: cursing, 3rd person writing.

a/n: look who's spoiling you today? so, be welcomed to the first episode of my first ever series! i honestly hope you like it. by the way, i copied it from this fic on wattpad, cause i don't have the digital book. good reading!

word count: +6.6k

She didn’t know why she hated Jason. She just had that feeling deep in her gut ever since they “met” in that stupid bus to the Wilderness School, when she couldn’t remember her own name nor where she came from.

The only thing her stupid mind remembered is that she really didn’t like the boy sitting beside her. He seemed so… perfect. Like, the annoying type of perfect. The type of perfect that makes anyone fawn over you.

With that stupid messy blond hair, that stupid tanned skin and stupid strong arms, she just knew she disliked him, a very lot.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing they saw was her sea green gaze analyzing him. He grimaced immediately, as if realizing that he hated you too.

And suddenly, something came to her. Jason. That’s his name?

“Finally the sleeping beauties are up, huh?” A boy that looked like a latino gremlin with pointy ears teased. The girl beside him slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Shut up, Leo. Let the couple.” The girl in the front seat said, giggling ever so slightly.

‘Couple’? She and blondie were a couple? When she heard those words, she finally realized the position they were in.

Her head was laid on his shoulder, and it seemed like they had fallen asleep like that. He had a small wet stain on the sleeve of his shirt, that looked a lot like drool, probably hers. But the weirdest part of it all was that they were holding hands. Like, intertwined level.

She immediately let go and pulled away from him, her mind still dizzy and groggy from the slumber she was in.

“What the-“ She mumbled, trying to pull herself from that sleepy state she was in, but the boy beside her reacted first

“Y/n?” He asked, staring right into her eyes. He also seemed to instantly dislike her.

“Listen here, cupcakes!” A squeaky voice yelled out from the front of the bus. She drifted her eyes towards where the sound came from.

It was clearly the baseball coach. He wore a cap pulled low in his hair. Had a weird stubble and sour face, as if he had eaten something rotten. A whistle hung from his neck and there was a megaphone clipped to his belt. He’d be fairly scary if he wasn’t five foot zero.

“Stand up, Coach Hedge!” A student jeered.

“I hear that!” His eyes scanned over the bus as if looking for the culprit, but his eyes locked at Jason and Y/n. His scowl deepened, and she realized that the tiny man knew that they shouldn’t be there. She got scared for a few seconds if he was going to call them and ask how the hell did they got there. She had no idea what she would answer in that case.

The man looked away, clearing his throat. "We'll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner. Don't lose your worksheet. And if any of you precious little cupcakes cause any trouble on this trip, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way." He mimed hitting a homerun with a wooden baseball bat.

“Can he talk to us like that?” The blond boy - Jason - asked, but this time directed to the other two people sitting in front of him.

The pretty girl just shrugged him off. “Always does. This is the Wilderness School. ‘Where kids are the animals’.” She said, grinning as if this was some sort of joke that the pair was supposed to be on.

“This is some kind of mistake.” Y/n said, finally sitting up straight. “I… I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, right.” Latino Gremlin - Leo - spoke up again. “We’ve all been framed. I didn’t run away six times. You didn’t blow up a gas station. Piper didn’t steal a BMW.”

That last one earned him a harder slap, but this time with no hint of playfulness, from the pretty girl named Piper. “I didn’t steal that car, Leo!”

Piper and Leo, Y/n thought. Are we friends?

"Oh, I forgot, Piper. What was your story? You 'talked' the dealer into lending it to you?" He raised an eyebrow at Jason, as if to say can you believe her?

Piper looked at Y/n with hopeful eyes, as if she was supposed to believe her or back her up, but as far as she knew, she'd never met the girl before today. Still, Piper looked at her and talked to her and Jason as if they'd been friends long enough to share an inside joke and maybe a few secrets.

What the hell is going on?

"Anyway," Leo said, "I hope you've got your worksheet, Jason, cause I used mine for spit wads days ago." He looked up from fidgeting with the buttons of his army jacket, frowning at Jason's confused stare. "Why are you looking at me like that? Somebody draw on my face again? Piper, I swear -"

"I don't know you," Jason said.

“As much as I hate to agree with blondie here,” Y/n said, grimacing at the boy beside her as he rolled his eyes. “but I don’t know you either.”

Leo rolled his eyes with an amused grin. "Sure. I'm not your best friend, I'm his evil twin," he joked.

"Leo Valdez!" Coach Hedge yelled from the front. "Problem back there?"

Leo winked at Jason and Y/n. "Watch this." He turned back toward the front of the bus. "Sorry, Coach! I was having trouble hearing you. Could you use your megaphone, please?"

The coach unclipped his megaphone and continued calling out instructions, but his voice was distorted.

The students cracked up, growing louder as the coach tried again and the megaphone blared: "The cow says moo!"

"Valdez!" Coach Hedge yelled.

Piper stifled a laugh. "How did you do that?"

Leo flashed a tiny screwdriver at them before returning it to his sleeve. "I'm a special boy."

"Guys, seriously," Jason said, his tone pleading. "What are we doing here? Where are we going?"

Y/n looked expectantly at the two students in front of them, hoping whatever answer they gave would jog her memory, though those hopes weren't particularly high.

"Are you guys joking?" Piper asked, her eyebrows furrowed in vague concern.

“No! I have no idea who you- “Y/n began, but Leo cut her off almost immediately.

“Of course they’re joking, Pipes. They’re trying to get me back on interrupting they make out sesh last year, aren’t ya’? I already said sorry, guys. I’d never walk in on you two on my own accord, trust. Don’t wanna be traumatized.”

Y/n immediately felt her cheeks heat up, but she didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment. She grimaced again as if she tasted something sour out of nowhere.

“Uhm, I'm sorry to disappoint but, uh…” She hesitated a bit before glancing at the blond boy beside her. He didn’t seem too bad, but she still had that feeling deep in her gut that she hated him. “I’d never make out with him.”

The boy just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I'm the worst option between me and you.”

Piper and Leo glanced at each other with confused expressions. They couldn’t understand what was happening between their friends.

“Uh… okay… what’s going on here? Why are you two bickering as if you aren’t completely in love with each other?” Leo asked.

“In what?” Y/n asked, her voice laced with disgust and disbelief.

“Not possible. At all.” He added, shaking his head eagerly.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Y/n said, exasperatedly.

“Leo. I think they’re serious.” Piper said, as if you two weren’t right in front of her and listening to every bit of conversation they had.

“We are!” Jason insisted. “Well, at least I am. Don’t know ‘bout her.” He said, pointing discretely at Y/n, who hissed and elbowed him on the ribs. “Ow!”

“Oh, please-”

“That’s it!” Coach Hedge yelled from the front. “The back row has just volunteered to clean up after lunch!”

The rest of the kids cheered as Leo muttered, "There's a shocker."

Piper's concerned gaze flickered between Jason and Y/n. "Did you guys hit your heads or something? You really don't know who we are?"

Y/n shook her head, Jason following suit.

Helplessly, he muttered, "I don't even know who I am."

Piper frowned. "Do you remember each other?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n met Jason's eyes with disgust. She knew that she knew him, but she didn't have any memories of him besides the sound of his name and the feeling that they hated each other. Quietly, she said, "Maybe?"

Jason nodded, reluctantly.

"Huh," Piper said, her brows furrowed together in a picture of deep thought. “Let’s figure this out later, we’re already here.”

༺♱༻

The bus dropped them off in front of a large red museum, which sat in the middle of nowhere. All Yn could see was desert everywhere she looked. A cold wind blew over them, making her shiver. She wasn't dressed for the cold weather - she had on a pair of dark-wash blue jeans, worn black combat boots, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt that was about two sizes too big for her. Despite how comfortable it was, though, it wasn't nearly warm enough for the biting cold nipping at her fingers.

"Alright, crash course for the amnesiacs," Leo said.

"We go to the Wilderness School, which means we're the ‘bad kids.' Your family, or the court, or whoever, decided you were too much trouble, so they shipped you off to this lovely prison - sorry, 'boarding school' - in Armpit, Nevada, where you learn valuable nature skills like running ten miles a day through the cacti and weaving daisies into hats! And for a special treat we go on 'educational' field trips with Coach Hedge, who keeps order with a baseball bat. Is it all coming back to you guys?"

Y/n shook her head and muttered a small “No.”

She looked at the kids around them, wondering what they'd all done to be sentenced to a school for delinquents - and what she had done to get sent there, too.

Leo rolled his eyes. "You're really gonna play this out, huh? Okay, so the four of us started here together this semester. We're totally tight. Jason does everything I say, gives me his dessert, does my chores -"

"Leo!" Piper scolded.

"Fine, ignore that last part. But we are friends - and we have fun, at least when you two aren't busy sucking face or having those intense-looking, deep talks where you talk about life and the future and whether those children's books with the bears are called Berenstein or Berenstain-"

"Leo, stop it!" Piper said. "I think they have amnesia or something. We've got to tell someone."

Leo scoffed. "Who, Coach Hedge? He'd try to fix them by whacking them with his baseball bat."

The coach was at the front of the group, barking orders and blowing his whistle to keep the kids in line. Every few minutes he'd glance back at Jason and Y/n and scowl.

"Leo, they need help," Piper insisted. "They could be concussed or-"

"Yo, Piper." One of the other guys in their group dropped back to join the four teenagers as they headed into the museum. He wedged himself between Piper and Y/n, throwing an arm around Piper's shoulders. "Don't talk to these bottom-feeders. You're my partner, remember?"

"Go away, Dylan," Piper grumbled. "Y/n/n's my partner, not you."

The new guy looked at Y/n, something strange flashing over his face before he replaced it with a blinding grin. "Coach said there'll have to be a group of three, what with the odd number, so it's both of your lucky days!" He threw his other arm around Y/n's shoulders, and she bristled immediately, something like dread settling heavily in her stomach. As he dragged Piper and Y/n away from Jason and Leo, she glanced back at them one last time, meeting Jason's eyes for a moment and rolling her own before Dylan was walking her and Piper deeper into the museum.

༺♱༻

Y/n didn't need her memories to know she hated guys like Dylan. She met him barely five minutes ago and she already wanted to punch him to unconsciousness for several different reasons, and she didn’t think she was a violent person. Then again, she didn’t remember even who she was, so her opinion of herself wasn’t truthful. The boy kept his attention focused on Piper, which shouldn’t bother Y/n. But she saw the look of discomfort in Piper’s face every time he spoke with her and touched her.

Everything, without exception, that came out of the guy's mouth was either a flirty remark or something cocky about himself that neither of the girls really wanted to hear. Less than five minutes around him and she already knew everything there was to know about him – he was cocky, egocentric, an asshole and rude.

Y/ noticed some of the other girls in their group kept looking in their direction and snickering. One of them called out, "Hey, Piper, does your tribe run this place? Do you get in free if you do a rain dance?"

The other girls giggled, and even Dylan suppressed a smile. Y/n’s fists clenched at her sides as she glared at him. She was beginning to think that maybe she got sent into that damned school because of fighting, since she was this close to knocking Dylan’s perfect teeth out of his face. Or punch those racists bitches right on the face. Both were tempting options.

"My dad's Cherokee," Piper said through her teeth. "Not Hualapai. 'Course, you'd need a few brain cells to know the difference, Isabel."

Isabel feigned a look of surprise. "Oh, sorry. Was it your mom in this tribe? Oh, that's right. You never knew your mom."

Y/n had to dig her nails deep in her hand, so she didn’t punch that Isabel girl right in the face. For some reason that, like everything in her life right now, she didn’t know why, she knew the perfect spot and strength to punch Isabel and knock her out.

Really useful knowledge you decided to keep, brain.

Piper charged at Isabel and y/n was right behind her, but before a fight could break out, Coach Hedge barked, "Enough back there! Set a good example or I'll break out my baseball bat!"

The teenage racists kept calling out little comments to Piper as they made their way through the museum. Y/n quickly flipped them off and muttered something in a language she recognized but didn’t know which one was it.

Sooner rather than later, Y/n snapped, "Are you going to shut your mouths voluntarily or am I going to have to break each of your fragile little jaws to get you to shut up?"

The gaggle of girls rolled their eyes at Y/n’s threat, as if they doubted she'd follow through with it. Piper grabbed Y/n’s arm before she could make good on her threat. "Where'd that come from?" Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're a bunch of little bitches." she muttered. "They deserve to get more than just their jaws broken."

Piper gave her a small smile, hooking her arm around Y/n's. "Thanks for defending my honor," she said. "But I’m sure I can take care of myself, babes."

Despite her lack of memories, Y/n didn't doubt that for a second.

After more walking, the group of students stopped in front of a set of large glass doors that led out to a terrace. "Alright, cupcakes," Coach Hedge said loudly.

"You are about to see the Grand Canyon. Try not to break it. The skywalk can hold the weight of seventy jumbo jets, so you featherweights should be safe out there. If possible, try to avoid pushing each other over the edge, as that would cause me extra paperwork."

They all stepped outside onto the skywalk. The Grand Canyon spread out before them, huge and unforgiving in its depth. Y/n glanced over the side of the skywalk railing, flinching and quickly stepping back when she felt the flip of her stomach.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and a cold wind washed over the skywalk, making Y/n shiver. Piper, turning away from Dylan, asked with a teasing smile,

"Jason's sweatshirt not warm enough for you?"

“What?!” Y/n glanced down, her cheeks burning as she realized why the sweatshirt was too big for her. Annoyedly, she took it off and said, "Me and Jason, we're... dating?"

Piper raised her eyebrows at her once again. "You seriously don't remember? You guys have been together since before me and Leo even met you - you guys came here together at the start of the semester."

Y/n frowned, beyond frustrated by the fact that she was dating the only person that she remembered both the name and how annoying he was.

Piper's eyes were concerned as she looked Y/n over. "How about Leo and I take you to the nurse when we get back to campus?" she offered. "She might be able to... I don't know, figure it out?"

She felt, deep in her gut, that the school nurse wouldn’t be able to figure out what was going on with her lack of memories, but she nodded anyway. "Thanks," she said quietly. She couldn't remember Piper at all, but she wished she could - Piper seemed like a good friend.

Piper worked on the worksheet they'd apparently been assigned to complete during their field trip. Neither Dylan nor Y/n helped her, but Y/n felt like her excuse - namely not even remembering her own last name, much less what the definition of mechanical erosion was - was a lot better than Dylan's, which seemed to be that he was simply a fucking bastard.

Instead of helping with the worksheet, Dylan was hitting on Piper, touching her shoulder and flashing her that stupid smile. After the fifth time Piper pushed him away, Y/n shoved her way between them, her head barely reaching his shoulder.

"Quit," she snapped.

Dylan rolled his eyes, but that something from before flashed through his eyes again. It made her skin prickle with goosebumps and filled her with anxiety. And, again, that stupid feeling told her that lots of things filled her with anxiety.

Something told her Dylan's worst quality wasn't his inability to take no for an answer, and that made the dread in her stomach grow heavier.

She saw Jason talking to the coach, and she noted the look of relief on his face as the two spoke. She would have gone over to join them, but she didn't want to leave Piper alone with Dylan or to be near Jason voluntarily, so she stayed where she was, glancing over the worksheet in Piper's hands and wincing at the headache trying to read it triggered.

Lightning crackled loudly overhead, the cold wind picking up speed and strength. Worksheets flew into the Grand Canyon, theirs practically being torn out of Piper's hands by a gust of wind. The bridge underneath their feet shuddered and kids screamed, stumbling and grabbing the rails on either side of the skywalk.

Ophelia held the railing so tightly, her knuckles turned white, and she purposefully kept her eyes forward, not letting them stray toward the bottom of the canyon thousands of feet below them.

She almost immediately felt the tears forming in the corners of her eyelids when she looked down – not on purpose – and made a quick realization that if she fell, she’d die.

The coach yelled for them to go back inside. The storm clouds that had been lingering overhead churned like a miniature hurricane. The students around her screamed and ran for the building, which was only a few feet away from Y/n and her group. Piper and Dylan ran for the doors, holding them open and herding the crowd of teenagers inside. Y/n stood frozen on the skywalk, fingers tight around the railing.

She reached into her front pocket, not sure what she was reaching for. But what she did find was a small, cold hard metal. She pulled it from her jeans.

It was a key, made of what looked like solid gold.

Why did she have a gold key in her pocket?

What did it open?

Apparently, she was in a school for delinquents - had she stolen it?

Y/n looked up at the sound of the doors slamming shut, Piper and Dylan having lost their grips. Aside from her and the two of them, Jason, Leo, and Coach Hedge were the only other people on the skywalk. Great. A jackass, a jock, a little latino gremlin, a five-foot male, a beauty queen and a girl who wasn’t even sure her name was Y/n. Couldn’t be better.

Piper struggled with the doors, trying to open them back up, but they seemed to be stuck. "Dylan, help!" Piper shouted over the raging winds.

"Sorry, Piper," he said, standing there with a malicious grin like he was enjoying the sudden storm. "I'm done helping." He flicked his wrist and Piper went flying backward, slamming into the doors and sliding to the floor. Y/n tried to run toward her, but the wind was fighting against her. Dylan looked at her, smirking at her struggle, and flicked his wrist again, sending her backward toward Jason, Leo, and the coach.

Jason caught her around the waist before she could fall all the way to the ground, steadying her. She immediately got away from his touch, glaring daggers at him – who just rolled his eyes.

"Stay behind me," Coach Hedge ordered. "This is my fight. I should've known that was our monster."

"Monster?" Y/n questioned.

"What?" Leo demanded. A flying worksheet smacked him in the face and he swatted it away. "What monster?"

Coach Hedge's cap blew off, and Y/n was beyond shocked to see two horns sticking up above his curly hair. He lifted his baseball bat, but it was different. It had somehow changed into a tree-branch club, with a few twigs and leaves still attached. “What the fu-”

Dylan grinned like a psycho. "Oh, come on, Coach, let the boy attack me!" he mocked. "After all, you're getting too old for this. Isn't that why they retired you to this stupid school? I've been on your team the entire season, and you didn't even know. You're losing your nose, grandpa."

Coach Hedge let out a sound that was like a goat bleating angrily. "That's it, cupcake - you're going down."

"You think you can protect four half-bloods at once, old man?" Dylan laughed. "Good luck."

Uh- What?! Half-bloods?

Dylan pointed at Leo and Y/n watched in horror as a funnel cloud materialized around the curly-haired boy. He flew off the skywalk like he'd been tossed, somehow managing to twist in midair and slam sideways into the canyon wall. He skids, clawing furiously for a handhold, finally grabbing a thin ledge about fifty feet below the skywalk. "Help!" he yelled up at them. "Rope, please? Bungee cord? Something?"

Coach Hedge cursed and tossed Jason his club. "I don't know who you are, kid, but I hope you're good. Keep that thing busy" — he stabbed a thump in Dylan's direction-"while I get Leo."

"Get him how?" Jason demanded. "You going to fly?"

"Not fly. Climb." The coach kicked off his tennis shoes, revealing hooves instead of feet. That settled it – Y/n had officially lost her mind.

"You're a faun," she said, not sure where the knowledge came but sure it was the truth.

Coach Hedge looked at her with a suspicious glint in his eye. "Satyr!" he snapped. "Fauns are Roman. But we'll talk about that later." He leaped over the railing, sailing toward the canyon wall and hitting it hooves first.

"Isn't that cute!" Dylan turned toward Jason. "Now it's your turn, boy."

Jason threw the coach's club, which seemed kind of useless with the winds raging around them, but it flew right at Dylan, even curving when he tried to dodge it, and it smacked him in the head hard enough to bring him to his knees.

She didn't even feel sorry for the satisfaction that flooded her at the sight. Maybe a little, but that was because Jason is a prick.

Y/n noticed Piper feigning a dazed appearance, her fingers closing around the club when it reached her, but before she could use it, Dylan rose. Blood-gold blood-trickled from the wound on his forehead.

"Nice try, boy," he said, glaring at Jason. "But you'll have to do better."

His body dissolved into smoke, which was a decidedly freaky sight. He rose like an evil angel made entirely of smoke. The sight gave Y/n the strangest sense of déjà vu.

"You're a ventus," Jason said. "A storm spirit."

Dylan laughed. "I'm glad I waited, demigod. Leo and Piper I've known about for weeks. Could've killed them any time. But my mistress said two more were coming, said they were special. She'll reward me greatly for your deaths."

Four funnel clouds touched down, two on either side of Dylan, each of them turning into venti-ghostly young men with smoky wings and eyes that flickered with lightning.

“Oh great,” Y/n muttered to herself, clutching the key in her hand. “just fucking great. It wasn’t enough one wind-man, it had to come four more, because life is already great.”

Piper was still down, pretending to be incapacitated, but she looked determined to fight. Jason stood tall, like a warrior, staring at the five venti without a shred of fear in his eyes. But he was unarmed - there was no way he could take on the storm spirits without a weapon.

A weapon.

Y/n frowned, looking down at the key that was still in her hand. She took a closer look, and it had something that looked a lot like an insignia. She didn’t know what it meant, but she swiped her thumb over the inscriptions on the metal. She blinked, and the key was gone.

In its place was a sword made entirely of gold.

Dylan frowned, a look of angry confusion flashing through his stormy eyes. "Where did you get that?" he demanded.

Who knows, Y/n thought. But I'm definitely not complaining.

She moved into a familiar stance, her eyes settled on Dylan's smoky form. Just as she was about to charge toward him, Dylan raised his hand, arcs of electricity running between his fingers. Y/n barely had time to be scared before Jason was pushing her out of the way, the lightning bolt meant for her blasting through his chest.

Y/n watched in horror as the blond boy she'd woken up next to barely an hour ago flew backward, taking a hit that had been meant for her. A single spot on her chest blazed like she'd been branded, filling her with fury. She looked back at Dylan, releasing a furious shout as she charged toward him and his storm spirit companions, vengeance moving her limbs forward.

She met the closest storm spirit head-on, her body agile as she thrust her sword at the spirit, the thing in question just barely getting out of the way. Y/n feigned right, then moved left and stabbed her sword through the smoky mass in front of her. To her amazement, the storm spirit dissolved into some kind of golden powder.

Dylan shouted something, his tone furious. Y/n ignored him as another ventus charged her. She planted her feet and brought her arms close to her chest, gritting her teeth as she felt the cold wind wash over her. It only pushed her back a foot before the gust passed her, and she charged at the spirit again, moving like she was a dancer performing a piece she'd done so many times it was muscle memory. Her sword pierced through the spirit and it, too, turned into gold dust.

“Suck it!” She shouted excitedly.

A few feet away, Piper was trying to fend off the other two storm spirits, but they were dancing around her, toying with her. Y/n moved to go help her, but a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Stop." Y/n looked back in shock to see Jason rising unsteadily to his feet. His shirt was covered in soot, and he was missing a shoe, but all in all, he looked pretty good for a guy who'd just been struck by lightning.

“What the fu-” Y/n began, for the second time. And, for the second time, Dylan interrupted her.

"How are you alive?" Dylan demanded, his form flickering. "That was enough lightning to kill twenty men!"

"My turn," Jason said, a lethal look in his eyes. Y/n watched him reach into his pocket, taking out a gold coin and flipping it in the air. It transformed into a gold sword, not too different from the one Y/n’s key had turned into.

Dylan snarled in agitation, backing up. He looked at the two remaining spirits and yelled, "Well? Kill him!"

The spirits left Piper alone, flying at Jason with their fingers crackling with electricity. He took the first one out within seconds, his gold sword turning it into dust.

The second let loose a bolt of lightning, but Jason's sword absorbed the charge. With one quick thrust, the second spirit was reduced to dust as well.

Dylan wailed in outrage. "Impossible!" he shouted over the wind. His glare flickered from Jason to Y/n, settling on Jason. "Who are you, half-bloods?"

“Who cares? I’m better than you.” Y/n said, smirking, proposedly cutting Jason off the sentence.

Piper looked stunned. "Y/n, Jason, how...?"

Coach Hedge leaped onto the skywalk, dumping Leo before bellowing, "Spirits, fear me!" Then he looked around and realized Dylan was the only one left.

"Curse it, boy," he snapped at Jason. "Didn't you leave some for me? I like a challenge!"

Y/n frowned, a little peeved the faun thought Jason killed all four of the storm spirits by himself.

"Hey, I took out just as many as he did," she muttered.

Leo got to his feet, breathing heavily. "Yo, Coach Supergoat, whatever you are - I just fell down the freaking Grand Canyon! Stop asking for challenges!"

Dylan hissed at him, but there was fear in his eyes. Or whatever those were.

"You have no idea how many enemies you've awakened, half-bloods. My mistress will destroy all demigods. This war you cannot win."

Above them, the storm exploded into a full-force gale.

Cracks expanded in the skywalk, sheets of rain pouring down on them. If Y/n hadn't been cold before, she was fucking freezing now. Especially because she was too proud to wear Jason’s purple sweatshirt.

A hole opened up in the clouds, and Dylan looked up at it. "The mistress calls me back!" he shouted with glee. "And you, demigod, will come with me!"

He lunged at Jason, but Y/n moved fast, pushing Jason to the side and raising her sword to attack. The spirit yelled with rage, letting loose a torrent that knocked them all backward. The worst of it hit Y/n. The wind knocked her sword out of her hand, and she watched it clatter noisily to the glass floor of the skywalk. Her back hit the railing and she lost her balance, tumbling over. She managed to grab the railing with her left hand as she hung over the abyss below her.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, she chanted internally.

She closed her eyes tightly, the tears rapidly making their way into her eyelids.

She could hear her name being screamed, could hear the unmistakable grunts and shouting of a fight, but she was a little busy trying to keep her faltering grip on the railing to pay her surroundings much attention.

Her fingers slipped, and with a shout in a language that did not sound like English, she was plummeting to her death.

She couldn’t move. She just accepted her fate, the upcoming death. Her clothes and hair were flying in the opposite direction, and she could only hope that, maybe, dying wouldn’t hurt as much as she thought it did. She didn’t scream. She just... let it happen.

She wondered briefly if she was hallucinating when she saw Jason diving off the skywalk after her, rocketing down to her. She wasn’t. He tackled Y/n’s waist and pulled her close to his chest.

Great, he’s stupid enough and now we're both gonna die, she thought.

But to her astonishment, the wind suddenly died around them. She opened her eyes, the tears still flowing down her face, seeing Jason's face a few inches above hers, his eyes shut tightly. They were hovering in the air about fifty feet above the river at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Y/n breathed. His eyes opened, and he looked around them, taking in their position with wide blue eyes.

"Whoa," he whispered, his gaze moving to meet Y/n’s. She wanted to hug him, even if the only thing she remembered was hating him. Y/didn't remember ever meeting Jason, but she knew him. She couldn't explain how, but she did. And she did not like him.

Jason looked up. The rain had stopped, and the storm clouds seemed to have calmed a little. He looked back at Y/n. "Hold onto me," he told her, repositioning himself so he was hugging her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to ignore how inexplicably right the closeness with him felt.

Jason looked up again, and they suddenly surged toward the sky. He held her tight as they flew back up to the skywalk. As soon as their feet touched the skywalk, they ran to Piper and Leo.

Piper stared at Y/n and Jason as if they'd turned into horrifying mutants during their trip into the Grand Canyon. "How did you...?"

"Apparently, I can fly," Jason said quietly.

“And I'm afraid of heights.” Y/n muttered. "Is he okay?" She asked Piper, looking at Leo, whose curly hair was covered in gold dust.

Before Piper could answer, Leo muttered, "Stupid... ugly... goat."

"Where did he go?" Jason asked.

Leo pointed straight up. "Never came down. Please tell me he didn't actually save my life."

"Twice," Jason told him.

Leo groaned even louder. "What happened? The tornado guy, those gold swords... I hit my head. That's it, right? I'm hallucinating?"

The look on Piper's expression seemed like she wanted to agree.

Jason walked over to where his sword was, picking it up and flipping it. Mid-spin, it shrank back into a gold coin and landed in his palm.

Jason picked up Y/n’s sword. He handed it to her, and she took it, not gratefully, looking at it for a moment. She took a closer look at the hilt, and the same insignia that was in the key was in her sword. She slipped the pad of her thumb over it, and it turned back to a key.

"Yep," Leo said. "Definitely hallucinating."

Piper looked at Y/n as if she'd never seen her before - so not much different to how Ophelia had looked at her when she first woke up. "Those things-"

"Venti," Ophelia said. "Storm spirits."

"Okay. You acted like... like you'd seen them before."

She looked from Y/n to Jason. "Who are you guys?"

Jason shook his head. "That's what we've been trying to tell you. We don't know."

The storm dissipated above them. The other kids from the Wilderness School were staring out the glass doors in horror as security guards worked on the locks. It didn't look like they were having much luck.

"Coach Hedge said he had to protect four people," Jason said. "I think he meant us."

"And that thing Dylan turned into..." Piper shuddered. "God, I can't believe it was hitting on me. He called us... what, demigods?"

Leo laid down, staring up at the sky. "I don't know what demi means, but I'm not feeling too godly. You guys feeling godly?"

"Not particularly," Ophelia admitted.

There was a sound like twigs snapping, and the cracks in the skywalk began to widen.

"We need to get off this thing," Jason said. "Maybe if we—"

"Ooo-kay," Leo interrupted. "Look up and tell me if those are flying horses."

Y/n looked up to see a dark shape descending from the east. As it got closer, she saw a pair of winged horses, with massive wingspans. They pulled a brightly colored chariot behind them, and there were two figures inside of it.

“What the fuck?” Y/n said, finally concluding her thought.

"Reinforcements," Jason said, meeting Y/n’s eyes. For the first time, she didn’t pull away. "Hedge told me an extraction squad was coming for us."

"Extraction squad?" Leo struggled to his feet with Piper's help. "That sounds painful."

"And where are they extracting us to?" Piper asked.

The chariot landed on the far end of the skywalk. The flying horses seemed uneasy as they stepped on the glass, as if they knew it was about to break. Two teenagers stood in the chariot - a tall blonde girl and a bulky guy with a buzzcut. They both wore jeans and obnoxious orange T-shirts with some kind of logo on the front. The girl leaped off before the chariot had even finished moving, pulling a knife and running toward their group as the guy reined in the horses.

"Where is he?" the girl demanded, her gray eyes fierce and intimidating.

"Where's who?" Jason asked.

She frowned like his answer was unacceptable. She turned to Leo and Piper. "What about Gleeson? Where is your protector, Gleeson Hedge?"

Leo cleared his throat. "He got taken by some... tornado things."

"Venti," Y/n said. "Storm spirits."

The blonde girl arched an eyebrow at her. "You mean anemoi thuellai? That's the Greek term." Her gaze flickered from Y/n to Jason. "Who are you, and what happened?"

Y/n let Jason explain. When he was done, the blondie didn't look satisfied. "No, no, no! She told me he would be here. She told me if I came here, I'd find the answer."

"Annabeth," the guy with the buzzeut grumbled, having joined them halfway through Jason's explanation. He pointed at Jason's feet. "Check it out."

Jason's left shoe was still missing, having been blown off by the lightning bolt he took to the chest.

"The guy with one shoe," the guy said. "He's the answer."

"No, Butch," the girl – Annabeth - insisted. "He can't be. I was tricked." She glared at the sky as if it had personally offended her. "What do you want from me?" she screamed. "What have you done with him?"

The skywalk beneath them shuddered.

"Annabeth," Butch said, "we gotta leave. Let's get these guys to camp and figure it out there. Those storm spirits might come back."

"Fine," Annabeth muttered. She fixed Jason with a resentful glare, and Y/n bristled, moving to clutch her key in her pocket.

The girl turned on her heel and marched back to the chariot.

"What's her problem?" Piper asked. "What's going on?"

"Seriously," Leo agreed.

"We have to get you out of here," Butch said. "I'll explain on the way."

"That girl looks like she wants to kill Jason," Y/n muttered, eyeing the girl's distant figure with distrustful eyes. “Don’t really judge. I’d want to do that too.”

Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay," he assured them. "You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem."

"What problem?" Piper asked.

"She's been looking for one of our campers, who's been missing three days," Butch said, his expression grim.

"She's going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he'd be here."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"Her boyfriend," Butch said. "A guy named Percy Jackson."

#⛧° i hate you more.#all my love 🍀#postcards from leah #jason grace #jason grace x y/n #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace series

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wonuwrites · 3 days

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Love Me Anyway Song Reaction (Performance Unit)

this is from this anon request xo I love this song so much and so happy anon showed me a cute new song :D

vocal unit || performance unit || hip hop unit

Warnings: some body confidence issues again in Jun's, smidge angst in Minghao's, cussing, mostly fluffy though.

Just like other song preferences, members drabbles will be in order of the song lyrics. Also some lyrics will be similar to vocal units and tbh I'm not sorry. I feel like I made them different enough <3

ok enjoy :D

ღ Jun: "And I love you because you're understanding when I'm too shy to show my skin."

You sighed as you looked at all the clothes on your floor. You were packing for your annual girls trip but all the clothes you bought when you were with the girls just made you feel so self conscious and made you want to take some scissors to some parts. As you were starting to spiral, Jun walked into your shared room and raised an eyebrow at the mess. "Nothing looks good on me, baby." You would sigh before falling onto your shared bed. This would make him scoff before picking up some of the clothes. He knew fighting over how true that statement was useless when it came to you feeling this way so he decided just to be there for you physically. He would just kiss your forehead and lay next to you. "Do-do you want one of my shirts when you go?" You would almost cry because he knew that you found comfort in his clothes and you were just so thankful for him.

ღ Hoshi: "Sometimes I forget, wasn't always this way. It's hard to admit I was the one to blame."

You sat on the couch in the practice room and watched Soonyoung and the rest of Seventeen practice for their upcoming tour. Even if there were thirteen extremely talented and handsome guys in front of you, Soonyoung caught your eye the most. You smiled as you watched him do what he loved doing and couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to be his. You both were so happy and made time for each other even if schedules were packed. You both made each other a priority. Sometimes it feels like it's always been this way but you knew it wasn't. In fact, you used to be super against the idea. You thought Soonyoung was a great guy but dating an idol? That would be awful. You ignored his advances for months until he basically got onto his knees and said "(Y/N), please. Just one chance. Let me change your mind. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it magical." Which he did. Hell even when it came out that you were dating, Carats were super supportive and even joked with Soonyoung that they liked you more. He would act offended but he couldn't blame them. You were an absolute catch and every day he thanked the universe for allowing you to give him a chance.

ღ Dino: "I love you because when I say "I don't wanna talk" you always call me.

You can't help it, you are a little over dramatic. Ok, maybe A LOT dramatic. What can you say though? It's in your DNA. It's something you try to work on but sometimes, it just happens. Just like tonight, you can't even explain what Chan did but it just set you off where you thought you might want space. You walked out of the bar that you were with Chan and the rest of Seventeen and waited for your uber to come and get you. You hadn't told anyone you were leaving including Chan so it wasn't a shock when he started to spam your phone with calls and texts. [10:13 Channie: "where did you go?"] You sighed and noticed your uber pulled up to you. You said hello to the driver before getting in and responding. [10:14 Y/N: "just got into an uber, I'm going home for the night. I don't wanna talk tho. goodnight."] You then put your phone on do not disturb before looking out the window. However, even with DND activated, you still felt your phone vibrating with texts and calls from Chan. You were about a block away from your apartment when you finally answered your boyfriend. "Chan-" "(Y/N), I just need to know you're safe, if we are okay, if I need to kick someones ass, if you still love me," you heard him ramble on and on which made you smile a bit. You honestly couldn't remember why you were upset with him and you assured him that you still loved him and that you were almost home.

ღ Minghao: "After all this time, you were right. Can we take more Polaroids for you to hide."

Fighting with Minghao was never fun because you both got super emotionally invested in your fights. It was emotionally exhausting to try to not be sad because of what happened and figure out how to solve the problem. This time around, you realized quickly that there was no need for a "solution" just a simple apology which was all he asked for. You decided after work you would just apologize. When you got home you were a little surprised to find polaroids "hidden" around your shared home. With sticky notes explaining each picture or reasons why he loved you. After finding about five Polaroids you couldn't help but feel tears fall down your cheeks. You realized Minghao was feeling a similar way to the fight and this was his way of saying "I don't want to fight anymore because look what we have, it's good." You found a few more before you realized he was right behind you with a soft smile. He had been following you around since you got there but you were so caught up in memory lane you didn't realize. "hey," he whispered while grabbing your hands. "I'm sorry," you whispered while pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry too," he whispered back before kissing the top of your head. "can we take more Polaroids soon?" This caused him to giggle before agreeing.

this was so soft. ty again anon <3

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canmargesimpson · 3 days

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Chapter 2:

Chapter 1

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

April 30, 1996.

Eddie, who was at his studio, sat on his piano with some pens and papers, trying to figure out how the bridge of his new song should go. He spent hours, repeating over and over the melody but then stopping at the same part, since it felt like nothing could ever continue it. As if there was no follow up to the story he was writing, like if in the middle of the book the protagonist died and there was no more story at all. It frustrated him so much, he was scratching his head nervously, biting his nails and even smashing the piano tiles whenever he tried to even continue the song. Nothing seemed to work. So when his Motorola cell phone rang, he thanked god to be able to get away from the monster that has become his piano.

“Hello?”

“Eddie!” Steve’s voice called from the over side, in a quite excited way that grabbed the man's attention quickly

“Baby? Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” he asked

“Lunch break”

“Lunch break? But it's like 10 in the morning?”

“Eddie, it's 2… have you been in the studio all day?” the shift in steve’s voice knew that if he said yes the answer would bring him trouble

“No?”

“Eddie! I’ve told you it's not healthy to spend an entire morning locked in a room with only a piano and a guitar! Go eat something, or even just go to the bathroom”

Eddie huffed knowing that Steve hated the fact Eddie spent an entire day writing and not even eating, but everytime he was there, it felt like time moved faster somehow.

“I know, I'm sorry, I'm gonna grab my jacket now and leave to go eat something alright? Now what are you calling me for?” eddie asked as he stood up from the piano stool and walked to the the little table besides the door and grab his keys

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Steve’s disappointed and warning tone changed to a giddy one which turned Eddie's heart around “So remember I told you I was gonna talk to my colleague, Sarah, whose cousin works at the Orphanage? Well, i got in contact with the director of the place, and told me we could go next Friday at 4”

“Wait really?” eddie stopped his tracks as he walked out of the studio department

“Yes!” he exclaimed “there are about 23 kids, the age ranges are form 2-15 year old”

“I'm not adopting a two year old human, sorry” Eddie laughed nervously. He still won't be completely in love with the idea of a kid in their house, but at least he could hold a 10 minute conversation with a 6 year old. And that was progress

“I know” Steve sighed a laugh “so i told her that probably a kid from 6-12, and that we don’t really have anything in mind”

“Wait” Eddie thanked God that there was no one else in that elevator with him at this moment “you told her about… us? Like… the fact that we…”

“Are a same sex marriage? Yes'' and with that eddie sighed loudly “ she told me that she has had a lot of queer parents adopting, so it's definitely not a problem, we just need to make sure we are suitable for taking care of a minor”

“And how-”

“It's an interview. And before you panic, no, it's not about knowledge about children” another loud sigh came from eddie “it's about it we are… responsible and economically okay to take care of a child. Then they are coming to our house to make sure the kid is gonna live in a safe and decent house. It's just regular procedure”

“Wow'' Eddie smiled, quite shocked that this might be finally happening. They might be finally adopting a kid “and how long to like… get the kid”

The other line went dead. Eddie couldn't even hear Steve’s breathing. Just by this reaction, he knew the answer was not gonna be pleasant.

“Steve?”

“Umm…. they said about…. 6 to…. 18 months?”

“18 Months!?” Eddie exclaimed loudly “Steve!”

“I know!!” he whines back

“I'm gonna be gone! Tour starts in a year and- what if i’m not there? What if the child comes into the home, and i'm not there and then when i come home they hate me? What if something happens to them or me, and I never get to meet them! Steve-”

“Eddie i know! I just… We’ve been waiting for such a long time…. There is hope that maybe it could be less. They say that if it works perfectly, it can be at least 6 months”

“For me to leave in six months? Not to forget, this tour is long, and then i have to do interviews and shit I- steve…” Eddie breathed loudly “I don’t want you to do this alone, because you and I both know it sucks not having a parent around, and I'm letting that kid go through this. I don't wanna be like you dad! I don’t want to leave for over a year, and then just come around to say happy birthday or merry christmas and then leave again! And with the new album-”

“Eddie you would never be like my father you hear me? Never.” Steve sternly said as he sat up from his desk chair to look at the window to where the kids were playing football “I just… maybe… you should just… not release the album maybe?” Steve knew he was on thin ice now.

“Not- Are you crazy?! I’ve been working my ass off with Gareth for almost 2 years now! We can’t just postpone! This is super important for me Steven, I can't just drop my entire work for a kid!”

And the line went dead. In both ends, the men were holding the phones to their ear with eyes closed looking at the floor trying to somehow make this better. To somehow change the entire universe so they could be happy and all could fit. But they can’t. So when Eddie heard the 3 beeps of the dead line, he knew he fucked up and real bad this time.

He left for a Chinese restaurant and bought the usual. He walked back to his studio, and sat back again at the piano while he ate his chicken quietly. And then it hit him. The melody of the song suddenly crashed into him like a train and it all made sense. The story does continue, and this little rocky path made him stumble. But once he placed both hands on the keyboard the story seemed to write itself as he just played along with only one thing on his mind.

Steve.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #steddie parents #dad steddie #rockstar eddie x teacher steve #steddie angst #steddie dads #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie parents saga!

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lunicho · 19 hours

Note

Here r my thoughts !! I hope they’re ok bc I’m really sleepy rn so idk if they make sense lololll

K: def a dom

- like I CANT see him as a sub

- If u try to make him submissive he’ll just mock u n make fun of the things u say when ur with him

- You: “Stop making fun of me”

- K: “I thought this was normal sub behavior 😋😋”

Fuma: soft dom

- likes taking care of you n worries about ur pleasure first

- If u want to be the dominant one he doesn’t mind and let’s u

- Subby Fuma tho…mmm tastyyy

- a soft dom but can be a mean one if he’s feeling extra possessive

Nico: switch (or is it called vers? Like versatile? I forgot 😟)

- a little controversial(/j) but I’ll d!e on this hill

- He tries to be the dominant one all the time but if he goes more than 2 days without ur pussy he’s on his knees begging for you and is at your mercy

- He just wants to be good to you so he’ll want to be in control but every now and again he wants to be taken care of and have you make him feel so good

EJ: service top with a sprinkle of sub

- As much as I love subby Juju and making him tear up I see him more as a service top but the subby parts of him comes out and he ends up falling apart bc u feel so good around him when he was supposed to put you first

- I looooooveeee service top juju

Yuma: MEAN DOMMMMM

- he is MEAN

- He makes FUN OF YOU

- But the dick is so good you’ll only go to him (so basically the mean dom Yuma you always talk about LOL)

- He’s actually not mean which is the funny part 😭 when y’all aren’t having sex he’s so chill and easy to hang out with 😭 he just likes seeing you cry and whimper as he fucks you and calling you names is the fastest way to do it LOL

- I KNOW the jealous sex is so good bc he gets jealous and possessive so easily so if another man tries to make a move on you he is FUMING and he needs to fuck you as fast as possible

Jo: sub

- pov: ur at the “I love sub!Jo” contest and ur opponent is me 😋😋😋😋

- Sub!Jo is so beautiful in my mind like him just laying down while i have my mouth on him PLEASEEE

- He likes it when you praise him omfg praise kink Jo 😵‍💫 but that’s for another time

- Tbh I see him as the type of guy that’ll do anything for you so you can praise him

Harua: switch

- as you know I’m a switch!Harua truther

- This section won’t be long since I already talked about it it

- But bratty sub Harua 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- Sassy dom Harua who knows how to control you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Taki: switch but u HAVE to hear me out

- every time I think of Taki most of the time it’s just pretty shiny sub Taki who wants all of your attention on him

- The type to D!E if you don’t take care of him and his raging boner /j

- Whines a lot 😵‍💫

- BUT LISTEN

- Recently…him and his “morality police” bit where he’s (playfully) telling the members to cover up and not wear revealing outfits

- Makes me think of mean dom Taki 😵‍💫 where you wear revealing and skimpy outfits to mess with him and he fucks you harddddd bc he knows you’re just trying to get his attention and to rile him up

Overall I also think that they’re all really possessive with the exception of Jo but those thoughts haven’t marinated long enough in my brain yet 😙

-😵‍💫

HOPE U GOT SOME REST BOO THANG, u came and u served and now its time for u to get the rest u so rightfully deserve bc this right here ‼️‼️

kei - okay so i do agree, he most often takes on a dominant role just because he enjoys it and it comes so naturally for him. BUT i had a convo with one of my moots (shout out mel 🙏🏾) where we explored the idea of subby kei and i think he's in there somewhere. he has the potential to be submissive but may not know how to go about it or how to commit to that fully which is why he'd rather be all snappy and mean and mock u about it and in other words that's why he kinda acts like a brat 🤷🏾‍♀️. but dom kei is so so real there's no denying that ☝🏾😌

fuma - YES. everyone who read my fuma a-z knows i agree cuz like duh, he's so soft dom to me but he has a love for being the submissive one. he may not be THE MOST submissive guy out there but being under u and being doted on is something he enjoys thoroughly. but yeah like u said ur his baby and his top priority so he loves taking care of u <3 subby fuma is incredibly delicious to think about if im so fr like idk

nico - i giggled. SWITCH NICHO IS SO REAL TO ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. ppl are too scared to play around with the idea of subby nicho but COME ONNNN u can't tell me this man wouldn't look and sound so good when he's getting edged and ur sucking him off or jerking him off or riding him like i can hear it so clearly in my mind how he'd suck in a breath thru his teeth and how he'll grunt and groan sm and how- yeah. also pussy obsessed nicho?? hello??? him not being able to be without pussy is so true i could say sm abt that but imma move on for everyone sake

juju - the way when i read his section the first time i went "NOOOOOO" but then i read it again and was like,,, oh wait kinda true tho. he leans so subby cuz of how well he listens and how obedient he is. he'll let u use him and grind against his face/ride his face, he'll let u pull his hair and get yourself off using his tongue like 😞. he's a service top cuz he likes making u feel good but i will never deny sub juju. i will never deny how pathetically hard he gets sometimes and how he Will tear up in front of u quicker than either of u could even process 😞

yuma - EXACTLY LMAOHSJS he's not actually mean or crazy at all like he is during sex which is what makes it hotter cuz he's so versatile. i do think that he can change up a lot and he can be soft and sweet at times too but he's just a rough sex enjoyer what can i say 🤷🏾‍♀️. i do wish ppl would fuck around with the idea of sub yuma more tho cuz i need people to feed me those thoughts like i wanna hear what ppl say so bad 😞 (teamies dom, sub, switch analysis but it's just me wanting people to explore the idea of sub teamies) AND THE JEALOUS SEX?? big yes he's sooo jealous and possessive sometimes like it's crazy 💔

jo - ?!?!?!?!?! $! $;! #;#;#? +#(#) #+#-(# like what like ?!?! $? ;$? $+($-# and why have u never come to my inbox abt sub jo?? didn't even know this was an agenda u had wtf??? LITERALLY okay. okay. let me control myself. i see him as a sub as well and i see him as the type who's a little naive but not necessarily in a bad way. he's just the type to follow you so blindly just bc ur his partner and he wants to do anything to please you so he can be ur good boy 😞 i could see the dom jo agenda but it's smth abt sub jo that feels so true to him 😞 he's so cute ugh

harua - yes 😞 i am aware of your switch rua agenda 🙏🏾 and honestly i think it's quite accurate i just cannot fully process harua as a dom like it just won't register in my mind so i always just think of him as a sub. and i always feel like he's not really like a brat he's just kinda moody and super needy and if he ever is bratty it's cuz of him acting up for your attention 😞

taki - ??!?!?!!!!! $;! $:$? $($(($$ okay so?!?!? fuck i literally agree like FUCKK 😭 taki can be so submissive to the point where if u told him to get on all fours and bark then he fucking would. this man will do anything for some pussy like im being so fr. he just might fall over and die if u haven't made him cum in a little while cuz he's like erm hello??? but he's such a good sub like genuinely 😞 but as a dom?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫 can't even properly process the thoughts that are happening in my mind but i just know he's rough and mean like u said, a little controlling too if im so so honest with u ohhh em geeeee. like maybe he only rlly doms on specific occasions or like maybe u both just switch often cuz i could see him needing someone who's willing to switch up regularly depending on your moods yk? (FUCK HOW'D THIS PARAGRAPH GET SO LONG??? i feel like i didn't even say anything 😭)

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rainowbenstyls · 10 months

Text

little illustrations inspired by this gorgeous piece of work by @tippitytap :D

DO NOT REPOST!

#this author is AMAZING please read their work bc its just TOO GOOD #this little idea came to my mind when i got to that part of the story and i felt the strongest urge to draw and BOOM #they could be better ngl i made lots of versions and im still figuring how to do whole ass scenes but im getting there i think lol #also... is it too dark? did you have to brighten up your screen to the max? feel free to tell me #anyways read this fic its beautiful:D #digital #colored #tracksintheam #trackinghome #hlcreators #larry stylinson fanart #harry styles fanart #louis tomlinson fanart

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gojorgeous · 4 months

Text

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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illyrianbitch · 3 months

Text

And I'm Thinking About Your Lips

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! like porn with plot aka: best friends to lovers, sexual tension, alcohol use, drunken handsy moments, two dummies in love, male masturbation, unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, sex sex sex! we love sex!!

Word Count: 19k (a biggie!)

a/n: heavily inspired by my fav song mistakes like this by prelow. give it a listen for the vibes ;) I was going to make this multiple parts but decided against it. lets imagine Rita's like a lil more modern club okay mwuah enjoy.

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rita's was loud.

On busy nights like these, the place was a complete sensory overload– live music with thumping bass and swirling laughter. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sweat, perfume, and the occasional waft of arousal, a delicious smell that often lingered in Rita’s. You loved nights like these, loved the energy that came with finally being able to let go. You let out a content sigh as you watched people dance across the dimly lit club, enjoying the music that vibrated through their bones.

You stood next to Cassian at the bar, leaning against the smooth surface as you awaited the drinks you had ordered. He was in the middle of telling you a story-- or at least you think it was a story. You couldn't tell.

"What?" you exclaimed loudly, leaning forward in a futile attempt to decipher his response. Frustration etched across your face, you took a step back, gazing up at Cassian. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shook your head while gesturing emphatically to your ears. "I can't hear," you mouthed, hoping he'd understand.

Cassian's initial confusion gave way to realization, his mouth forming a distinct "Ooooh." Leaning down, he bridged the distance between you, his lips hovering above your ear to deliver his words in a loud whisper.

And then it happened—a giggling drunk couple bumped into Cassian, disrupting his balance. His lips, which had initially hovered near your ears, now made a brief but intimate contact, running along the shell of your ear.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, the warmth permeating your entire body. Or perhaps it was the pulsating energy of the crowded dancefloor. Whatever it was, you felt it—a shiver tracing a path down your neck, following the curve of your spine. Awareness dawned on you—his proximity, his breath on your ears, the almost electric closeness of your cheeks, the way his disheveled hair framed his face.

He pulled away, a smile playing on his lips. He mouthed something, but you were lost in a daze, barely registering that those plump, red lips were actually forming words.

"Y/n?" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "You got that?"

Blinking, you shook your head, dispelling the lingering traces of your thoughts. A smile curved on your lips as you replied, "Yup."

You had no idea what he said, hadn't caught a word of what he was whispering in your ear. But at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. Internally, you chastised yourself— it's just the alcohol, that's all it is. After all, Cassian had always been attractive. You just happened to be drunk and noticed it a little bit more. Appreciating the beauty of your best friend, completely platonically.

The bartender returned with your ordered drinks, placing them on the bar with a lingering gaze that hinted at an appreciation for more than just the cocktail he had crafted—one directed entirely at you. Your attention, however, was occupied by the lively atmosphere around you as you spared the bartender a quick glance, grabbing your drink. Cass, on the other hand, picked up on the admiration, staring at the bartender and tucking away the information in the back of his mind.

As you both turned to leave, Cassian's movements synchronized with yours and his arm rubbed against your own, sending a subtle brush of warmth through you. You paused for a beat. The warmth was still there. You hated it. A realization dawned – you needed more alcohol.

With a silent determination, you gave Cassian a "one moment" gesture, holding up a finger. Cass watched as you turned back toward the bar, leaning forward to catch the bartender's attention. When he turned to face you, you placed your hand lightly over his.

"Actually," you said with a smile, “Can we get two extra shots? Of your strongest."

The bartender gave you a smile back and nodded in acknowledgment. In no time, two additional shots, robust and potent, joined the lineup, arranged neatly on the polished surface. Cassian frowned, flickering his gaze between you and the shots. You felt his presence as he leaned in and instinctively took a step back, not turning to look him in the eyes.

“We’re taking another round?”

“Nope.” You said, popping the p. Without hesitation, you downed them both with a practiced ease. Finally, you looked up at him, making a face as the liquor made its way down your throat. “Those were for me.” Your voice came out in a croak.

Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“Someone is getting hammered tonight."

You simply nodded, a nonchalant "mhmm" escaping your lips. The alcohol ignited a warmth that spread through your veins, momentarily overshadowing any reservations. With the edge taken off, you were ready to rejoin your friends– with the exception of Amren, who was “too busy” to join tonight.

Cassian led the way back to the booth, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of your back. Cass always did this when at Ritas, a gesture to ensure that you weren’t swept away by the sea of people. Yet, this time, it felt different. As he guided you through the lively crowd, you couldn't ignore the heat that radiated from his touch. Your heart quickened its pace. Its the alcohol-induced haze, you told yourself. Thats all.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Two hours later, Rita’s was still pulsating with energy and you were absolutely wasted. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to blend seamlessly with the warmth of your intoxication and everything around you seemed to echo with life.

You, Mor, and Feyre slowly returned to the booth for a much-needed break, hands interlaced with one another and glasses still full, waiting to be enjoyed. In your inebriated state, you teetered back and forth as you made your way to the booth, plopping down next to your best friend.

At your arrival, Cassian sat up right, waiting for you to do what you always did—lay your head on his shoulder. And, like clockwork, you fell into place, your head finding its familiar spot on Cassian's shoulder.

"Look who decided to join the land of the living," Cassian teased as he nudged you gently. You felt him adjust his seating, his wings moving to accommodate your presence. The booths at Rita’s were large, the seats extra wide and spacious— for many reasons. You didn’t think too long about the ways people used the extra space.

Instead, you chuckled at Cassian’s comment, the alcohol-infused haze making everything seem delightfully amusing. "Jus' exploring alternate universes on the danceflooooooor."

The sound of your voice and the way you dragged out your words set Cassian into a small fit of laughter, a rich melody that blended with the music. The sound vibrated through his body and you felt his chest and his shoulders rise with it. The laughter resonated in your own as a result.

"Alternate universes, huh?” He asked, “That why you were grinding on Mor like a horned-up teenager?"

Craning your head slightly to look up at him, you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. He was already looking at you, his face tilted to the side to meet your eyes. There was a clear sense of amusement written into his face, the corners of his mouth turned up, a certain glow in his eyes.

"I was not! How dare you judge me?" With a determined glint in your, now narrowed, eyes you added, "I never judge how you practically dry hump every woman you dance with."

Your best friend's lips curled into a grin, and his eyebrows lifted for a moment. There was a playful roll of his lips before he nodded, slightly chuckling. You got him there.

"Okay, whatever."

You watched as he took a sip of his drink with his other hand, then lowered it to rest the glass on his knee. Leaning back a bit, a small giggle escaped your lips at nothing in particular. Then, you let out a laugh.

"You're wasted." Cassian stated matter of factly, turning his head to look at where yours lay on his shoulder. Your laughter continued for a moment, ending with a sound of content.

"Maybe." You replied as you leaned back a little, your head lolling backwards. Your eyes, framed by thick lashes, found Cassian's. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his face, his intense gaze focused on you.

"You're real attractive, Cass," you murmured, the words carrying a sincerity that caught him off guard.

Cassian didn't know why his heart leaped at your words. This wasn't something new. You had complimented him multiple times before. He knew he was attractive-- he knew you knew he was attractive. But there was something different this time, something in the way you bit your lip, gnawing at it with your teeth, the genuine look in your eyes.

"You think so?" he said. You wondered how his voice could be so soft, yet so husky. How was that possible?

You nodded lazily, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Mhm," you affirmed.

Cassian's gaze shifted, and suddenly he found himself studying your face. Your head tilted back, he took in the sight of your lips, the stunning makeup enhancing your features. You were gorgeous, he’d always known this-- everyone who saw you thought the same. But you were best friends, and the strength of your bond lessened the urge to explore thoughts of you that went farther than simple observation.

"You're not too bad yourself."

You perked up a bit.

"Yeah?" you asked eagerly.

Cassian gave a chuckle at your enthusiastic reply, noticing the way your eyes lit up behind their drunken haze. But before he could say anything more, Mor appeared, her hands outstretched, ready to pull you back onto the dancefloor.

"Y/n," She said, "Come danceeeee."

You looked up at her, your body slowly moving up right.

"But Cass and I-"

Mor whined.

"Feyre abandoned me for Rhys and Azriel is too busy being a gargoyle."

You snickered at her words, your gaze drifting over to where the Shadowsinger sat across the booth, a small grin on his mouth as he brought his cup to his lips. Then, you looked towards the dance floor, a sea of moving bodies with each person lost in the rhythm of the music. Sure enough, your gaze settled on Feyre and Rhysand, deeply entwined as they danced against one another, their bodies swaying together.

You returned your gaze to Mor, with her outstretched hands and a pouty face. You grinned, and she let out a small shriek of excitement at your wordless answer.

You placed a hand on Cassian's thigh, giving a small pat as you forced yourself up, the other hand in Mor's grasp. Cass held his hands up to stabilize you.

You turned to face him, your body slightly swaying.

"See ya later, Commander."

You gave him a drunken salute, the gesture slow and sloppy, before Mor whisked you away to the dance floor.

Cassian watched your figure as you retreated to the dance floor, unable to look away. He could still feel the lingering warmth on his thigh from where your hand had rested, as if an imprint of your touch had been left behind– he half-expected to undo his pants and find a charred handprint, a mirror image of yours. Your delicate hands, your soft skin, your slender fingers..... the thought sent a jolt of desire through him.

Stop it. Cassian's brain scolded him.

But still, his gaze drifted to where you were lost in the lively throng of bodies. The live music pulsed around you, guiding your movements as you moved with your usual demeanor of grace. The way you swayed to the rhythm, the fluidity of your gestures, it was mesmerizing. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to dance with you the way you were on Mor, without the barriers of friendship. To feel your body pressed against his, to lose himself in the rhythm and the heat that seemed to radiate from both of you.

His eyes trailed your body, taking in every curve and movement, and suddenly, he began to notice the way other males and females were doing the same.

He felt a growing anger stir within him, an emotion he had never felt before, not when it came to you. It was a possessive rage, a primal instinct that told him he needed to protect you from these observers. The bodies around you, their gazes lingering on your body, only fueled the fire within him. They shouldn't be looking at you like that. They weren't worth your time--- weren't worthy of being able to admire you the way they were. He should do some-

His musings were abruptly interrupted by a chuckle from Azriel.

The sound jolted Cassian back to the present, and he turned to find his brother looking at him with an amused expression. Annoyance crept into Cassian's features as he asked,

"What?"

Az's amusement deepened, and he replied nonchalantly, "Nothing."

Although Azriel's response seemed innocent, there was a knowing glint in his eyes, a small smirk that he covered by bringing his cup to his lips. Cass was well aware that Az was hinting at something, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to care. All he could focus on was the uncomfortable heat in his stomach, feeling as if he was suffering from intense heartburn. But funnily enough, the feeling only grew heavier when he looked at you.

Azriel down his drink before grabbing Cassian’s attention.

"Let's get you another drink."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The night had surrendered to the early hours of the morning, casting a dreamlike glow over the city as you and your friends stumbled out of the vibrant chaos that was Rita's. The streets, now filled with the remnants of the night's revelry, echoed with the laughter and inebriated chatter of others who were also bidding farewell to a night spent well.

You walked alongside Cas and Mor, Feyre and Rhysand a few steps ahead. Azriel had left an hour prior; a smug expression adorned his face as he escorted a striking male with brown hair and green eyes-- the very one who had generously bought him drinks throughout the night.

You looked at the mated pair ahead of you, Rhysand's arm draped casually around Feyre’s shoulder. You watched as he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Feyre suddenly stilled and turned around, an evident blush lingering on her cheeks. Rhysand looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, then he turned his gaze toward your group, mirthful mischief etched across his face.

"We're not feeling that well, so we're going to go sleep." Rhysand declared, his words dripping with a level of unseriousness that made you want to laugh. But, not even Rhys could take himself seriously, the corners of his mouth soon turning up to form a pearly-white grin.

Feyre playfully slapped his chest, but the grin on Rhysand’s face grew even wider, brightened by a child-like glee. With a final shared glance, the mated pair left. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how evident the couple’s love was and how much it made you want something similar.

Before you knew it, only you and Cassian were left. Mor, who had been walking side by side with you both, had halted abruptly. A smile played on her lips. "I've got somewhere I want to go," she announced cryptically, winking before disappearing.

The intoxication in your veins rendered winnowing out of the question – too drunk to focus, and Cassian couldn't fly without risking an aerial mishap that involved either vomit or an unexpected plummet. Both options were less than ideal, so you both continued walking, the cool night air beginning to clear the remnants of your alcohol-induced hazes.

Cassian watched as you moved with a certain lightness, the effects of the drinks still lingering in your movements. Suddenly, you spun around, catching him off guard. His hands flew out instinctively, prepared to catch you if you lost your balance, but you paid no attention to the movement. Instead, you looked up at him with a small frown.

"Hey," you began, your words still slightly slurred. "How come everyone's getting some tonight, and here we are, feeling left out?"

He watched you for a moment, your stature, your slow blinks, how intensely you were staring at him. Cassian grinned. His eyes, veiled by a layer of playful charm, fixated on yours.

"Well, I'm right here,” He declared, “Say the word, and I'm all yours, allll night long.”

Cassain ensured that his words were delivered with a teasing tone, a tone he prayed masked the underlying desire he felt. You didn’t notice. All you could focus on was the burning in your chest, the way your heart tugged at his response. This was nothing out of the usual, Cassian flirted with you all the time. Cassian flirted with everyone.

So you let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

"Oh, please. You're such a pig," you retorted playfully, adding a mockingly dramatic eye roll. Then you swallowed, forcing your next words out. "Never. Could you imagine?”

You didn’t want to see his face as he answered the question, too worried that it would hurt you in some way if he reacted appalled and disgusted. So, you turned yourself around and began walking again, focusing on the cobblestone road underneath your feet, at the cold air starting to bite at you.

There was a quiet pause, and then you heard the small laughter of your best friend. He wouldn’t tell you where his mind wandered, now, when he thought of you, wouldn’t acknowledge the hurt that nestled itself quietly in the recesses of his thoughts.

“No. I couldn’t.”

Another pause. Despite being out in the open, breathing in the fresh night air, you began to feel stuffy. A sense of discomfort wrapped itself around you.

"How come you didn't go home with anyone?" You asked. You gnawed at your lip, waiting for his response, observing his reaction from the corner of your eye.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. He stopped to look at you, and you stilled, turning slightly to face him. When he gave you no response, you let out a small sigh.

"Y’know, like that one redhead giving you eyes back at the bar."

You did your best to disguise the subtle irritation lingered in your tone, but beneath it, you felt a sense of bubbling jealousy. How was Cass so unaware? How come you were so aware?

Cassian's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to recall the moment. Panic briefly flickered in his eyes as he realized he hadn't even noticed anyone else, his attention consumed by you. “Ohhh, her?” He finally responded, “Nah, tonight was just about hanging out with all of you. Y’know, family time.”

You felt a smile tugging at your cheeks. Family time didn’t stop Azriel, or Feyre and Rhysand. In your gut, you knew that it hadn’t stopped Mor either, the look on her face as she left screamed of a sudden lustful advance. Cassian’s answer deeply satisfied a part of you, for reasons you couldn't decipher at the moment. Your smile widened when he gave you a fond smile of his own.

“Big ole’ sap.” You teased, affectionately nudging him with your shoulder.

You fell into another comfortable rhythm, walking alongside each other in silence as the echoes of night behind you slowly faded. Cassian could hear you humming faintly to yourself and a warmth filled his chest. You often hummed when you walked. When you were drunk, it was always a guarantee. Cass used to use it as a meter for your sobriety, detecting how drunk you were based on how horrible your humming was. Currently, it sounded angelic. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust his own judgment, not now, not when it came to you. Even as you walked side-by-side, he felt the urge to get you closer, made the effort to ensure your hands swung next to one another— that you bumped into his bicep every now and then as you walked. What was wrong with him? And why did you smell so good?

Cass cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly to look at you.

“So, uh, speaking of people, why didn’t you go home with the bartender?”

You stopped abruptly, caught off guard by question. Cassian, too, halted in his tracks, a subtle maneuver to avoid colliding with your shoulder. Turning to face him, your eyes sought his in the dim light. "The bartender?" Confusion furrowed your brow.

His gaze, laden with an unspoken curiosity, met yours. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

You paused, your thoughts weaving through the blurred memories of the night. Every image was muddled in your mind, a fusion of moving bodies and your hands picking up new drinks. God, how many did you take? You couldn’t remember. Your memory was hazy, unfocussed. There was only one thing in your mind that shone in perfect clarity– only one person. And it wasn’t the bartender.

“Guess I didn’t.” You shrugged.

Cassian thought back to the bartender, a handsome male with short brown hair and blue eyes. The way he had stared at you, the way he had smiled. Cass’s mind found the memory of you reaching over the bar, your hand over the bartender’s, leaning in to request another drink. A flash of your smile. He fought the urge to make a face.

"Yup,” He said, “Gave you eyes the entire night. Half surprised they didn't fall out and follow you home."

He didn’t intend to sound bitter, didn’t mean for it to drip from the words he spoke. He couldn’t help it. But, by the look on your face, you hadn’t noticed. Yet again. Cassian let out a breath. It took a moment for his words to settle into your mind, and then you let out a snicker at the image painted by them. He grinned at the sound.

"Well then, I'm really surprised I didn't notice."

And you were. You were usually good at these things, at recognizing advances. You picked up on lingering gazes and touches that were one second too long. If Cassian was referring to the bartender you were thinking of, then he had been very attractive. On another night, you would have definitely noticed— and definitely taken the opportunity. But not tonight. Tonight was different, felt different.

"Can't blame him," Cassian remarked, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "You are beautiful."

You blinked, your mouth parting slightly in shock. The words sent a flutter to your chest, and you could feel heat on your cheeks. You shook it off, letting out a sound of amusement and disbelief. It came out as a quiet snort. "Shut up."

"Not even mentioning all the males and females that were ogling you while you danced with Mor."

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You were sure that the blush on your cheeks was on full display and only hoped that Cassian would assume it was caused by the chilly night air. You couldn't look at him. Instead, you shook your head, your eyes looking into the distance. Then, you rolled them and scoffed. "Oh, please. Now you’re just lying.”

You felt his eyes on you, still. You slowly moved your head to look at him once more, watching as his expression subtly shifted.

"No, seriously. It's like some couldn't keep their eyes off you."

Cassian's gaze still lingered on you, unexpectedly soft and genuine. His features bathed in a tender glow, a small smile on his lips. His disheveled hair, tousled by the night's breeze, framed his face in a way that made you itch to rake your fingers through. For a moment, time seemed to pause as you stared at your best friend, your eyes tracing the contours of his shoulders and the majestic wings that adorned his back.

You found yourself taking him in for a minute too long, staring like he wasn’t right in front of you. The realization creeped up on you and you quickly looked away, finding somewhere, anywhere other than his gaze, to focus on.

"Well, whatever," You muttered, turning yourself around to continue walking forward. You heard Cassian’s steps pick up behind you. “I’m over being casual. I’m tired of being with lame males who never make me finish, males who are so boring and entitled, males that are so stupid I begin to question my life decisions. All of it.”

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing as he tried to process what you had offhandedly mentioned. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice filled with confusion. "No one has ever made you finish?"

You weren’t paying full attention to what Cassian was saying, too caught up in your own thoughts and monologue about your new aversion to casual hookups. You waved him off, continuing to walk forward.

Cassian's mind raced with thoughts of you and the males you had been with. He pictured you together, each of them trying their best to please you, their faces contorted with effort, their bodies moving in a frenzy. He pictured some outright ignoring your experience, jackknifing again and again, rutting into you like wild animals. But in his mind's eye, you remained distant, your face bored and vacant, making noises for show.

He wanted to growl. He could do better, could give you the pleasure and satisfaction that those males had failed to provide. The thought was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you, to make you feel the way you deserved. Had they truly not taken the time to worship you? To explore your body, pray to it like it was sacred?

His mind painted a picture of you together, your bodies entwined, a room filled with the smell of sex. He saw himself looking into your eyes, his focus on your pleasure. You moaning underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering his name. Cassian. Cassian. The image was intoxicating— he felt a stirring in his cock, a longing that settled heavy in his stomach.

But it was short lived. Quickly, a sense of guilt washed through him, flooding through his veins. Here you were, talking about your life and feelings, and he was imagining you naked, underneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking of this. He should be listening to you, his best friend, and giving you advice. He aggressively shoved his thoughts away, putting a lock on the visions of you that were manifesting in his mind. With a deep breath, he told his deteriorating self-discipline that he could think of those beautiful images later, when it was just him and his hand in the solace of his room.

He found himself grateful that you were walking ahead of him, that the night air provided a distraction, a physical discomfort that could dampen his desires. It was cold out now, the breeze seemingly more nippy. It sobered him up, ridding the effects of the alcohol in his veins and his drunken feelings of lust.

It was cold out. His eyes snapped up to you walking ahead of him, rubbing your arms absentmindedly. You were cold. How had he not realized?

Because you’re a horny prick who can’t seem to remember your place in her life. His mind screamed at him. He knew it was right.

"I just want to find someone who can connect with me on a deeper level. Someone who sees me.” You said with a defeated sigh. You stopped for a minute, looking back as Cassian caught up to you, the war general having fallen behind, distracted by his own thoughts.

Finally reaching you, he gave you a look that you’d never seen before, and you slightly frowned from being unable to read him. But soon, his face softened, and he put his hand on your arm. The touch was tender, despite his large, rough hands, and it sent a warmth throughout your body that combated the cool air.

"Y'know, you could get anyone you wanted."

His voice, sincere and quiet, took the breath out of your lungs.

Well, not anyone. The thought flitted through your mind. You ignored it.

He smiled at you, a warmth in his gaze that set your heart on fire. “Lets get you home.”

Cassian draped his arm around you, his hand rubbing your biceps as you instinctively leaned into the comforting gesture. When his wings flared out and curled around you both, you felt the flutter in your chest again, a faint warm glow. This time, you let it sit.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian's ability to fly gradually returned with the waning effects of the alcohol, and the rest of the way home had been filled with comfortable silence. You felt the familiar comfort of home envelop you the minute you stepped foot inside, and your room called to you, to your aching body and pounding headache.

As soon as you entered, you didn't waste a moment – walking straight to your bed and simply falling face flat, a groan escaping from your lips. You could feel the throbbing in your head, every movement causing a reaction in both your scalp and deep in your stomach, where a growing sense of nausea was brewing.

"You're gonna be in pain in the morning." Cassian remarked with a chuckle, watching your less-than-graceful landing.

You groaned again, the sound muffled by your sheets. A moment passed, and you heard the sound of Cassian removing his shoes, soon followed by a dip in the bed as he settled in and made himself comfortable. He sighed.

"Gods. Your bed is so damn comfortable."

You lifted your head to look at him, his head leaning on your headboard as he breathed softly. He looked so peaceful, no tension in his face or his body, his eyes closed with the ghost of a content smile on his lips.

“You can sleep here tonight,” You said, “If you’d like.”

The offer felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, and you felt vulnerable for proposing the idea. Sure, you and Cassian had slept in the same bed together before, but never when you were attracted to him, turned on by his lips touching your ear. Maybe it was a bad idea. You should send him on his way before he gets too comfortable... right?

Cassian's eyes opened, finding your own. "Really?"

Good ideas be damned.

You nodded. "Just don't hog the bed."

You watched as he smiled and settled himself in further, still clad in his button up and trousers. The pounding in your head had slowly calmed to a dull ache, a momentary relief that you knew was bound to end soon. Taking advantage of it, you made a move to push yourself up and get ready for bed, bracing yourself on your forearms. A wave of nausea ran through you again, and your mind began to conjure up images of every drink you had tonight. You groaned.

“Y/n?”

You let out a deep breath. “Yes?”

Cassian could hear the discomfort in your voice, and he sat up straighter, looking at where you lay at the edge of your bed, your head hanging, slightly tilted downwards towards your bed as your forehead resting on your hands.

“Whats going on?” He said, moving closer to you on the bed. You could feel his body next to your head, his thighs rubbing against your forearms.

“Lots of drinks.” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut. “Too many.”

Cass gave a small chuckle, his hand moving to rest on your head. You felt him run his hand through your hair, felt it settle near your neck, right by your shoulders. He moved it in circular motions.

“Let me help you.” His voice was calm and gentle. For a second, you wondered how he was perfectly fine, but then you remembered how well he could hold his alcohol and how quickly he could sober up, if needed. You felt grateful for the latter as you nodded against your hands.

Cassian stood up and slowly wrapped his arm around your back, settling his hand on your shoulder. Then, with the other, he gently took a hold of your forearm, guiding you up from your hunched position.

You didn’t think much as you let Cass guide you, you could feel him next to you, his arms stabilizing you as he helped you maneuver over to the other side of your bed. The whole world felt like it was moving too fast, as if you were the only thing in slow motion. You simultaneously cursed yourself for tonight while wishing you could teleport to four hours ago when you were wasted and the world was perfect.

“You think you can get out of your dress?” He asked you, as he helped you sit down on your bed.

You nodded, looking up at him with a faint smile. “Yeah. Can you…”

Cassian turned to the armoire your outstretched finger pointed to. He nodded. You closed your eyes for a minute, taking another deep breath as you heard him open a drawer and then close it.

“Here.” His voice was still as smooth as before, calm and gentle. It sent a shiver through your body, and you found your heartbeat quickening. Not now, you scolded yourself, you’re on the verge of vomiting. You needed to get a grip. You grabbed the soft nightgown from his hand and Cassian quickly turned around, giving you some privacy.

Your dress was easy to peel off, the small straps sliding off your shoulders with no resistance. You felt the cool air bite at your exposed chest, and quickly pulled the night stress over your head. Then, you carefully stood up, allowing your dress to slide down your legs, and your nightgown to fall properly on your body.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked at Cassian, his back facing to you, his beautiful wings flared out comfortably. A part of you felt so vulnerable with him now, with the way he was touching you, how you had looked at him tonight. Cassian always helped you when you were drunk, it was nothing new, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you,” You said, looking at Cass as he turned back around. He couldn’t help as his eyes surveyed your body, and he gave you a small grin.

“Oh, how cute.”

You gave him a small glare, smacking his chest with your hand. And then you slowly crawled into your bed, taking note of how Cassian’s hand hovered over your back until you were settled. He grabbed your covers for you, placing them on you.

“I feel like I’m taking care of a child.” He joked, and you let out a little scoff. He only laughed at your response.

“Just take off your clothes and come sleep before I kick you out.”

You could see the restraint in his face as he stifled his laughter. You could already hear it, a joke about you wanting him naked, a tease about taking him to dinner first. But, instead, Cassian let out a quiet laugh. “Okay.”

You burrowed yourself into your bed, closing your eyes and embracing the warmth of the covers, how nice the soft mattress felt on your aching body. Behind you, you heard the sound of pants and a belt falling to the ground, and within seconds, there was a dip in the bed. Cassian’s smell filled your nose and you welcomed it in, a scent that reminded you of peaceful nights and crackling fires.

“Cass?” You said, slowly turning yourself over to face him. You felt him shift, getting comfortable into the bed, and then he was turning to face you as well.

“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice low.

“Thank you.”

You closed your eyes, your nose still filled with the smell of your best friend, his heat radiating onto your skin. You were out within seconds.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The air was charged with the metallic tang of sweat and the rhythmic sounds of swords clashing. It was a sight to behold, truly. Azriel and Cassian were both incredibly skilled in combat and their sparring matches were always your favorite to watch. Not only was it beautiful to see, with their fluid motions and strong forms, but it helped you pick up on things you wanted to practice yourself— and any weaknesses you could exploit when you practiced with them. Today, you observed Cassian with a focused intensity as he moved gracefully through his training routine, each motion deliberate and powerful. You found yourself unable to look away, suddenly feeling drymouthed and distracted, swallowing hard. You brought your hand to your mouth, your thumb wiping at your lip as you watched.

Were you attracted to Cassian?

No. The sudden heat you were feeling was due to the heavy sun above you, the strong rays hitting you and your slight dehydration. It had nothing to do with the sweaty, built, and beautiful body of your best friend. It definitely wasn’t the way his muscles rippled as he moved, or the way his sweat lined his abs…

"Enjoying the show, babe?"

You let out a small gasp in surprise, turning your head to the side as Mor approached you, a grin on her red-painted lips.

“You scared the fuck out of me.” You said, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm the quickened beating of your heart.

“I’ve never been able to catch you so off guard,” She mused. “Guess they’re real entertaining today, huh?”

You pursed your lips and looked back over to the two males sparring. They took a step back from one another, taking a momentary break to catch their breaths. Cassian looked over at you, his half-bun had unraveled during the intense training session, with strands of his tousled hair clinging to his forehead, glistening with sweat.

As he caught your gaze, Cassian grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, he gestured toward Azriel, attempting to convey his strategy for the upcoming sparring match. You felt a smile pull at your cheeks as Cassian switched between hovering his hands around his neck to mimic an action of strangulation, and gesturing towards Azriel. Az stood unamused, wiping his forehead with his wrist before taking a large sip of water.

Beside you, Mor observed the scene with a raised eyebrow, a hint of suspicion crossing her features. Her gaze flickered between you and Cassian, and a look of realization slowly went through her face. She turned towards you with a slight gasp, smacking your bicep playfully.

"Y/n! Did you two…?"

You turned your head fast to look at her at a speed so fast that you swore you gave yourself whiplash. You looked at her with narrow eyes. “Did we what?”

Mor's grin widened as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Did you and Cassian have a little training of your own, off the sparring mat?" She teased with a wink.

You scoffed, waving her off with a gesture of your hand. You could feel a blush on your cheeks and you prayed that Mor didn’t notice— or if she did, that she attributed it to the sweltering heat.

"No, Mor! We didn't.” You responded, then you made a face of disgust. “We’re talking about Cassian. I could never.”

Mor raised an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure about that? Because, darling, you've been staring at him like he's a piece of prime meat, and you're a starved vegetarian about to crumble."

Your cheeks burned brighter.

“Such a beautiful image, Mor, thank you for that,” You murmured, rolling your eyes before looking at her. “But that is not what I was doing. I was just… watching his technique. That's all."

Mor's laughter rang through the air as she nudged you. "Sureeee. Whatever you say. But you might want to consider admitting it to yourself before the starved vegetarian inside you takes over completely."

Flustered and unsure of how to respond, you excused yourself with a mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about," before hastily leaving the training arena, leaving Mor's laughter echoing behind you as she followed.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You and Cass hadn’t had time together within the past week and a half. You were busy running off with Mor and Feyre, and when you weren’t with them, Amren took your attention. Cassian himself had been busy, too, but he couldn’t focus recently, not as well as usual. The last time he’d been able to properly see you, as you observed him and Azriel training, you left before he had a chance to talk to you. You hadn’t felt Cassian's eyes follow you as you left, didn’t notice the way he traced your figure. His gaze had stayed trained on you until you were out of his line of sight, and only then had he felt the presence of Az behind him. But he was too slow, and the Shadowsinger quickly disarmed him, flipping him onto his back with a loud thud.

Cassian had let out a groan followed by a string of obscenities aimed at his brother, who quickly made a comment about him being too distracted. Azriel was right. He was too distracted. His mind was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

In fact, Cassian felt like a mad man. There was a deep ache that had settled in his chest, one that weaved itself through his ribs. He’d never felt so starved, so hungry. But his delusions, the dreams he’d been having, the fantasies that manifested in his brain, they weren’t sweet enough to satiate his hunger anymore. What he wanted was you. And he couldn’t stop picturing it, couldn't stop indulging in his thoughts. Not since that night at Rita’s.

He’d fallen asleep with you after he’d helped you get into bed, closed his eyes after you thanked him. It was the best sleep he’d gotten in months, made even better when he woke up perfectly rested, rolling over in your comfortable bed to see you. He won’t admit how long he was staring at you, at your sleeping form, your hair fanned out across your pillow. Even with your makeup slightly smeared– a fact that made him feel guilty that he had forgotten to help you wash it off– you were breathtaking. He wondered why he never really noticed it this much before.

Cassian tried his best tonight, laying in his bed after the long day. Restless, he tossed and turned. At one point he considered getting ready and flying somewhere, going to train and practice, or finding some beautiful female to replace the thoughts he had of you. Both options sounded nauseating. So, instead, he pulled himself out of bed and slowly walked around, letting out a yawn and rubbing at his eyes. The hallways were quiet, illuminated by the moon in the night sky.

When he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, his heart quickly jumping. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the low lighting, and then readily took in the sight in front of him.

There you were, a vision of beauty, leaning gracefully into the fridge. The top part of your body concealed by the door, leaving Cassian with a tantalizing view of your legs. The silk set you wore clung to you in all the right places, the fabric catching the subtle glow of flickering faelight, accentuating the curves that commanded his attention.

Fuck. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare for him in his current state.

As he stood there, silently observing, you straightened up. Your hands, adorned with an elegant grace, held onto something within the fridge as you turned to close it. You turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. A wave of warmth washed over Cassian.

"Cass?" Your voice was quiet, the surprise in your eyes quickly replaced by recognition. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You stood tall, a small plate of mixed berries in your hand. He wasn’t surprised, though, you always had such strange midnight cravings. Still slack-jawed and captivated, Cassian tried to find the words to break the silence. He watched as your face softened and your brows pulled together. “Cant sleep?” You asked.

He blinked. And then shook his head. “Nope.” He finally replied.

You smiled, a warm and inviting expression that made Cassian's heart skip a beat, and made a motion with your head to call him closer to you. You pulled yourself onto the counter, swinging your feet as they hung. Cassian settled next to you, leaning against the counter. The cold slight touch of the cold surface on his bare back sent a chill through his body. His wings nestled comfortably behind him.

Cassian watched you as you hummed quietly, bringing the berries to your mouth. He watched the way your lips wrapped around them, the way your throat moved as you swallowed. His thoughts went straight to his cock, feeling a stirring that had him fighting to maintain his composure.

Get it together. His mind echoed. He sorted through his thoughts, then he looked up at you. “I’ve missed you this week.” He confessed.

You paused, bringing a strawberry away from your lips. Turning to look at him, you gave him a dimpled smile. "Well, you didn’t have to wait until the dead of the night to find me,” You responded. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Cassian mirrored your smile and then let out a deep breath. Despite fighting back his intrusive thoughts about you not even minutes ago, his heart was steady and calm. He could feel a sense of relief wash through his body as he stood next to you, watching you eat. The silence was comfortable— your presence was comfortable. Something warm, something familiar, something that felt like home.

“Want one?” You offered, holding your plate towards him. He glanced at you, then at the plate, and then at you again. His eyebrow raised.

“C’monnnn,” You said, your voice light and amused, “Every healthy male needs to eat his fruits and vegetables.”

Cassian let out a chuckle. “At three in the morning?”

You shrugged casually. “I don’t think the time matters.” You popped a blueberry in your mouth, looking at him. Then you picked one up from the plate, reaching your hand out to his face, the fruit hovering in front of his lips. “They’re nice and fresh and cold.”

He couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were looking at him like that.

With a reluctant smile, Cassian moved to take it from your outstretched hand, but you intervened, a softness in your eyes. "Allow me," you said. He responded with a subtle nod. Holding the berry delicately between your fingers, you brought it to his mouth. For a second, your finger brushed against his lips, a small fleeting touch, the ghost of a sensation. An unexpected surge of electricity coursed through him, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as it moved throughout his body.

His gaze locked onto yours, your attentive eyes and your mouth slightly parted. Like many other things, you’d done this before, had given Cassian food straight to his mouth. But in the stillness of the night, with the glow on your soft skin and your silk set, Cass struggled to breathe.

A slight grin played on your lips as Cassian, still entranced, tasted the berry you had fed him. He chewed slowly, deliberately, and then swallowed. "See?" you said in a soft, teasing tone, “And it probably tasted better with me feeding you it like some God. You’re welcome.”

Cassian, still under the spell of your touch, let out a small breath. "You're always right, aren't you?"

You met his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes. "It's part of my charm," you replied, the words carrying a hint of playfulness. He watched as you returned your attention to your plate, finishing the last of the berries that adorned it. You looked over at him. "It's getting late," you said, dropping down from the counter. "I should probably get some sleep."

As you stood up and stretched, Cassian's eyes followed the movement, taking in the curve of your ass as you arched your back. Your silk set rode up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your stomach. He felt a surge of desire that made him both embarrassed and excited, like he was a 16 year old again, ready to fuck anything near him. Cassian allowed his eyes to wander back up, taking in the sight of your chest, the way the silk set clung to your breasts, the subtle rise and fall of your breaths. He felt his mouth water.

You rolled your shoulders, turning to look at him with a subtle furrow in your brow.

“You okay?”

Cassian cleared his throat, shaking off his thoughts. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that there was a blush rising to his cheeks, a heat he was suddenly aware of on his face.

“Yeah,” He responded, his voice huskier than intended, “Just tired.”

You shot Cassian a mildly unconvinced look with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, but gave him a half-smile, anyways. “Get some rest, Cass,” You said softly, “See you tomorrow.”

Cassian stayed still, eerily still, as he watched you walk away, watched your legs move and the way the fabric of your clothes rippled as you walked. When you were out of eyesight, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then he titled his head and let out a groan at the ceiling. He took a minute to compose himself, to attempt to regulate the blood in his body– blood that was moving straight to the heat collecting like a pool in his chest. Rubbing his hands along his face, Cassian slowly headed for his room. The quiet of the night that once soothed him now felt like a void, one that yearned for your voice again, for you.

By the time he made it to his room, Cassian’s mind was filled with images of you– of the silk material sliding across your skin, of the way your lips wrapped around the berries, of him bending you over the counter. Gods. Feeling the strain of his desire, Cassian reached down and started to stroke himself through his pants, the loose and thin material of his sweatpants doing little to buffer the friction from his palms. He felt a deep groan leave his mouth at the image of you in front of him, kneeling with your eyes wide and hungry, your lips parted, ready for him.

He slid his hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock. He pulled his pants and briefs down his legs, letting his throbbing length fall against his stomach as wrapped his hands around himself. Cassian worked himself in smooth strokes, swallowing every time his thumb grazed the head of his cock. He let his mouth fall open as he imagined you, imagined your body moving beneath him, your eyes locked on him as he took you.

Closing his eyes, Cassian thought of the sound of your moans, fantasizing about how your breath would quicken, how your body would tremble with pleasure as he satisfied your desires. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the images in his mind grew more detailed— every sound you’ve emitted to him before, every laugh, every grunt as you trained, every soft sigh, all began to morph together into one beautiful melody. You’re moaning underneath him, desperate, all-consuming, so hungry for him that you’re forced to stifle your whimpers with the back of your hand.

Cassian felt the tension coiling in his body, the tightness in his balls, and the warmth spreading through his body. He imagined you writhing underneath him, your hips chasing his every thrust, your body arching beneath him, eyes filled with pleasure as he filled you with his seed. His orgasm hits him fast, his body trembling with the force of his release as he painted his stomach with the evidence of his desire.

Even after he’d cleaned himself off, after he’d submerged himself in a cold bath, Cassian’s mind still lingered on you, on your silk set, on your lips— on your laugh. And as he tossed and turned in bed once more, Cass realized he was completely fucked.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

"What's got you so flustered?" Mor asked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

Mor knew exactly why you were so flustered. Her, Amren, and Feyre had guessed it from the beginning— the subtle touching and lingering gazes. You liked Cassian, like-liked Cassian. And until now, you had refused to admit it.

As you remembered the moment with Cassian a mere three nights ago, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You ran your hands down your face and let out a groan. Feyre and Mor exchanged amused glances.

“He walked in shirtless!” You exclaimed, your voice still slightly covered by your hands running down your face. “Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I just kept shoving berries in my mouth. And then I kept trying to find a reason to touch him but I couldn’t.”

Feyre, who sat next to you with her legs to the side, comfortably nestled into the crook of the couch, leaned forward, looking at you with expectant eyes. “So what did you do?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact by focusing on a loose thread on the couch. "I gave him a berry." Your voice was quiet. You spared Feyre a glance under your brow. When you saw her face crinkle in amusement, you quickly looked away, nervously twirling the thread between your fingers. It snapped quickly.

From in front of you, Mor stared, her brows furrowed and mouth slightly parted. “You gave him… a berry?” She leaned back, a look of intrigue on her face.

You nodded slowly, aware of how lame it sounded. “Yes. I fed him a berry.” You said, looking up at her.

"And?" Feyre asked.

You pursed your lips and glanced at her, and then bounced your vision around the room. There was a deep sense of embarrassment that bubbled in your stomach, a feeling that made you want to hide away. You were flustered, more than you had ever been, and it was due to your best friend shirtless in the kitchen. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush— and it was humiliating. But looking at both of your friends, so eagerly sitting, you let out a breath and word-vomited them the truth.

“And I’ve never been so aroused by someone's lips and the faint feeling of stubble! Gods, what do I do?” You lifted your hands up in exasperation, finding yourself sinking further into the couch. Crossing your arms, you huffed in frustration. Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel the heat radiating from them.

“I know what to do.” Mor said, matter-of-factly. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You do?" Your hands dropped to your lap and you leaned forward.

"Yes. You need to get laid." Mor's tone was casual.

Your eyes widened. "W-What?" Your jaw dropped.

Mor only nodded her head affirmatively, jutting her chin out towards Feyre next to you. “She agrees.”

You shot a look to Feyre, who stared at you with wide eyes. She gave you a sheepish smile. “I mean…” She trailed off, looking towards Mor for help. You followed her gaze and turned your head to the blonde once more.

"We’re going to Ritas," Mor declared. She stood up, a confident sway to her hips as she moved towards the door.

"But we went last week," You protested. Mor stopped in her place and turned around to look at you with feigned innocence.

"Oh, I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her delicate hand to her chest, “I didn’t realize it was illegal to go out two weekends in a row."

You tilted your head and threw her an unamused look, but Mor only grinned at you. When you let out a defeated sigh and shook your head, she knew she had won and looked towards Feyre.

“Amren will come, too. It’ll be a girls night. Right, Fey?”

Feyre smiled and turned to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Right.” She affirmed. She leaned forward, placing a soft hand on your bicep. “It’ll be fun.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

When the day began winding down, Mor returned from her apartment, arms heavy with dresses. She strolled into your room, Amren in tow, with the same grin from earlier. Looking towards where you and Feyre sat on your couch, she let out an excited squeal. “Tonight is going to be great.”

You glanced at Amren, who merely gave you a small quirk of her lips before planting herself down on the seat opposite of you, watching as Mor dumped her pile of clothes on your bed.

You casted a glance at the pile of dresses, each with their own gorgeous vibrant color and delicate fabrics. You looked over at Mor. “Couldn’t decide on what to wear?” You mused. You pulled yourself up and walked towards her, examining the dresses on your bed. You brought the fabric of one between your fingers, feeling the delicate silk.

Mor let out a laugh, bringing her hand to your arm. She looked at you with an amused glance. “Oh babe, these aren’t for me.”

You frowned at her, and then your face fell. “Oh, these are for me?”

She nodded excitedly. Looking behind you towards Amren and Feyre. “Tell her how beautiful these would look on her.”

You didn’t look back, instead running your hands across the pile of elegant dresses. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them. Each dress was gorgeous in its own right, and if they belonged to Mor, you knew that they would look even better on– sexy, even. But you frowned slightly at the idea of dressing up to go to Rita’s with the goal of getting noticed. Unlike times before, it didn’t seem appealing. But perhaps you were overthinking. After all, the past two weeks had left you in your head too much.

Feyre craned her head slightly, watching as you stared at the dresses. “They are beautiful, Y/n.”

You let out a small sigh. This was good for you. Mor was right, you needed to get laid. You hadn’t fucked in a while. With all the tension and stress you’d been feeling, the worries about Koschei and impending doom, it made sense that your desires would manifest in someone familiar like Cassian, right? You nodded to yourself at the thought and then smiled. “Tell me which to try on first.”

You eyed the first dress Mor handed you. It was a stunning creation, soft and open, with a low neckline that hinted at just the right amount of allure. The fabric shimmered in the faelight of your room. As you slipped it on, the dress clung to your figure, accentuating curves you didn't always pay attention to. But it didn’t feel right. The straps felt a bit too loose, and as you turned to check yourself in the mirror, you realized the openness that had seemed so alluring was now making you uneasy.

Amren’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

You nodded in agreement, tugging at the neckline. "Yeah, I think I’ll pass."

Feyre chimed in with a supportive smile. "Let's try the next one. Maybe it'll capture the right feeling. Yeah?” She turned her head to the side, motioning towards some dresses that Mor stood over as she sorted through them. Each dress was a different variation of red, Mor’s beautiful statement color and one that screamed confidence and grace. Surely Mor owned more than red, you thought. Why had she decided that you both were going to adorn her signature color tonight? You didn’t think too long about it, your gaze fixed on yourself in the mirror.

After a few more desperate tries, and Amren’s decreasing confidence in Mor’s styling abilities, the blonde reached into the pile of dresses and pulled out a final dress that had you releasing a small gasp. The fabric was a deep, rich ruby red that seemed to absorb the light around it. As you slipped into the dress, the material clung to your curves, accentuating your silhouette. The neckline dipped low, revealing just enough to be tantalizing without feeling excessive, and you appreciated how naturally your breasts fell underneath it. The open back was a work of art, adorned with delicate jewels that cascaded down like a waterfall, drawing attention to the graceful curve of your spine.

You took a moment before looking at your friends. However, it was Amren specifically that you turned to for a decision, meeting her gaze. She let her eyes run down your figure before looking at you. The corners of her mouth tilted upwards as she gave you a small nod. “This is the one, girl.”

Feyre and Mor watched as you turned to examine yourself in the mirror. The dress opened at the hips, showcasing your thighs and legs. The overall effect was breathtaking, a harmonious blend of elegance and desire. Mor's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Gods, you look so sexy."

You met Mor’s gaze in the mirror. “No ones going to be able to take their eyes off you,” She gushed, “You’ll have your fair pick of females and males.” You let your mind drift off as Mor continued to babble, feeling Feyre’s hands running through your hair as she twirled the strands between her fingers, deciding how she wanted to help you style it. You took in your appearance in the mirror, eyes roaming over the dress once more, over how well it accentuated your body. It wasn’t until your gaze was drifting up that you noticed the figure in the doorway, your heart stopping.

With a smirk playing on her lips, Amren’s voice rang out. "Hello, Cassian."

You, Feyre, and Mor turned in unison to the doorway, where Cassian stood wide-eyed and still. He paled slightly and swallowed. You felt a flush creep up your neck, your hand flying to your collarbone in an anxious movement. Despite the confidence the perfect dress had given you moments ago, the presence of Cassian in the doorway had thrown you off balance. His eyes roamed your body, tracing where the dress fell at your feet up to its neckline, and all the skin it revealed. His wings twitched behind him, falling slightly. You rubbed at the spot that your hand lay at.

Cassian, still caught off guard, stammered slightly. "I... uh, was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out." You felt your face soften, giving him a smile. Before you could respond, Mor waved him off dismissively.

"Oh, sorry. She’s busy," she said with a tight smile. You casted a quick glance at her before giving your best friend an apologetic one. His gaze lingered on you, running up your figure once more– the heat in his gaze felt like it was lighting you on fire, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I can see that.” He said. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what's going on?" His eyes darted between the dresses thrown across your bed and to the girls surrounding you, each wearing beautiful, elegant gowns of their own. He didn’t miss the way Amren looked at him in amusement, or how her gaze trailed to you as she did so.

Feyre looked between you two before answering. “It's girls night," she explained, “We’re going to Ritas.”

Mor, however, turned around with a large grin. "Y/n is getting laid tonight!" she announced with unabashed enthusiasm.

Cassian's eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to process the information. A sizzling sense of jealousy formed in his chest and he breathed out from his nose. The room fell silent for a moment before he finally managed to sputter out “I thought you were over casual flings?”

You bashfully stuttered, feeling a touch of awkwardness in the tense atmosphere, a small lump in the back of your throat, "Oh, well..." Your eyes searched for the right words, and you caught Mor's gaze, her curious stare making you feel a bit more exposed than you'd anticipated. "I don't know. We'll see." You shrugged slightly, giving him a close-mouthed smile.

Feyre and Amren exchanged glances, their eyes bouncing between you and Cassian. You didn’t catch it. Mor wanted to laugh, but instead she pressed her lips together and circled you, taking in the image of you in the dress. "I bet she'll have to fight off people tonight," she mused, casting a sly look in Cassian's direction. "Wouldn't you agree, Cassian?" Feyre’s head swung over to Mor and she gave her a tight look, her eyes widening slightly. Unaffected, the blonde looked back at her with an innocent face. What? She mouthed.

Cass was staring at you, unmoving and chest rising rapidly. You took in his casual wear, how his hair hung loosely, some strands in front of his face. He was looking at you with an intensity in gaze that you’d never felt before, a heat that made you feel like you were on fire. You swallowed, and then bit your lip, watching as his eyes took in those movements too. Having not fully registered Mor's question, he stammered again, "I—uh, what?"

Mor's grin widened, and she feigned innocence. "Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that she looks so beautiful. Tell her how beautiful she looks."

Cassian casted a quick glance at Morrigan, but quickly his eyes settled back to the place they were at before– your face, your body, you. You blushed at Mor's pointed comment. His eyes ran down your figure once more, seeming to trace the lines of the dress. You continued to rub nervously at your collarbone, the heightened attention making you slightly self-conscious.

Cassian, finally finding his words, cleared his throat. "You do look... incredible," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on you. You wondered if your friends were suddenly feeling smothered too, if something in the air was making it hard for them to breathe. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You resisted the urge to gulp down another nervous breath. Mor let out a small sound of agreement before she looked over at the illyrian male.

"Okay, thats enough gawking, Cassian. We all know Y/n is hot. Now leave us be. Go find Az or Rhys or something," she declared. Your eyes widened slightly, and Cassian shook his head, his mouth slightly parting. Caught between embarrassment and amusement, he took Mor's words in stride. “Right.” He responded with a smile.

He turned around to leave, but before fully retreating, he stole one last glance in your direction. You noticed the subtle, lingering look on his face—an admiring gaze, accompanied by a fleeting lick of his lips. There was a certain longing in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed. Then, you watched as a different expression overcame his features. He walked out before you had a chance to examine it further.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a small laugh as Mor continued to compliment you, talking over her shoulder as you, Feyre, and Amren followed her, approaching the main foyer. Your laughter died as Mor stopped in her tracks and frowned slightly.

"What are you guys doing?" She asked, a mix of surprise and annoyance in her voice. As you caught up to where she stood, you were greeted with the unexpected sight of Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand standing in front of the door, seemingly waiting for you. Dressed in impeccably tailored suits, each of them exuded a distinctive charm. The realization hit you—the look on Cassian’s face as he departed from your room earlier, the sense of determination, the lingering cue of playfulness. He had gone and convinced them both to join.

You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail in how they looked, and Cassian, in particular, stood out. His wings, a symbol of his power and grace that you adored, were confidently spread, and his slicked-back hair added a touch of elegance to his rugged charm. He not only looked good, he looked absolutely delicious. You didn’t attempt to hide the look on your face as you took him in.

Finally ripping your eyes from your best friend, you looked behind him, to where Azriel sat, his face donning its usual cool expression, but you could sense it- the hint of annoyance that laid underneath it. Meanwhile, next to him, Rhysand sported a large, confident grin. A grin that Cassian mirrored, but with a touch less confidence, his eyes flickering between you and the others. Amren, observing the situation with her usual detached demeanor, glanced at Rhysand and deadpanned, "You're coming with us."

Rhysand's grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Girls' night, right?" He threw his mate a wink. You heard her stifle some laughter.

Cassian, scratching the back of his head, added with a sheepish smile, "Figured we'd join the fun. Tonight’s been a bit boring." He gestured around him. Then his gaze fell on you. For what felt like the millionth time tonight, his eyes raked over you and you blinked, catching his gaze when it fell on your face. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You didn’t mind. Not one bit, you thought. If he kept looking at you like that, with those eyes and that heated gaze, you wouldn’t mind a thing he did. He could ask you for anything right now, and you’d say yes. Yes, yes, just keep staring at me like that. Like you see me, like you want me.

Mor scoffed, "Yes, we do mind!" She turned to you, looking for support. "Tell them it's a girls night."

All eyes turned to you, and you felt a flutter of uncertainty. There was Cassian, his eyes locked onto yours, examining you, your every feature, your every move. The heat of his eyes had started to pooled down at your thighs. You clenched everything below your waist as you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the intensity of his gaze. Mor's impatience grew, and she raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well?"

You lingered on Cassian, and despite Mor's expectant face, you found yourself saying, "No, I don't mind."

Mor's expression shifted from annoyance to resignation, and she let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Cassian's face brightened with a grin, "I promise, Mor, it'll be so fun." His attention turned towards you, walking to you with a soft, but charming grin. "Allow me." He extended his elbow, and without hesitation, you interlocked your hand with his. The touch was comforting and warm, and his scent enveloped you as he guided you towards the exit. You closed your eyes with a content sigh.

The fragrance that clung to him was intoxicating. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him tonight, to let him join you and the girls. The dress you were wearing gave you an inflated sense of confidence that you hadn’t felt for a while, and as you walked alongside Cassian, you wondered if it would truly be so bad to indulge in your thoughts of him. To think of his hands, the some ones with you right now, and how they would trace your body the way his eyes had this evening. You felt your arousal bubbling up at the thought of it. It was all in innocent fun, right? You could think of him, enjoy this touch, fantasize about him, as long as that's all it was— thoughts in your mind, away from reality, an idea that you never let come to fruition.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You had to admit, Mor was right. Rita’s was definitely the move tonight. Somehow it was even more lively than last week, bustling with people and energy. You weren’t as intoxicated as last time, not anywhere near it, but you felt drunk all the same. And you weren’t ashamed to admit, now, that your drunken haze was all caused by one thing: your extremely attractive best friend.

You and Cass had lost the rest of your group a while back, pulled into a drink off with a beautiful fae couple. Cassian and you had won every single round, leaving you standing at the bar now, celebrating with another round of shots.

Cassian was standing next to you as you both faced the bar, your arms touching, practically on top of one another. Cass craned his head to look at the crowd behind you, his hand wrapping around your waist as people drunkenly stumbled past you, making their way to the bar. On usual nights, Cassian’s hand would have dropped by now, returned to their position at his side, but not tonight. Instead, he kept his hand across your waist, keeping a heavy hold on you. You could feel the heat from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you felt it as it moved straight to your core. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to ignore it, suddenly feeling grateful for the multitude of smells in Rita’s that covered your arousal. You turned your head to the side to look at Cassian, noticing that his gaze was on you, but not on your face. Instead, it seemed as if he was looking to where his hand rested on your hip.

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing, leaning closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, and then you felt his hand lift. You felt a small tinge of disappointment, but it quickly dissipated when you felt his light touch hovering over your back, tracing where the delicate jewels of your dress cascaded down your spine like a waterfall. Your body shuddered. You watched him as his gaze deepended, as he took his lip between his teeth. His hands traced the ornate jewelry, landing at the base of your spine, where the fabric of your dress gathered.

“I like this,” Cassian said, his voice low. His eyes flickered to yours, “Beautiful.”

Your chest fluttered at his words— was he complimenting the dress, or you? You couldn’t ask even if you wanted to, the air sucked out of your lungs with every lingering touch of his. Your mouth parted slightly as he stared at you, as you ran your eyes along his face. You felt the brush of his fingers on your spine now. He wasn’t tracing the jewelry anymore, no, he was touching you.

“Here you go,” A sudden voice pulled you out of the moment. Both you and Cassian turned your heads to the bartender placing two small shot glasses in front of you. You had forgotten you’d ordered another round, forgotten why you were at the bar in the first place, with your best friends hands over you. “I apologize for the wait.” The bartender said.

You spared him a quick glance, a small graceful smile on your lips, “No worries,” you said. But then you looked at him once more, recognizing the smile he wore, the sound of his voice. This was the bartender Cassian was talking about. And from the way he looked at you, how he pushed your glass to your hand, lightly grazed your fingers, you knew Cass was right about his interest in you.

“Thanks,” Cassian said, his voice rough. He grabbed both of the glasses in his hand, dragging them closer to your chests, his eyes trained on the bartender, whose smile faltered as he looked at your best friend. Cassian’s hand, which had fallen from your back at the interruption, found your hips again. “That’ll be it.” You didn’t need to look at the bartender to know that he shrunk away, intimated. You didn’t need to look because all you wanted to stare at was Cassian. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. Something about his grip on you, on the way he’d pushed the bartender away, the way he’d touched your spine, all of it had you pooling at your core.

“Here,” Cass said, pushing your glass towards you with his knuckle. He grabbed his in his hand. The other hand was still at your hip, unmoving— except for the occasional circular rub of his thumb. You tenderly took the shot, angling your body to twist slightly so you could better face him. The hand on you moved appropriately, still staying placed on your hip as you maneuvered.

“Cheers.” You said, looking at him. You licked your lips as you held the shot up. Cassian met yours, the two glasses making a clink as they touched. “Cheers.” He responded.

Tilting your head back, you welcomed the shot openly, letting the liquid coat your throat, feeling the warmth as it moved down. When you were done, you were met with Cassian’s gaze once more, watching you. His gaze followed the column of your throat as you swallowed. His hand moved to your face, his thumb wiping away a stray drop of whiskey on your chin. The touch itself sent a frenzy through your body, and you let out a small, quiet gasp.

“Y/n.” He murmured.

“Yes?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body still. He was closer to you now than a few moments ago, and it took everything in your power not to pull him even closer, to brush against him.

“You can’t look at me like that.” Cassian finally replied.

Your heart leaped, and you took a sharp intake of breath. How were you looking at him, you wondered? Mor’s words echoed in your mind: like he was a piece of meat and you were a starving vegetarian? She was right. Oh, so right. You wanted to taste him, to devour him, to have him ravish you in return. You swallowed and then whispered in response.

“Like what?”

Cassian said nothing. He scanned your face and then his hand was moving again, brushing a stray strand of your hair from your face. When the hair still fell out of place, he gingerly grabbed it and tucked it behind your ear. You felt his finger trace the shell of your ear, falling as it reached your lobe, now on your cheek. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch, pressing closer to him. His grasp at your hip tightened, and you felt as it moved up, his hands now grabbing the skin at your waist.

When you opened your eyes, your gaze met his instantly. He was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with desire. "We should probably find our friends," he whispered, his voice hoarse. You nodded absentmindedly, feeling your chest tighten. Cassian’s palm slightly lifted from your cheek, the ghost of his touch lightly moving. His thumb found your lips, tugging at them slightly, you let your mouth fall open with the touch. He nearly let out a moan at the sight.

“Or,” You whispered back, “We could go home.”

He nodded, the pad of his thumb still rubbing at your lip. “We could.”

You lifted your hand to grab his wrist softly, pulling it lower, to your chest. You felt the heat of his palm as it landed on your chest. “Cassian.” His cock pressed angrily against his zipper at the sound of his name falling from your lips so sensually, so softly. His hand trailed higher, and then he was wrapping it around your neck, his thumb running along your throat. You savored the touch and bit your lip, looking at him through your lashes. The look was all he needed, any self-constraint quickly disappearing.

“Let's go home.” He said, his thumb running alongside your lips once more. Then, he was spinning you both around, interlacing your fingers as he pulled you through the crowd.

As Cassian led you out, you looked back, squinting at the mass of people. Your gaze landed on Feyre, who was already looking at you. You watched as she glanced between you and Cassian, and then she gave you a small smile, her brows slightly furrowed. Be careful. Her voice echoed in your brain, soft and gentle. You weren't sure what she was referring to, if she was talking about your trip home or the way you were entangled with your best friend. Either way it didn’t matter. You weren’t being careful, not now. You didn’t want to be.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been in this position with someone you loved so dearly— never been in the situation where you were about to fuck your best friend.

The way home was a blur, the cold air as you both left Rita’s in a hurry, how Cass had wrapped his arms around you, how they had wandered and explored, but nowhere too vulnerable— not yet. You had made it a few minutes before you decided to winnow back, your ability fully functioning and, at the moment, incredibly convenient. Back at the house, you both had stared at each other, breathing hard, heavy-lidded eyes with lust. You could smell it on him. You didn’t doubt that you reeked of your own arousal. But Cass has stepped away from you, for a brief moment, biting his lips as his hands curled at his sides. Whatever you want, sweetheart, is what he had said. He wanted to give you an out, a chance to change your mind, to decide that this wasn’t a line you wanted to, or were ready to, cross. The realization hit you sweetly, and it only added to your arousal, the fact that he was so aware of you.

You had looked at him, a small nod of your head towards the hallways, towards the corridors that led to your rooms. You hadn’t said anything, a heavy silence followed you, filled with longing and desperation, a hint of anxiety. You had waited, let Cassian take the next move. If he followed, you both knew what would happen. You had given him an out, too.

You worried when some time had passed and you were still alone in your bedroom. You walked towards your mirror, taking in your appearance, the dress on you, the evident arousal on your face, in your stature. Then you heard him. His walking. You closed your eyes, hearing his heavy footsteps enter your room. You heard your door shut, and the footsteps grew louder until you felt him behind you, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. You let out a small breath.

“Cass,” You whispered, your eyes opening and meeting his in the mirror.

His hands found your hips, and he pulled you back into him. You felt his hard length against you, pressing against your exposed back, the heat of it alone causing you to let out a small, shaky breath. You leaned back into him, rubbing against him as his fingers tightened around you. Craning your head to the side, Cassian took advantage of your exposed neck, running his nose along it, inhaling your scent. He nudged the sweet spot behind your ears, your knees almost giving out as his lips trailed the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin.

His voice, rough as gravel, sent a wave through you of something you couldn’t name, but it was heavy, hot, and made you so incredibly horny. “Sweetheart, are you…” He trailed off.

Sure? Sober? You had a feeling that sober is what his question seemed to probe at. You nodded, nodded frantically. Every shot you had taken tonight had no effect on your body, not anymore. You’d felt the last lingering effects of your final shot as you both came home, feeling as it slipped out of your system. And if he was asking if you were sure, that answer was yes, too. You were boldly, acutely, and fully aware of the moment, of each sensation in your body— fully aware of the ache in your legs, of how good Cassian smelled. “Yes, yes.” You whispered.

“Thank god,” He groaned– a guttural, animalistic sound.

Before you could blink, Cassian was spinning you around. You let out a gasp, your view quickly taken up by the image of his face hovering over yours. He held your face in both of his hands, his thumbs swiping across your cheeks. His eyes scanned you in desperation, as if he was searching for something within the details of your features. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find as he brought his lips to yours, giving in entirely with a soft moan of relief. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, and you moaned into him, flinging your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He kissed you harder.

“You sure?” Cassian whispered, floating the question again. He slid his warm palm up and over your hips, to your waist, your ribs, and back down again. You let out a sigh at his touch, running your palms up to pull the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes,” You said as he feathered kisses along your neck. “Are you?”

You felt Cassian nod against you, a small breathless laugh left his lips as he came up for another kiss. “Fuck yes. I’ve been dreaming about this.” And then he placed another kiss on your lips, deep and sensual. Hunger radiated off him like a starved man. His words turned you to jelly and you swore you could feel your wetness running down your thighs.

“This dress,” he breathed against your lips, “I wanted to rip it off you the minute I saw it.”

Before you can react, he reached out and gripped the fabric of your dress, yanking it downward with a force that left your heart racing. You gasped as the material was torn from your body, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You watched in awe as he threw the torn fabric aside, a small sound emitting as the jewels made contact with the hard floor. The cold air immediately took the place of the warmth of your clothing, making you shiver with pleasure.

“That was Mor’s!” You managed to breathe out, looking at the discarded pile of fabric. Your words died in your throat the minute you caught Cassian’s gaze again. There was a predatory look in his eyes as he took you in, and you remembered now that you were completely naked now, save for a lacy pair of panties. Your nipples perked, hard and ready, in the cold air. Cassian, his gaze unmoving, simply grumbled back, “I’ll buy her a new one.”

Cassian's eyes roamed over your naked body, his gaze heated as he took in the sight of you, completely at his mercy. His hands reached out, his fingers tracing a path down your arms, making you shake with anticipation. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," He said, "How much I've wanted this." You felt his erection, hard and ready, pressing against your stomach.

His lips found yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kissed you with all the passion he'd been holding back. You felt the desire radiating from him, making you feel wanted and desired in a way that nothing else ever had. As he broke the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, filled with pure, unfiltered lust. "I'm going to make you come," he growled, his voice low and rough. "And when I do, you'll never forget the way I made you feel."

With that, he plunged his tongue back into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as you stand there, naked and vulnerable, your cunt throbbing with every word, every touch. Your hands gripped his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of passion.

Cassian broke away from you for a moment, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. "Jump," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Without hesitation, you lifted yourself into his arms as he pulled you into him effortlessly. He wrapped himself around you, his hands gripping at your ass, fingers digging into your skin. You felt his erection pressing against you, underneath you, with desperate need.

He took a few steps before he carefully dropped you onto your bed with a bounce. You fell onto your back, your eyes wide with desire as you looked up at him. He took you in with his eyes, every detail of your body etched in his mind, hungrily saving the image of you for later.

Cassian's movements were hurried and frenzied as he removed his own shirt, discarding it carelessly on the floor near your--Mor's-- shredded dress. As he moved, you sat up from your supine position, your legs naturally falling to either side, finding yourself yourself in a kneeling position. You looked up at Cass. The sight of you like this, vulnerable and expectant, only intensified the hunger in his eyes, and he groaned.

You reached out to him and ran your fingertips along the waistband of his black pants, watching as his stomach muscles clenched in response to your touch. Cassian caught your wrists in his hands, looking down at you hungrily, he shook his hand. “Not yet, sweetheart. Let me savor this.”

You let out a small whimper, the sound shooting straight to his dick, causing the hardening length to throb in anticipation. But when he released your hands, you kept them at his waistband, bringing your hand to palm him through the fabric of his pants.

“Please,” You whimpered, “I want to.”

And what kind of man would Cassian be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked up at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? He moaned, feeling as if he could cum at the sight of you alone. This, you, were better than any of his fantasies— and he had come up with a lot within the past two weeks.

You stared at him, at the way his muscles ripped under this golden skin, at the black tattoos curling around him, at the way his wings flared out openly, dominantly. You ached to be closer, to be able to touch the sensitive membrane. You licked your lips, taking in the curl of his biceps, the sharp dips of his hips, Gods, he was beautiful. He brought his right hand to your face, holding it tenderly before moving his hand to grab your hair at the back of your head. You took that as your invitation, leaning forward to undo his pants. With his buttons undone, you pulled the fabric down, Cassian’s hands aiding you to slide his underwear off with it.

You let out a gasp at his length, at the girth, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock. Red and hungry at the tip, leaking. You were watering at the sight. A deep sense of jealousy pooled into your stomach, images of every female he’d been with before, every female who had the pleasure of experiencing this before you. Mine. You thought. Mine. Pushing yourself closer to him, you kissed a line down his stomach.

You felt his muscles tense beneath your lips as you wrapped your fingers around him. He hissed as you rubbed your hands up his considerable length, the sound repeating when you spit on the head, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You dragged the flat of your tongue upward, against the underside of his cock. Cassian’s reaction was instant, bucking into your grip with a breathless, raspy, moan that sent a wave of arousal down your body. You allowed your hand to follow the trail, spreading your saliva. Your mouth sunk down on him. As you hollowed your cheeks, Cassian pushed himself harder, letting out a sinful groan as you welcomed him, taking him deeper in your throat.

“Gods,” Cassian tightened his jaw as he watched his cock disappear between your swollen lips with every bob of your head. “That pretty little mouth of yours.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, Cassian’s head falling backward as he moaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter. You moaned in response, the sound vibrating through him. You shifted on your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt to relieve some of your own arousal. With a wet pop, you released him from your mouth, looking directly up at him as he stared at you with naked lust. You greedily swallowed the taste of him that coated your tongue.

“Enough. My turn.” He said, his voice halfway between growl and purr, a feral sound from deep in his chest that reverberated through your core. Cassian’s hand found your chest, after a squeeze of your breasts, his palm settled above your ribs. With a soft push, you were flat on your back again. He leaned over you and you seized the opportunity to rock against his thigh, your pussy throbbing at every touch of his, desperate for friction. But he moved quickly, leaving you grasping for touch. “Cassian.” You moaned. You pulled him back up again, desperate to have him close, slotting your lips against him.

He accepted another hungry, ravenous kiss from you before he moved down, trailing hard kisses down your jaw and across your collarbone. Your hands tugged at him, roaming over the length of his shoulders and the plane of his back, you trailed your fingers along his wings, the sensitive and soft membrane. You felt him shudder at the touch, watched as those beautiful wings twitched. You needed more.

Cassian stopped, taking a moment to bite into the soft flesh at the base of your neck. You let out a moan, throwing your hands into his hair as he sucked on the tender skin, soothing the area with a swipe of his tongue. He removed his mouth, tilting his head to make slight eye contact with you, a cocky grin placed on his lips.

“I’ll paint you in my marks, Y/n.” He whispered, moving his head down to continue his trail of kisses, “Just to have evidence that I was lucky enough to be here.”

He brought one hand between your thighs, his large calloused fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh, his perfect mouth still exploring you, tasting your skin. Your moans tumbled from your mouth, outside of your control, flowing like a river. You tightened your grasp on his hair, your fingers raking his scalp, pelvis lifting into his touch. Your legs widened further to provide him better access, knees dropping to the side.

“To feel this.” Cassian’s fingers pulled your underwear aside and ran themselves through the wetness at your core, through your sensitive folds. His finger delicately circled your clit, rubbing at it in a way that had you mewing at his touch.

You let out a gasp as one probed at your entrance, your warm core welcoming it greedily. You felt his finger curl, and then arched into him as he added another, working in and out of you. You could hear the squelch of your juices as he fingered you, could feel the way your essence dripped with each movement.

A disappointed sigh left your lips when the warmth of his hand left you. But seconds later, as you looked down at him with your hands in his hair, he pulled himself up slightly– just enough to look at you. Just enough to make eye contact as he tilted his head and stuck his slick fingers into his mouth. He lapped at the wetness coating his fingers.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.” He said, moving down to drop to his knees at the edge of the bed, between your spread legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows to keep your gaze on him. He looked at you, heavy lidded, his mouth glistening with the remnants of your slick. “May I?”

Please, please. He didn’t need to ask, you thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him on you, in you, all over you. Whatever he wanted was what you wanted. You lazily nodded, your tongue darting out again to wet your lips.

“Words, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, placing hot and wet kissing along your thighs. His arms snaked under your thighs, hands reaching to grab your hips and pull you closer. He slowly peeled your drenched panties off your body. “I want to hear you.”

“Yes,” You finally managed to croak out. Your voice deep and needy. “Please, Cass.”

And then his tongue was on you, licking a stripe up your dripping sex. You let out a loud moan at the contact, at the feeling of his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your folds, dragging it slowly. Your hands found his hair and gripped it roughly between your fingers, your body curling around him. Cassian’s tongue dipped into your hole, darting in, again and again. Your legs trembled as stars began to cloud your vision.

“Cassian,” You choked out, feeling the building pressure in your stomach. You tried bucking your hips, but Cassian kept your thighs still, steady in a position where you couldn’t escape his wicked mouth. His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and slipping into your entrance. Your spined bowed in pleasure, and you brought one hand to your breasts, rubbing them and pinching at your nipples as Cassian ravaged you.

“You’re delicious. So fucking delicious.” Cassian crooned as he pulled apart from your cunt. He took a minute to admire the sweet image of you dripping in front of him, and then he dove back in. He let out a moan, quiet but still audible, and you noticed his other hand had removed itself from your thigh, now hidden from your view. As you looked, you saw it visibly moving, frantically, desperately. Cassian was eating you out and rubbing his own cock at it, pleasuring himself as he lapped at you. You moaned at the idea alone. The noises you made were loud, loud enough that you knew your family would hear if they were home already. But you didn’t care, you had no shame. Let them hear.

Cassian was murmuring into your core; he repeated something, the words falling from him like a prayer from a dying man. You were barely able to hear his whispers over the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears. Cassian pulled back a little then, heedless of your firm hold on his hair, watching you with his jaw set, eyes dark and greedy.

“Oh, Y/n,” he said huskily. “I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?”

As he withdrew his mouth, he replaced its presence with his fingers instead. His thumb resumed the stimulation on your clit while his fingers moved inside your. When he slid another finger into you, your hips jumped, moving to meet his fingers faster. He curled his fingers into you as you rutted down harder. He groaned as your walls clenched when he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that had you whining his name. Your face contorted in pleasure and you let your head fall back. Cassian’s hand gripped at your thigh, calling your attention back.

“Down here,” He hummed, “Keep those pretty eyes down here.”

You brought your head back up, supporting yourself with your elbows. Cassian’s eyes stayed on yours as he lowered himself to your sex again, nustling his nose against your clit before he licked a stripe up your cunt, bringing his mouth to suck on your clit. You felt his fingers enter you again– one, then two. They brushed against you as he lapped at your clit, drawing circles with his tongue. You could barely breathe, the air leaving your lungs as Cassian filled your body with sweet, suffocating ecstasy. Your right hand found itself in his hair again, grabbing, pulling. He let out a groan at the feeling, and continued to lap at you.

You felt it everywhere, felt him everywhere. Pleasure gushed through your body, every part of your body sensitive. You writhed under him, your vision of Cassian growing blurry as you felt your pleasure build, coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode. You’re weren't sure what was up or down, forgotten where you were completely. Nothing existed except you and Cassian and the way he fucked you with his fingers and his mouth, and Gods, the thought of your reality alone made you want to cum. You grinded against his mouth, feeling as he grabbed you, pulled you closer, harder, against him, completely smothering him.

“Oh my Gods, yes, yes, yes.” The sounds you were emitting were music to his ears and Cassian continued.

The mixture of your pleasure, of Cassian’s grunts, his smells, of the way his wings twitched with each of your moans, made it even sweeter when Cassian brought another finger to your entrance. That tight, hot, built-up coil in your stomach loosened and you shriled loudly, your back bowing off the bed beneath you. Your whole body quaked as your orgasm rippled through you.

Cassian was in heaven— he was sure of it. You were a vision, your cheeks flushed, your lips parted as you moaned out in pleasure, your hard grasp in his hair. He felt every sound from your lips, every whisper of his name falling straight to his aching cock. Cassian, fuck, Cassian. You chanted them like a prayer and he swallowed them all. You were something holy, something absolutely divine and he felt himself losing it. He wanted to worship you forever, to stay buried in your cunt and die a happy man. Every man before him hadn’t appreciated you enough. He wanted to make you his, his beautiful creature, his goddess.

Cassian slowed his movements, but didn’t halter them completely as he let you work through the wave of your pleasure. Your hand had gone lax in his hair, and he took the opportunity to pepper kisses across your skin — across your legs, across your cunt, even the sweaty crook of your thigh, anywhere his lips could reach. The hand that once gripped your thighs so tightly softened. Cassian rubbed gentle circles around your skin. He waited, and only until your body stopped shaking and you let out a small content sigh between your ragged breaths did he remove his fingers from you.

He gave your core a slight smack and you let out a gasp, the action sending a spark throughout your body, leaving you aching and throbbing more than you had been seconds before. Cassian gave you a smirk.

“Holy fuck,” You breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. “Cassian…” You watched as he stood up, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he licked off your juices once more. Your gaze dropped to his chest, and then to his throbbing cock. He stroked it as he looked at you, and your core ached once more, clenching at the thought of him inside you. Cassian stared at you, lips parted, drinking the sight of you eagerly. You pushed yourself further up, scooting back enough to lie flat on the middle of your bed.

“You are a vision. A godsdamn vision,” Cassian spoke, the words falling off his tongue in a breathless confession, “Thought about this for so long.” He walked over to you.

You gulped at the admission, thinking back onto your own fantasies of him, of his hands, of his mouth. You blinked, watching as he braced his hands on the bed. “Yeah?”

Cassian nodded, bringing his hand to rub alongside your legs, tracing the curves of your body. As he crawled onto the bed, he let his hands wander with every movement. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

The nickname made your heart clench, and you felt your wetness building once again, your pussy still sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Tell me.” You whispered. He straightened himself, moving to hover over you. With one arm supporting his weight, Cassian rocked his hips against yours. He molded his other hand to your breasts, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. You arched into his touch, mewing for more. You felt your heart throb, a warmth enveloping your chest. You couldn’t breathe. All you wanted to feel was him, his hands, his skin, his touch. His touch cascaded down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them closer to him.

“Rubbed myself raw at the thought of you underneath me like this.” He placed a kiss to your chest, quickly turning it into a small love bite, sucking at the skin tenderly. He released your skin with a brush of his teeth, bringing his fingers to softly touch the bruised skin. His fingers returned to your torso, teasing your nipples once more, bringing them between his fingers. He bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. You arched into him, letting out a sweet sound at the wet contact. Cass swirled his tongue around the hardened nub before gently tugging it with his teeth, causing you to let out a cry of pleasure that quickly turned into a whine when he lifted his head. He lightly blew on your nipple, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure as your nipple peaked harder, responding to the contrast of his hot mouth and the cool air. He repeated the same motions with your other breast.

You moaned as you felt him tease your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit and around your inner lips. You impatiently bucked your hips, trying to guide him where you wanted him, where you ached for him, but Cassian’s firm hand on your lower abdomen halted your movements.You looked up at him with frustration, frowning at the sly grin on his mouth.

“Cass, please,” You pleaded with broken whimpers. Cassian said nothing, moving his head down to kiss alongside your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth. He teased you more, and in a movement of exasperation, fueled by the swelling and throbbing of your heat, you pulled him towards you by his neck. You placed your forehead against his, looking at him through heavy eyes. “Cassian, please fuck me already.”

Cassian gave you a wolfish grin. “Since you asked so nicely,” he said, bringing you in for another kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the kiss wet with desire and something more you couldn't place. Taking a breath and pulling apart, Cassian moved his hand to grab his cock, stroking it once, twice, before lining it up with your entrance.

You let out a deep moan as he pushed into you, feeling yourself stretching around him. Your previous climax had left you sensitive, so sensitive that the first rock of Cassian’s hips left you gasping for air. Cass let out a guttural groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he bottomed out. His hair clung to his forehead. You looked up at him, at his mouth open in pleasure, and ran your hands alongside his face.

“Fuck,” His breath fanned your face. He looked at you with that deep intensity in his gaze that stirred your heart. The next thrust was just as slow, Cassian pushing in as deep as your body would allow. “You, You feel fucking incredible.”

You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you. But soon, Cassian’s voice snapped again, and you felt one hand grab your face, his hand holding your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your lips. “Look at me, beautiful.” He said, letting his thumb dip into your mouth.

You spread legs spread open to the sides as he began to vigorously slam into you with no restraint, never breaking the eye contact he'd so quickly grown to love. He drank it all in: the clapping noises of flesh and your sensual screams, the sensation of your wet heat wrapped around him, the sopping sounds of your love making, and the way your nails dug into his arms as he told you how good you felt.

You rolled your hips, pushing against his merciless rhythm of thrusts. Cassian looked down at where your bodies met, at where his cock filled you, entranced by the way your hips subconsciously tilted at the intrusion, at how your hole welcomed him. With a growl, he lifted your legs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his rough, relentless thrusts. Your breath caught in your throat as your watched him fuck you, your heart pounding in her chest. “Cass, Cassian.”

“Keep saying my name, baby.” The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, caressing you like another wave of heat. “Tell me how good it feels.”

As he continued to move inside you, your thoughts jumbled into a mess of pure pleasure. You let out a string of incoherent words, your mind drunk on the feeling of him stretching you, hitting spots you’d never experienced before. “S’Good.” You whimpered. You wrapped your arms tighter across his shoulders, reaching to touch the delicate membrane of his wings. They twitched under your fingertips, and you felt Cassian let out a moan before the sound registered in your ear. He snaked a hand where your bodies met, finding your swollen, aching clit, and began to rub circles around it. You gasped.

“I wish I could be here forever,” Cassian groaned, his lips hovering over your ears, “Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.” You didn't know if Cassian was aware of what he was saying, aware of what it implied, but you didn't care. It all felt so good, and his words made every stroke even more pleasurable. You wanted this, you wanted this for the rest of your life– you’d never experienced something this great, never known this level of pleasure could exist.

“Please, Cass. Please.” You didn't know what you were begging for, but Cassian hushed you, peckering kisses all over you, his head fell in the crook of your shoulder, moving to bring his teeth to the sensitive skin at your neck. You moaned. “Yes, yes. Mark me. I’m yours.”

Your words seemed to hit a part of him, forcing him to pull away and stare at you with wide eyes. He stilled inside of you. "Say that again," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. You brought your hands to his face, gently rubbing his cheeks. The tender, soft touch sent a shock straight to his cock, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. When you pulled apart for air, Cassian’s strokes began to pick up again, his forehead resting on yours. "Fuck me like I'm yours." You said to him, your voice filled with raw desire.

Cassian’s mind shuffled through the past two weeks, the memories of the bartender hitting on you, of the men who never satisfied you. He felt a primal possessiveness, a need to take you faster, harder, deeper. His thrusts became more aggressive, more forceful, his wings caressing you as they wrapped around both of your bodies. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching beneath him, hands gripping the sheets as you took him deep inside you.

He watched you, admired your body sprawled on the bed before him, his hands on your hips, holding you at just the right angle. His mouth salivated at your beautiful face, flushed and red, and the way your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. The noise of your fucking was obscene - the soft squeaks of your bed, the wet sounds of your bodies slapping together, the moans and curse words and harsh breathing. His grip on your hips tightened and his thrusts became more erratic.

Cassian’s movements became faster than you could process– one moment, he was thrusting into you, and the next, he was picking you up, maneuvering you so that you were sitting on his thighs, looking at him as he leaned back. You gasped at the new angle, at the feeling of sinking onto him completely. His eyes locked on yours as you straddled him and his hands guided you up and down his cock, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass, guiding you closer to him with each thrust. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him harder, faster, your body craving more. “Ride me just like that, sweetheart.” His voice rang in your head, making you dizzy. You arched forward towards him. One hand left your ass, going to grab one of your breasts, fondling with your nipple. His eyes were dark with desire, his gaze never leaving yours as he watched you take him deep inside you.

As you sank down onto him, his hips bucked up to meet you, your bodies connecting with a primal force. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you moaned softly, your eyes closing in pleasure. But Cassian didn't want you to close your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to see the raw fire in his eyes as he took you. He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.

"Look at me," he growled, his voice rough like gravel. The sound itself made you clench around him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as you met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and possession, and you could feel your orgasm building as you looked at him. His hand tightened around your throat as he began to fuck you harder, his hips bucking up to meet you.

You felt his cock sliding deeper inside you, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, "Look at me. Let me see you fall apart on my cock."

As you felt the intensity of your orgasm building, he pulled you down, holding you to his chest, in place, as he continued to thrust into you. You moaned, your forehead resting against his, your eyes locked on his as he continued to fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of you. "Cassian, please, please, I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice hoarse. His hands gripped your ass roughly, pulling you closer to him, sliding deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You felt his heart pounding beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stared at you as he whispered, "I've got you, baby. I've got you."

Your body trembled, your moans grew louder, and soon your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave– your body shook with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him, milking him. You gasped his name, your body convulsing over him, your sensitivity consuming you completely. You felt him tense, his cock swelling even more, and you knew that he was close as well.

His thrusts were rough and hard, each one sending waves of warmth coursing through you. Your body responded to his movements, your cunt massaging him, clenching around him, making him groan in response. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even rougher, sloppy, and more urgent. His hips moved in a frenzy, each thrust driving him deeper into you, his cock sliding against your most sensitive spots, making you moan with pleasure. You felt his balls slapping against your ass, the sound and sensation driving you wild, your hands grasped at him, at his shoulders, at his neck, at his hair.

You felt the tension building within him, his body tensing underneath you as he neared his climax. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place as he drove into you. You were certain he’d leave marks in their wake, that your hips, your thighs, your body would be bruised with the evidence of his touch. It made you feral.

Cassian’s breaths were ragged as he bucked into you roughly, a string of curses falling from his lips. Finally, he let out a low, primal grunt, his face contorted with pleasure as he came, his cum spilling deep within you. You felt the warmth of his seed filling you, the sensation making you shiver with pleasure. His thrusts became slower, gentler, as he tried to catch his breath, his body still trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His grip on you loosened, and his hands began to rub up and down your spine, gently, softly, lovingly.

You both laid there for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. Pushing yourself up, you sat upright, Cassian letting out a groan at the feeling of him still inside you, your juices leaking between your legs and onto his skin. His hands rubbed at either of your thighs, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at one another— lips swollen, skin flushed, hair disheveled. You let out a deep breath and let your mouth fall open slightly.

“You are incredible.” Cassian breathed out, looking up at you, still entranced in your beauty. He admired the marks on your body from his mouth, and felt a small smirk growing on his lips. You let out a small exhausted laugh, your hands coming to rest at his shoulders, rubbing your thumb absentmindedly on his skin.

“So,” You said, still breathless, your voice raspy, “What now?”

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